. . . then their waiting lounge would have free wireless access. Then I could have blogged from there today.
My trusty (ish) 97 SL2 had a mysterious recurring fuse-blowing problem. Apparently, it resurfaced while we were in Mexico--the car was staying with Sarah's grandfather, and it wouldn't start to come to the airport to get us. This was not great news to hear after Our Horrible Flight™, including terrifying winds on the way down into O'Hare and an hour and a half in the plane on the tarmac in Philly. (Again, I'm not sure I saw Atrios. It would help of he'd just tell us who he is and get it over with.)
So anyway, this afternoon was at the Saturn dealership, where they took $170 worth of labor time to take apart my dash and replace a $12 wire.
So, on the trip, I did much good eating, lounging, sleeping, and reading. In fact, I read five whole books. That almost makes up for the books I don't read while school is on and I have other things to do. In order of much I liked them:
That Old Ace in the Hole, by Annie Proulx. Funny in the right places, sentimental in others, and with bronc-riding monks. Really.I did not sunburn, nor did I succumb to any intestinal distress. However, some bug or something kept biting me and I have welts on my legs the size of a ten-peso coin. And they itch something awful.
Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Friend, by Chris Moore. This is the kind of book that, had I read it in high school, would have made me feel rebellious. But now, some of it just seemed contrived. I won't give away the ending, though . . .
Plainsong by Kent Haruf. Very bleak. I read it first--in one day, mostly on the plane on the way out. Very bleak. Bleak.
The Peter Principle, by Dr. Laurence J. Peter and Raymond Hull, which I re-read for a particular project.
Artemis Fowl, by Eoin Colfer. Not anywhere near as good as the Harry Potter series.
I am, though, very tired. Busy weeks ahead for this boy. Perhaps more later on my travels. For now, one last thanks to JD, who fought dental surgery and John Ashcroft to be with you as stunt folkbum last week. Anytime you feel the itch, Jeff, just let 'er rip!
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