Chop chop

I got an email this morning from the blog bully with the subject heading "chop chop" and I steeled myself for some stern words about blog slacking, but that's not what he meant. Yay! It was a joke about the speediness/busy-ness of New Yorkers and how I'd better step up my game because I'm headed to NY in the morning. Don't worry, I had been planning to tell you: Hi. I'm going to NY tomorrow. I have to be on my way to the airport at 5:45AM, which is a time of day I generally opt out of, so please wish me luck. I hope to have stories to tell you when I get back.

Meanwhile, I'm in a dither about packing. April is a tricky time weather-wise. Will I be too hot? Will I be too cold? Will I look like a country bumpkin? (That has nothing to do with April. That has to do with New York.) What to do? This is also the inaugural journey of the very light suitcase I got for Christmas (thanks, Mom!) and I have discovered that its lightness may very well be related to its smallness. It is worryingly small. This doesn't concern me so very much for a four-day trip, but I am less confident about this summer's three weeks. Tell me, little suitcase, do you have the capacity for me to be consistently lovely for three weeks? On second thought, perhaps that is too much to ask of a suitcase. Have I mentioned the acne? It's true. My skin has been worse over the last month than it has at any point in my life. Why? Why, O ye gods? Whatever the reason, there is nothing the suitcase can do about it.

Something for you to ponder in my absence: why do pears rot from the inside out, so that you bite into their firm outer flesh without the slightest sense of trepidation, only to spit out a mouthful of mush? It seems odd for fruit to enjoy practical jokes. I win in the end though, because it's Free Cone Day at Ben and Jerry's (a mere block away). Ice cream! Take that, fruit.

(And don't go ahem-ing and raising your eyebrows toward the acne paragraph. I'm sure ice cream has nothing to do with it. In fact, I may apply an ice cream compress directly to my chin. Perhaps that will clear things up.)