for my trip to TO, i packed everything into a small suitcase, then packed that small suitcase into a medium suitcase. the reasoning being, i would be able to bring stuff back with me (namely yarn) without having to worry about having things not fit.
well, first of all, i still barely managed to fit everything in- i actually had to leave a few books behind, but they weren't ones i was going to read soon anyway. second, while unpacking today, it occurred to me that the smaller suitcase was filled almost exclusively with, not yarn, but books. really? since when did i become so damned interested in reading? maybe around the time i started writing like a maniac? hmm.
in fairness, about three of them were knitting books, and there were some knitting magazines in there too. and two knit-lit books. but still, what the hell has happened to me that i didn't manage to fill my entire spare suitcase with yarn?
i guess that's what July will be for.