08 October 2002 - 1:19 p.m.

Ahh, procrastination.

Actually, I've gotten a decent start on my work already, but I've also spent more time than usual online today. But how can I get my work done when Woody Allen might be releasing a film as early as May? I need the dish, yo!

Ms. V, I want to go camping ever so much. I realize you told me to leave you a note or send you an email, but why deprive my readers of the image of me "ruffin' it?" And for those of you who haven't read me long, or haven't seen me in person, know this: my purse doesn't just match my shoes. My purse matches this diary.

But don't tell that to the guys who invited us camping, because I really do want to go. And at least it's on the beach, which means I can probably get by without shoes that tie.

Yeah. I don't have any shoes that tie with me in VA. Shoelaces have never been much of a priority for me. I was mostly concerned with fitting all of my white dresses into my suitcases, as I am currently a belle and all. Maybe I should have thought ahead, though if anyone had told me in August that I'd need to pack for camping, no way would I have believed them. I would have laughed them out of my general vicinity so fast there would have been, like, a Sam Seaborn-shaped hole in the wall.

What I'm wearing:

What I'm reading:

What I'm doing after this: