Day 1: Wichita to Atlanta

Ok, since I’m going to be away from the computer, I’m gonna blog here (my journal) and then transfer to the computer once I’m home:

I’m waiting in the Wichita Airport right now. If I don’t chug this Coke, will they make me throw it away/ I can’t remember when drinks have to be thrown away. The # system is really messed up hee- I parked between the ‘10’ sign and the ‘15‘sign in spot #767. Near the ‘7’ sign? The spaces are numbered in the 1500s. Seems strange – Dad: I’m too lazy to start a letter-writing campaign to fix this problem. Will you?

My headphones around my neck either make me look cool or really dorky. They are big like DJ headphones. Disc Jockey, not Dan Judy. Anyway, I’m too old to know which, but I’m leaning towards cool. Like I could break-dance at any moment.

This airport has only 12 gates. It’s tiny. I wonder if the people who see me writing in this think I am writing a letter, a novel or a really long grocery list. When I’m flying to or from Atlanta, I always look for any of the six people I know who live in Atlanta. Today if any of them walk off the plane in Wichita, it’s going to be fairly upsetting. Ok I better focus on this coke so I don’t waste it.

Oh! That state of the spider. I’ve been asked if she is doing ok – and whether she is growing or shrinking anymore lately. The answer is no. My dad, apparently jealous of the spider’s celebrity here in my blog killed her in a rage. Not just her, but also destroyed her egg sac. He’s a bold-faced killa.

NOW back to NOW.

Update: the spider is actually still alive. My mom – being the nurturing type brought her back to her web safely. Unfortunately there is nothing that can be done for her tiny, tiny babies. Bad dad.