Boston

I'm typing this at a little cafe area in Logan. Things went relatively smoothly. This morning was nice. I got up at around 7:15 and had breakfast. Nothing too fancy, just some egg crepes with scallions. I went to bed at around 1 last night, and coupled with my usual amount of time to fall asleep nowadays, it basically boils down to me running on less than 6 hours of sleep right now. But if there's anything I learned at St. Paul's it's how to live with sleep deprivation. I've developed the willpower to drag myself out of bed and wake up after the fact. But a hot shower and a cup of coffee (black, it's the only way to fly, thanks to Dan Thompson for that) and I'm feeling bright-eyed and busy-tailed. Besides, I need to knock my biological clock out of whack so I won't suffer so much jet lag. Then again, I've traveled enough to China now that I suffer very little time zone shock/jet lag, but maybe that's just my by-now wonky and defunct biological clock.

The drive was the usual crap; traffic and more traffic. Boy was it a good idea to leave early. We made good time, though and arrived at Logan around 9. My dad used to suffer through this kinda traffic daily for work, but now he tries to work from home as much as possible. my mom got a little paranoid when she was checking in my bag. Since I lost my bag last time, she felt that if we labelled it more clearly, it would come back to us if it was lost. It doesn't contain anything important; gifts for relatives and grandparents and replaceable items of clothing. But even so, the bag has its own label and three of those elastic tags that the airline supplies. I'm actually travelling pretty light. Normally, I have my backpack (or a duffel bag last year) loaded with some stuff that wouldn't fit in my check-in stuff and my own belongings. This time, my carry-on is pretty much entirely personal and very light. I'm actually bringing this little wheeled contraption and laptop bag pair for a friend of my mom's but I'm using them for now (breaking it in, so to speak). The wheeled bag is small, nimble and light as a feather (unlike the clunky Chinese makes I'm used to, this is a Swiss Gear; compact and functional). I can literally dance with that thing. It'll be a shame to part with it.

Ugh, the Terminal music is reminiscent of my roommate's. It's almost entirely oldies pop. At first it was relatively enjoyable: 100 years (Five for Fighting) and then Every Breath You Take (Sting and the Police) were playing when I was checking in, but now as I'm typing this, Dancing Queen and What a Night are playing. When school starts up again, I'm gonna take a stand on music. Normally, I'm complacent about the music in the room, but now I need to be more assertive, damn it! Before I left, I clumped all of my Radiohead and Red Hot Chili Peppers together in a playlist, the two bands that I need to explore more fully. Hey, Calling All Angels just started playing. Then again, Andy plays this all the time, too. Damn it! I curse you from afar, and laugh at your physics workload! I'll at least be doing something I enjoy *blows raspberry*.