Killing time in airports

Chicago O'Hare 3:40 pm
Notes:
the juxtaposition of plastic utensils and cloth napkins (silverware is not permitted past security, which includes the Wolfgang Puck cafe that we are sitting at)
a jazz combo trying to liven up the O'Hare airport
suddenly remembering what you forgot, like my mom forgetting the travel clock I was going to take on to Jordan. So far I have forgotten nothing, or, rather, I have not yet remembered the things that I have forgotten.

London 9:07 am
The flight was not too bad considering that we had middle seats. Luckily we were able to procure the bulkhead and, therefore, had plenty of leg room. We meet up with AK (I'll consult with her later about a better 'nym). I'm a bet nervous about finding her since I do not have her flight info, but, really, how hard is it to find a 6-foot Korean girl? I guess we'll find out. For now, I'm going to soak up the western-ness of the London airport and walk through a bookstore or two and enjoy the fact that I can read everything, because it is going to be nine weeks before I see abundant English and true western culture. Don't get me wrong, I'm looking forward to it in most ways.