• Amalah
• Ampersand
• Cowgirl Funk
• Cut the Crap
• A Damn Thing
• Fly in the Honey
• From the Mind of the Dawnie
• Hannah Cooks
• Hannah Talks
• Hashai
• Hate Your Daddy
• Hussified
• Invinciblegirl
• JournalCon 2004
• Journey of a Girl
• Kiss My Grits
• Les-Cadeaux
• Meegor
• Nearly There
• The Nuthouse
• Pineapple Girl
• The Rage Diaries
• The Random Muse
• SkinnyKat
• That Something
• What Does a Girl Do?

Saturday, I woke up early and putzed around my apartment, made myself Kraft Dinner (I think it’s correct to call it that even though I am not Canadian. If that makes me pretentious, I’ll stop) at 10:30 a.m. because I was starving, and climbed back into bed with a book, a bowl of shells and cheese, and Significant Others reruns on the TV. I promptly fell back asleep around noon and woke up a few hours later, which means that combined with the Daylight Savings Time change today, I screwed up my sleep schedule for the next several days with my much needed nap. I spent Saturday night watching basketball at the bar with my friends and getting absolutely wasted. I came home pretty early (hey, we DID start drinking around 4 p.m.) and apparently left a drunken post over at MATH+1 proclaiming much love for the Huskies and my second-favorite Nigerian man, Emeka Okafor. Yeah, I’m classy.

This morning I woke up freaking out because I thought someone had broken into my apartment. My apartment is two-story and my bedroom is open (“lofted”, they call it) and the stairs are right up against the neighbors’ stairwell. They are newlyweds and I can totally hear them having sex at all hours of the day. I am not sure if they are employed because they keep the weirdest hours, but that’s really none of my business. Their weird sex noises, however, have been made my business. My other neighbor and I share a bathroom/laundry room wall upstairs and the living room wall downstairs, and I can never hear him, which is great considering that he has a drumset and a great big amp in his apartment, as if he is trying to get a garage band going in his dining room. I don’t know.

Anyway, I woke up freaking out because I heard a door slam and a set of feet making all sorts of noise going up the stairs and it was so loud that it sounded like it was in my apartment. So I’m in bed, so scared that I can barely breathe and my heart was absolutely racing, with my phone in one hand and 911 already dialed, just waiting to hit the Talk button, until I finally realized that it was my Stomping Elephant Neighbor going up the stairs and not an intruder. I’m very jumpy and occasionally paranoid about being a single girl living alone, but I haven’t been that scared in a long time. So then I went back to sleep to try to get rid of my hangover headache.

I’ve tried to be productive this weekend, with catching up on package-sending and e-mail-responding, and all the regular tasks of grocery shopping, menu planning, cleaning, laundry, washing dishes, and everything else that seems to stack up and wait for a weekend to happen. I mostly did those things, but I also did things like going through 18 months of old Cooking Light magazines and tearing out recipes that I like or that sound interesting, cleaning moldy food out of my refrigerator (of which there was an absolutely embarrassing amount), organizing the contents of the freezer (i.e., SmartOnes over here, Lean Cuisines over there, Healthy Choice right there, and low-fat ice cream hiding back here), etc.

I have high hopes of changing the digital clocks, finally updating my cast page, paying some bills online, and firing up the grill and cooking hot dogs later today, but I’m pretty lazy and it’s unlikely that all of those things will happen in the next few hours. It’s been a lame weekend and I’m starting to accept that as a not-so-bad fact about grown-up life.