We're the ones your mother warned your about...No, seriously. We are.

Three hours to kill with a sane/psycho supergoddess..

I am just your average everyday sane/psycho supergoddess....

Three hours. That's how much time I have to burn. My dad was on a Logan run this morning (he drives for a limo service) and the fact that the drop off was four cars deep the morning of December 26th means that I left New Hampshire at 12 noon and was in the terminal for 1:45. However, being an internet spawn, I of course had an e-ticket and fairly whipped through the self-service check-in as well as security only to look at my cell phone (I left my watch in LA by accident - oy, was that bothersome for a week) to find that the time was 2:17. My flight takes off (theoretically) at 5:20.


Grabbed my pre-paid calling card and called Anya to waste some time. Sadly, the "amazing brother-sister duo" - as her voice mail styles Anya & her sibling Drew - were not in residence. So much for that. Pity, as after a week out of L.A., there were definitely conversations to be had.

I am once again reminded at times like this that I need a laptop, as there are at least three projects that I could progress on right now. Instead, I decided to head to the airport bookstore, since all the books that came East with me have been read, and I know that if I sit down and read, the copy of The Hobbit that Golden made me buy after his horrified discovery that I'd never read it wouldn't last long.

Oh god, let me save you, I might change you and I might change my life too...

Walking to the shop, I can see one couple, around my age, standing just outside the security check where I'm presuming one can go & one cannot. They're making out with no small amount of gusto, having found a corner to call their own. Several thoughts fly through my brain at seeing this, but the one I'm willing to share with you is that of high school, because the reminded me of the couples who'd treat each separation as thought the fates had imposed a lifelong tragedy upon them instead of the forty-five minutes of state-mandated education that it actually was. I remember my sister had a pair of friends who were so bad that they were given the unofficial "sorry I swallowed your sunglasses, I was trying to stick my tongue in your ear" award.
Most of all, I remember passing these couples & having my friend Brad tap one guy on the shoulder to say, "excuse me, you're impeding my right to learn. Now move along, lustbirds, you're going to class, not shipping out to war." At the time, it was hilarious, but as I walk into the shop & the first magazine cover is Time with the American Soldier as Person of the Year... Suddenly that joke isn't as funny five years later, ya know?