The airport is a great place to really engage with the whole “get out of your head” thing. There’s lots of people, more people than one would assume, all milling about to-and-fro, off to wherever. I’ve seen some cool individuals – a really unhappy looking guy standing in the corner of the Sky Train with a bright blue tee that said “This is my airport shirt”, an old lady who I talked to a little in the security line who had a hell of a lot of opinions on TSA, a dude sitting next to me at the gate with what seems to be a tattoo of Kevin bacon in an army uniform.
A baby in one of those front slings just showed up – she’s very cute. I want a kid.
Also the mood in the airport is just nice. There was some very obviously license-free piano music playing over the escalator and in the bathroom, which was punctuated by one of the most grizzly grunts into horrifying bowel-evacuating noises I’ve ever heard from the stall behind me. Lots of people have a lot going on I guess.
What else, drive was fine, I hope my car doesn’t get destroyed while it’s here. I’m going to miss my cats and friends, but I’m excited to see my sister and Patty and Penny and Sylvia and Pepper. It’ll be fun. The planes late, but I’m in no rush.
It is a little wistful, though. Last time I was in an airport was last year for a trip to New York with my ex. I guess sitting here again, waiting to board at the gate, I really feel her absence. It just sort of feels like some sand got kicked up off my ocean floor or whatever. Though it’s not a bad feeling – it’s nice to miss someone. And I’m having a very good and happy day, so the whole melancholy thing is more such just an emotional accent, a mellow note, a dude shitting in the Atlanta airport bathroom to license-free piano music.
jeez, louise 