Written at 8:30 PM, 8/20/06 in Portland, Oregon.
Airports remind me of graveyards. No—not in some sort of sick, morbid, fatalistic sense. They remind me of graveyards because of their atmosphere of dark, quiet solemnity. I am currently in the airport waiting. I have roughly another two hours before my flight boards. Packing and preparations went relatively smoothely, and I seem to have only forgotten one thing (at least that I’ve realized). [read on]