I am only able to write from by electronic bird book (also known as my iPod). So unless I go back later and type more in detail, this will probably be just a few sentences for each happening.
Getting Ready
Doc keeps counting down the hours I have until I'm on the plane. He's putting pressure on me to pack except I already was mostly packed. Hey Beloit College juniors - oh my goodness, you're already a junior? That means senior is next. What are you going to do? What will your life become? You better start thinking; you're a junior.
I ate lunch with my parents in Miesville at Kings. They have over 50 styles of hamburger. Quite good.
My dad was pulled over a few miles from the airport. 52 in a 35. Just a warning. The cop gave my dad directions to the airport. Dad started driving and immediately took a wrong turn.
Nico stared out the side window at me as I left the van for the airport. When my parents drove away she moved to the back window so she could keep staring. I miss her.
A computer wasn't working when I checked in my bags. My bike flew free.
A 16 year old autistic boy had difficulties at the airport. One of the many troubles: zipper broke on his suitcase. He dropped to the ground in the middle of where everyone walks. He pleaded for help. Arms raised, too. He was ignored. He would like it to be known that he's from Milwaukee but lives in Texas. And importantly: he hates rednecks.
MSP Terminal 2 - you remind me of MDW and HOU circa 1992. Confusing, inefficient, and ugly.
I was the last to board the plane. Seat 11A.
As I stepped on board, I heard Sigur Ros. Icelandair was playing it over the plane's speakers. I had heard of finding elves, trolls, and fairies on my ride, but now, perhaps, banana slugs, too.
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