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other recent LOUNGE articles:
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o Open House: Sydney Sanctuary
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A Room of My Own
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o After School
Sew What?
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Lazy Decorator's Bag of Tricks

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home alone seven days of the solo life 
by Yee-Fan Sun
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continued from page 1

There are some who will note that much of my me-time activities seem to involve allowing myself to cry. Itís not that I canít cry when Iím with the boy Ė I have, plenty, and he still loves me just fine Ė but thereís something so terribly indulgent about letting myself get so involved in a book or movie that I actually bawl that Iíd just as soon not let anyone else see this sappy, pathetic, puffy-eyed, blotchy-skinned side of me. I have my dignity, see. Or maybe itís just my vanity

day 1
Iím so secretly thrilled about this treasured time alone that after dropping him off at the airport Friday morning, I immediately head to the video store to peruse the shelves. Yes, I should be working, but since Iíll have so much free time this weekend, I figure I can get my work done whenever Ė no rush to do it straight-away-right-now in some effort to save all that normally precious weekend time to hang out with the boy. I grab a bag of free popcorn Ė yes, among the many wonderful quirks of my fabulous local independent video store is that they provide free popcorn while you browse their very impressive array of offerings Ė and immediately set towards finding the perfect girly movie to kick-start my single-girl week. I walk out with the Sex and the City Season 1 DVD tucked in hand.

Single girl night gets temporarily put on hold, though, when my friend B decides heís suffering Buffy withdrawal. Always happy to share my Buffy addiction with others, I tell him to come over, and we spend the evening chatting about all sorts of good stuff, and sprawled in the living room watching our favorite vampire slayer kick demon butt.

day 2
Saturday morning I go grocery shopping, then stop by a used bookstore to browse around. I end up ensconced in a comfy armchair reading the first few chapters of Diane Johnsonís Le Mariage, a book I eventually decide not to buy because Iím finding it significantly less entertaining than the cover would have led me to believe. Back at home in the afternoon, I make up for yesterdayís skipped work time and settle down in front of my computer.

Itís late in the afternoon when thereís a knock on my front door. From the window, I can see that a guy I donít know is standing outside; sporting a grungy backwards baseball cap, he's clearly not a Bible thumper preaching house-to-house, so I open my door. As it turns out, heís a friend of my neighborís, letting me know that my neighborís house was burglarized the night before, and wondering if I might have heard anything. I vaguely recall having heard voices outside just after midnight, but at the time, assumed it was just a party a few houses down. Freaky.

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