I can measure the time before I get on a plane and fly to New Jersey in DAYS now. Not weeks, DAYS. On Saturday, I will be hopping on a plane, then on another plane, to go out to meet Kelly, and then we will do BEA (Book Expo America) in STYLE like the awesome young women we are.
I am going to New York City with Kelly, and she is going to show me all the amazing coolness that New York City is, and we are going to the Shake Shack like in Maureen Johnson's Suite Scarlett books and we are going to The Strand (one of the coolest bookstores ever) and we are going to meet our favorite authors and all the most exciting things ever and I am hugely excited.
And THEN on Friday, we are going to the Jersey Shore (not the TV show), which is by the OCEAN and it will be only the SECOND TIME I have EVER SEEN an ocean EVER IN MY LIFE. And my mum says there are crabs there on the beach JUST WALKING AROUND!! Not even on TV or anything! They LIVE there on the beach! Can you believe it??
I think I will find a crab and I will name him Humphrey. Because it seems as if crabs should have dignified sorts of names.
And all of that will more than make up for the terror of flying by myself for the first time ever, and the terror of a mere 37 minute layover in Atlanta, and the terror of forgetting things at home and not having them when I need them, and the terror of deciding whether or not I need to bring my laptop with me during this whole thing, when I am not certain how often I'll really use it*. I am also mildly panicked that I will look so out of place in the city that people will think I sleep in straw and rode a cow into town. I never worry about that in Chicago...
So tonight I will do laundry and tomorrow I will pack, and then Saturday, I will be off for ADVENTURE and I am very excited. And panicky. But mostly EXCITED.
Wish me luck, and if you need me, I will be here. You should also text me. I like text messages.
*I need it, don't I? It's a WEEK. I need my laptop. RIGHT?
You didn't ride a cow into town.
ReplyDeleteThat's because you don't say "All ya'll", "motorcicle," or "choirpractor."
Trust me, you're ok.
Now, about that stalker in the airport...you're on your own.
--Dad