16 September 2002 - 12:46 a.m.
16 September 2002
Reading: New Yorker
It's an interesting day. I'm finally using this here laptop as more than just a slimline desktop. I'm actually in the Nashville airport, waiting for Christy to show up to come retrieve me. That is, I've flown all night, bouncing from Lindbergh to O'Hare to Nashville, to get here. She, however, got a job interview at the very last moment for Ft. Campbell Credit Union, working nights for good money, with a guy she's trying to hook up with. That trumps the shit out of an ex-boyfriend, so she went to the interview (which, as it turned out, didn't even happen: she was just given the job) and as such, I'm stuck waiting. Oh well. It doesn't bother me so bad. Ordinarily, or in the past, it would have, but now? I've got a couple New Yorkers, _Lies My Teacher Told Me_, and the Idiots' Guides to Filmmaking and Kickboxing.
I never noticed how dirty my computer is. Ugh. And my CD case got lost/stolen on my first plane. Set it under the seat, when I landed, it wasn't there. Did the search, no find, filed a lost item claim, which won't work either. I reckon someone just picked it up, but woe be on them. I don't know -anyone- that would knowingly steal a case stuffed full of Sleater-Kinney, MC Chris, PPK, and Greg Brown.
Fuckers. Had all my favorite CDs in there, too.
