Sitting at Boston Logan airport watching the light snow swirl around a Saab 340 that I intend to ride back to Bar Harbor shortly. I’ve just completed another annual Shmoocon and I couldn’t help but remember having a flu and sleep deprivation induced anxiety attack and calling L.

Another, “holy shit what a year” post? Perhaps. It does make a point of measurement.

Kate asked recently about what relationships really are and mean to me, why I am so disinterested in understanding people and don’t often ask them about themselves, especially when I am not romantically interested in them.

I was thinking this weekend about enjoying listening to L talk. I wonder how that would have lasted qnd changed had not our time been so very brief. It was rare, even among the select few.

I met a former Expressjet pilot at Shmoocon Labs this time. I wonder if he ever met my father.

I’m anxious to get home. So much to do.