I’m at the airport in San Francisco for seven hours and it is so boring. There is nothing to do but eat sprouts and try on sunglasses and chew nicotine gum. I bought an airport dress because my Hawaii wardrobe is like two pairs of black jeans. I’m lying on the floor in my winter coat, I’m so so so tired and I’m Facebooking with my grandfather on the occasion of his 88th birthday. I’m putting together a box of things for some horses, like turnout blankets, fly masks, salt licks and glucosamine. The good thing about SFO is that people let their dogs walk around everywhere.