Ketchup:

I spent my last day in Poland, after packing and moving my suitcase to Rachel’s apartment, at Mlezcarnia and Sarah’s with R, N, G&O&B, and our new friend J, a Canadian import who also happens to work with Song of the Goat.

Meeting another member of that company on the night before I was going to leave the country was a little on-the-nose. The part I especially didn’t need was this line: “You’re leaving tomorrow??”

Flight from Wroclaw to Warsaw at 7 AM. An eight-hour layover in Warsaw, during which I read more of the GROTOWSKI SOURCEBOOK and spent about half an hour crying by a window, for good measure – about the work ahead or the work behind me, I don’t know, but it was clearly something I needed to do. There is nothing like crying in an airport. You’re not alone, and yet people are afraid to speak to you.

I slept on a row of empty chairs – my first time sleeping in an airport.

Flight from Warsaw to Chicago at 5 PM, during which I sat next to a former Texan who engineers oil rigs in the Ukraine. I asked him what my problem was – this is something I like to ask strangers on planes. He told me what it was, but I’m going to keep it to myself for the moment.

Favorite line from plane: as we flew over Iceland, the woman behind me: “That’s not Chicago!”

And, as noted, met Caitlin at O’Hare.

My roommates B and K from the US Artists initiative have made it safely back to the US, although K was delayed a day by a bomb threat on her Wroclaw-Warsaw puddle-jumper. Very glad that didn’t happen to me.

We are going out to find enormous American pancakes now and get fat. I dreamed this morning of the (name of that movie about Roman food orgies-esque)* brunch X and I ate at that cake-colored Vegas hotel. When in Rome, &c.

* I seem to have left all the words in Poland. I am getting as bad as the guy from Indy who couldn’t remember the word “editor.” I made fun of him at the time, but it’s coming back to haunt me.