The airport is one of the strangest environments I know of. While I am in it I am only slightly aware that the airport I'm in is actually located somewhere. There are little clues that indicate you are in Oregon (posters advertising Leatherman knives over the baggage claim) or Arizona (desert themed restauraunts) but in general you are always more in a nowhere-mall than anywhere else. Right now I am at a "mall" in Sacramento. I am watching the news, listening to elevator jazz, drinking starbucks, blogging on WiFi, eating trail mix, and waiting for my flight simultaneously. I feel like an American.
At the beginning of my journey I posted a few photos of me at the airport watching CNN and sitting at the kiddie table. Now at the other end of my journey I am posting a couple of new photos. I look a little unkempt after my harrowing adventures in Oregon!
