Some notes from the weekend

The Blizzard of '05 was the best thing that could have happened to me this weekend. I got my iPod all set up, and downloaded Green Day's American Idiot. I listened to it no less than 10 times in its entirety, because it's that good. I cleaned my room. I gave myself a manicure and pedicure. I plucked my eyebrows. I unpacked my sweaters and packed up my tank tops. I tried to watch Stuck on You and then gave up because it was that bad. I talked to a cute Bond Trader and made a date for Thursday. I have no idea what a Bond Trader does, exactly, but something tells me he'll buy me drinks. I cooked up a storm. I did The Roommate's Pilates DVD. I read Self Magazine. And Jane. I yelled at Jane Pratt. I played with the cats. I tried to read One Hundred Years of Solitude again, but got confused by all the Arcadios and Aurelianos and gave up. I watched Saturday Night Live. I got some sleep. I dropped a bottle of Chianti in Dunkin' Donuts. I called Fix in Texas and giggled when she told me about "that motherfucker who has the only green lawn in the entire development."

I love snow, more so than I did when I lived in upstate New York and had to deal with that pesky car business. I strolled through it to have brunch at Mara's Homemade with Petey. You should go. Try the Eggs Hussarde.