Alas for my potato-filled dreams

The melatonin gave me very vivid, happy dreams of Daniel Levy winning an Emmy and being adorable about it, so I was mildly annoyed to wake up and find out that this is not what happened. Please conform to my imagination, real world.

Oktoberfest Friday night was a delight, full of beer and potato and an apple torte that I would have buried my face in had the entire pan been presented to me. The Pierogi Fest a few towns over did not fare as well, alas. Apparently, when the Fest began at 3:00pm, the first several people in line at the pierogi tent purchased in bulk--like, buying dozens at a time--and so by the time Yeats and I and our friends arrived at just before 4:00, the volunteers were passing out vouchers for a free drink at one of the town pubs to the folks in line, since they were going to literally run out of pierogies before the majority of the line got to the tent. We decided that the line wasn't worth it, and got drinks and snacks at a nice restaurant. Which was fine, but I was really anticipating the pierogies. Oh well.

Two weeks to Ren Faire! This unseasonably warm weather had better cool down appropriately, I am too ladylike to sweat through my corset, and Yeats is hinting that my anniversary gift is wearable and Faire-appropriate and will arrive early...

Reading Log: Song of the Abyss by Makiia Lucier; The Unkindest Tide by Seanan McGuire; The Crescent Stone by Matt Mikalatos; The Right Swipe by Alisha Rai; Dark Fire by C.J. Sansom