Okay, it's actually the bowels of the airport. But the ambiance is a bit like what Bilbo might have experienced while creeping down into that mountain, I imagine.
Still (at my parents' place, 9/04/05) Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more; it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. ~ Shakespeare, Macbeth, V.v.19-28
I write. I shoot (photographs). I work at a bookstore. I cook and I bake. Heck, I'll even juggle (badly) if you ask nicely enough. And on October 3rd, I am going to attempt yet again to run the Twin Cities Marathon. 2008: DNS. 2009: DNF. 2010: DFL???