I see Oregon people.

When I got off my plane in Denver, I saw people with Oregon sweatshirts on. I nearly attacked them with questions about my home state. I'm quite partial to these folk as they can pronounce "Oregon" properly.

But anyway, there were lots of them. It was like Oregon overload!

I can't even explain how happy it made me feel to see mountains as we flew in to Denver. I'm not sure I'll ever want to go back to the Missouri flatness ever again. And as I'm stuck in this airport that hates Facebook (it won't load Farmville. This is a travesty.) So I'm going to blog. It might be fantastic. Which means that it will take up a half hour of my time here in Denver.

I've always loved airports because they are full of stories. Some people are flying off to far away places while others are returning home from long trips away from their loved ones.

For instance, as I was drinking my morning coffee in the Kansas City Airport's Starbucks, I saw a couple reunite. The girl got off of her plane and was walking past Starbucks with her bags when he caught sight of her. He yelled her name down the concourse and started running toward her. She dropped her bags and ran toward him.

It was so movie-esque, but it was so sweet, I couldn't help but smile.

And be slightly jealous.

But my time will come.

Eventually.

Hopefully.

Someday.

But anyway, everyone has a story and I would love to just muse about them, but that is more than a little creepy.

And plus I can't focus because I've been sleep deprived all week. Seriously. 20 hours of sleep in the last week. Ugh. Not good for focussing. Which is why I'm saying adieu from Gate B89: the farthest place from everything (including a power outlet) at the Denver airport.