Groomed and Nervous.

I'm groomed to an inch of my life.

I've set an alarm for far earlier than is necessary; my roomies are all going to loveee me tomorrow morning. Ahh well the joys of hosteling. (It is quite joyous actually. We've just been given hand made cake from a very jolly Australian who exclaimed 'bullshit' when I told her why I'm in New York and then promptly asked what I'm going to wear tomorrow. I keep saying I've been lucky with my roomies, but I can't have got such good luck to last me for the whole of my Europe gallivant and New York; I've come to the conclusion that most people are just nice).

I will definitely arrive unfashionably early and will be hanging around drinking coffee for a good half hour. Finally the supersize Starbucks on every street corner have their uses...

I've read and reread the latest edition of American Harper's (although this did only highlight how little I know) and have picked a favourite look for A/W (ooh yes look at me using the lingo) should they ask.

Only my desecrated cuticles give me away...

I am actually very excited, but am looking forward to tomorrow being completed and in the past, rather than unknown and in the future.

Packing Commences

Packing for New York has commenced. Keeping it simple by basically just taking everything I own.

I always get terrible Packing Stress, even when I'm only going away for a night. The terror of rejecting an item of clothing which I later discover is vital to the trip and, indeed, my very happiness, is strong. Some may even say excessively so.
But I've never been to New York before, let alone for a two week intern at Harper's Bazaar; what do I take?!
This is beyond stressful.