20 October 1999

Okay, for those of you who have been panting to buy me presents, but have no idea what to get, I updated my wishlist yesterday. You've got less than three weeks to get me something for my birthday!

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I finally went to Target yesterday and bought everything Matt and I will need for our Hallowe'en costumes. I've got two costumes planned - we just haven't figured out which one of us will be which, yet. And I think they're both very clever. So there. Now, I just have to actually assemble the things.

I bought shoes, too. I finally found shoes with heels that weren't pointy-toed, so I bought a pair. I'm wearing them today, to test them out. My feet already ache from the unaccustomed position of the heels, but I can wiggle my toes, and that's a good thing!

I was fully expecting Matt to tease me about buying more shoes (he already teases me about having a dozen pairs of shoes) but he seems indifferent, more than anything else. Though he did compliment me on them when I put them on this morning, and teased me a little about the fact that they were heels.

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Wednesday? Is that all? It really feels like it should be at least Thursday. I had planned to go to bed immediately after dinner last night, but decided to try and finish my book, since I was so close to the end. It took me another hour, because I had to keep going back and re-reading parts.

Will someone please tell me what it is about cyberpunk writers that they can't come up with endings that make sense? Don't get me wrong - I love cyperpunk-type books. William Gibson and Neal Stephenson are two of my favorite authors. But neither one of them can finish a novel and have it make anything like sense. I thought Gibson was actually going to do it, this time - most of the characters had gotten together, and an end was in sight... And then something weird happened, and from that point, the rest of the novel was completely without logical thought.

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We were chatting in the car this morning on the way to work, and it turned out that Matt and I had had similar dreams last night - that our pitiful dogwood tree had sprouted leaves. I said, "It's a sign! The tree is really alive!"

Matt said, "Or else its soul finally gave up last night."
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I'm sorry this is so short and disjointed - I just can't think two consecutive thoughts today. It's rainy and dark and I just want to take a nap...