NBLB at The Airport

This entry was written during a layover in San Francisco Airport, which explains all the travel-related content. I could’ve posted this right away if not for the fact that the WiFi situation at SFO wasn’t so blatantly sucky. (Obviously I miss the free WiFi in Honolulu and Portland – heh.)

Just finished reading: It’s Called A Breakup Because It’s Broken – the book written by that guy from He’s Just Not That Into You. Yeah, I was supposed to catch up on my Mayle and Coelho and McEwan, but I thought that a frothy self-help book about separation anxieties should send the appropriate “don’t talk to me, I’m sleep-deprived” message to any prospective seatmates. (As if the coffee-stained inflatable neck pillow covered in cat hair wasn’t enough…) Not to mention that the advice and dating horror stories are funny as all get-out.

Speaking of prospective seatmates: No, I have not met that Sudoku-toting twin to Gerard Butler at all – and the closest I may have been to doing so must have been that one guy in the Detroit-SFO leg who I swear could be the missing link between Hugh Laurie (aesthetically) and Howdy Doody (vocally), who was reading The World Is Flat while patiently enduring the cute but noisy (and obviously unrelated) baby next to him. Luckily for him, he came armed with $3 Twizzlers, which said baby chewed on with reckless abandon.

Currently reading: This month’s edition of Real Simple, which promises “Easy Organizing: 99 Affordable Ideas” and “35 great summer reads.” (Still haven’t gotten around to reading either article, however.) Was tempted by O (with Oprah promising a similar review of summer reads) and Allure (Reader’s Awards for makeup, yes; Jessica Alba, meh) – but, hey, shows you where my priorities are right now.

(Postscript: Yeah, way to go, Real Simple, for putting authors together to recommend summer reads. Liz Gilbert’s recs are a gas, as are Sophie Kinsella's… but will somebody please serve Danielle Steel a tall glass of Shut Up? Or at least send her to the same Catholic parish where Anne Rice got her conversion, because I don’t think Joel Osteen is curing D. of her dullness problem.)

Buyer’s remorse: I really should have bought American Gods as a parting gift for Scribe as soon as I saw it selling for $4 on paperback at Mac’s Backs, but apparently it got snapped up while I wasn’t looking. ;) I also regret passing up Sammy’s Hill at Applewood Books… although, to be fair, I thought they’d be selling it for cheaper at Mac’s and Half-Price Books anyway, since it’s been out for years and Kristin Gore already wrote a sequel since then. (The Sammy books, however, will end up in my Must Borrow list -- next to Mort by Terry Pratchett.)

Buyer’s remorse, part 2: Four words – Powell’s City of Books. Apparently the main branch in Portland (OR) has four floors’ worth of books on sale. If I ever decide to spend more than 5 hours in Portland outside of PDX, I am SO going there.

Nicest airport employee: The clerk at SFO’s Aviator Bookstore actually saved my butt when I realized I left my Ziploc of liquid items at her cashier stand. “I was looking for you,” she told me as she handed the baggy to me. Score!