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Last night, Nate was in Los Angeles for work. It was just me and the kitties. I ate leftovers, plus a PB&J because I was still hungry. I watched The Real World and My Super Sweet Sixteen as I put together favors for a friend's upcoming bridal shower. When I was getting ready for bed it hit me: Nights like this won't happen again--at least not for a good 18 years. No talking, no making dinner--simply watching really bad TV by myself and getting some personal stuff done. A 100% dull--but very enjoyable--evening at the same time. I'm going to miss doing nothing.

And tonight, four girlfriends came over for a little pre-Project Runway clohting swap. (See my loot, above.) We ate pizza, yelled at the TV, and scored lots of great goodies. Will I have to wait 18 years for more of these kinds of nights, too? I really truly hope not. I figure, as long as I'm the one who always has the most beer in the fridge, people will come. Right? Right?
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