1. I finally got the time to put my blueberry and raspberry plants, named Blooregard and Jezebel respectively, in the ground. There’s still work to do in the garden, but it’ll have to wait until next week, after my Lit essay is done.
Honestly, I know nothing about gardening. I just like eating berries.
2. New York is tomorrow! My outfit is laundered, the CDs to be sold at Book Off are safely packed inside my tote alongside a granola bar and my freshly charged phone and camera, and I’m knowledgeable enough on the subway system that I won’t look like a complete tourist. (I solemnly swear to refrain from taking pictures of myself gleefully posing with my first MetroCard. At least while still in the station.)
Maybe all my preparedness seems borderline-obsessive, but after having three dreams in the past week where I was on my way to Manhattan and realized I had forgotten something significant, I’m a little bit paranoid I’m going to forget something big. Like my wallet. Or wearing clothes. Nothing is more nightmarish than eating your lunch in the middle of Bryant Park and suddenly realizing you’re not wearing any pants. (Am I the only one that gets the “OMFG! Where did my clothes go?!” dreams?)
Also, it looks like I’ll be missing Neil Gaiman by a day. *sad*
3. I bought rollerblades last Sunday. Clearly, I’m a masochist. But surprisingly, despite my personal lack of balance and coordination, I’m skating more than falling.
Still not getting the concept of braking though. But I remember back in middle school when it was cool to have your birthday party at a skating rink and I’d be forced skate timidly around the same oval shape for hours. Rollerskates have two brakes and they both went unused by me. I’d build up momentum, excited I was staying on my feet, and when I wanted to stop I’d just have to wait for a bar or another unsuspecting skater to cross my path.
Stopping. That’s what the walls are for, right?
4. I had to call all the hotels on Otakon’s hotels list. Because first, I couldn’t find my reservation notes from last year when I was booking the rooms. And then when I found the notes, I couldn’t remember what the heck they meant.
See, you’re not the only people that don’t get me. I don’t either.
5. Finished Sarah Dessen’s The Truth About Forever and began re-reading Twilight with the purpose of marking my favourite passages before pulling the book apart to decoupage.