Fear and Loathing at the BMI

So, here I am on the road, coming to you live from the Green Zone at the enchantingly named Central IL Regional at Bloomington/Normal Airport. It's just as nice as it sounds.

Thus far, the horsemen have stayed well out of sight. I was in and out of my Local Indy Bookseller^TM in 5 minutes, Lamb and Island of the Sequined Love Nun in hand. (It's going to be a very Christopher Moore trip.) I raced like a bat out of hell from Urbana to Bloomington without a police car in sight. I entered long term parking and found that the closest possible parking spot was empty and waiting for me. There were no lines at check in. The TSA officers were attractive, upbeat, and displayed a suspicious lack of neanderthal brownshirt swagger.

My traveling companion, an ancient iBook, immediately found the airport's free wireless network upon powering up, and aside from the fact that it's sucking down power like a Lohan fresh out of rehab, I'm online and blogging with a minimum of effort.

Not only has the other shoe not dropped, I'm starting to wonder if the first shoe slept in. The fact that my Local Indy Bookseller^TM did not have Nightmare Before Christmas on DVD is hardly the kind of drama I expect from one of my trips. I packed Corpse Bride just in case. Suck it, fates!

Next stop, O'Hare. Assuming they have not joined the 21st Century (already in progress) since the last time I passed through, there will be no internet access. There will, however, be omnipresent announcements from the Ministry of Truth about the current state of the war against Eastasia (or is it Eurasia this week?) so I'll have that to entertain me.

It's almost time to board, so I will close for now.

I am Deadspot, reporting live from the BMI Security Zone.