I’m in Houston! I knew the minute the swampy, humid air hit my face and I quickly found myself on an eight lane highway with a forest of tacky, neon signs on either side that the prodigal Patricia had returned.
This return involved two plane rides and a sandwich in Baltimore, whose airport is actually just a mall where some planes hang out. On the latter plane, Steven and I decided that the BEST POSSIBLE use of our time was to write each other notes while listening to our respective iPods. Naturally this quickly devolved into joint poetry:
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