| Prologue: Writing from Dulles International
Airport I got up this morning at about 8:45, so I would have time to pack, run to campus and back to turn in my final paper for Constitutional History, and get a ride to the airport. Given that it's supposed to be the highest volume travel day of the year, I assumed that getting here three and a half hours early would be a good bet. The consequence of my doing this was... three hours of time to kill at the airport. I'm not bitter. I just bought a load of caffiene and a copy of SI, and sat down to read. That killed... an hour. Then I e-mailed a couple people (one of which was exceptionally awkward. I'm soooo cut.) and here I am. The duty free shop is clearly the best thing ever to exist. I've been ID'd four times since arriving at the airport, but somehow, this paranoia over identity doesn't extend to a store selling low-cost alcohol. After watching a twelve year old buy a bottle of Jack Daniels, I decided to take my chances. I bought a small bottle of Kahlua, which will go nicely with my mini bottle of Grey Goose. Something tells me the flight attendant might not appreciate my mixing drinks. Something else tells me I won't care. I'll need to be a little buzzed for this family get together, and won't really have an opportunity to drink. Damn. Out of curiosity - does anyone really think we need twenty-four hour news? They've been playing a constant stream of CNN here at the airport, and all it's proven to me is that there's about seven seconds of real news each day. Since I've begun typing this, they've run the following storie: 1. Is John Hinkley okay to have a day alone with his parents?This third one was not a quick note. In fact, it has been on for roughly five minutes and shows no signs of stopping. They're actually reporting on a lack of news. This is not good. cranked out at 5:09 PM | |
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