I figured that people would start to freak out if I didn’t post anywhere soon, so …

I left work around noon on Thursday to drive up to Nashvegas. I’d planned to meet up with Jeremy Casella and talk about the things we have going on in our lives and such. That conversation was so interesting for implications that it has for projects we’re both wanting to pull off—eerily similar, I tell you!—and it was just plain good times.

Before I met up with Jeremy, I drove by the Osengas’ house to see if they were home. I was earlier than I’d told Jeremy I’d be, so I thought I’d stop by and pay my respects to Poopsenga. Turns out that they weren’t home.

After I left JJ’s Market—I’ll be going back there —-I drove out to the airport. Traffic was kinda fugly, but I had plenty of time. I got checked in through security and had just picked up my dinner at one of the concourse restaurants when I hear someone say: “Geof Morris.” I turn around and … it’s Andy O. The reason I hadn’t seen the Osengas at home was because they, too, were scrambling to get out of town. What a freaky strange occurrence.

Well, not really; before I’d ducked into the restaurant concourse, I’d had my head on a swivel just in case I saw anyone that I knew. Trey can’t have all the fun for seeing musicians in Nashville! I had a good time shooting the breeze with Andy and Alison. It’s good to know that Share the Well is now finally in the can [as of Tuesday]. Maybe now Cliff will slip us the entire thing. [hint!]

I broke out my CD player to listen to some tunes for the 90-minute wait I had at my gate, but I had no juice. I broke out the battery charger and charged up four AA’s. During the charging time, we were notified that our inbound plane was delayed. I had more charging time, which was good. I sent Sean a text message to let him know about the delay, and then I called once we finally got on the plane–a half-hour late.

As I expected, I crashed pretty darn hard on the plane. I remember seeing the stewardess asking the row in front of me what they wanted to drink, and then the next thing I remember is about two hours later. I’d picked Blues Traveler’s four to rock out to while I slept because I’ve listened to that album so much that I don’t even really think about anything when I listen to it anymore.

Our half-full flight to PHX was a little bumpy, but otherwise it was pretty nice. Predictably, I got put at the farthest gate from where Sean and Kat were waiting. We hugged and then proceeded to try to get lost in PHX. [They always come in on Delta, so Concourse C is unusual to them.] Kat then kept wanting to take wrong turns on the way out here to Maricopa.

As you’ve seen from the photos, they really do have a nice little house here in Maricopa. What’s amusing is that they’re out on the southern fringe of Phoenix; Kat tells me that they’re technically in the metro Tuscon area, but I have a hard time believing that, having just looked at a map. I do know that it was a healthy drive down from the airport. No wonder they car pool.

Friday deserves its own entry …