The Island.

September 23, 2011

Meg.

I’m in a cab, going from the Lexington airport to the Cincinnati airport. Damn Delta. I think Cincinnati is like the Island in “Lost”: if you’ve been there once, it keeps sucking you back in more and more frequently and against your will until you’re not sure if you’re in Cincinnati or if you’re in Hell. (Minor exaggeration.) My cab driver spent a good 5 minutes finishing his cigarette before getting on with the drive. His cough is startlingly severe. He’s wheezing with every breath.

I’m one step closer to becoming a proud Kentucky hillbilly. And I’m REAL excited!

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