I realize that almost nobody cares, but I'm excited to report I finished The Prisoner, the first half of the tome I've been lugging around since February. I feel that the 384 pages this represents seems quite pathetic, but this book has just not captured me the way the other ones have (though it picked up midway as a couple conspired to socially destroy another character in the book). It's odd to think that he wrote it so late in his life, and that The Fugitive (the other half), should, in fact, represent the pinnacle of his writing. On the other hand, I'm really looking forward to Time Regained now, since it should mark a return to the writing I've enjoyed and will have a complete lack of Albertine in it. (I guess I'll miss Albertine, truth be told, but I rejoice in the thought of never hearing the narrator speak of her again - in another 350 pages or so.)
I've been up packing long enough to get punchy, so it's time to go to bed. I'll be heading to the airport around 10 AM tomorrow.
LATER: I just figured out how to take the bus from the airport to my hotel, and now feel public transportation 133t.