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other recent LOUNGE articles:
o Office Space: Color Shemes
o Open House: Sydney Sanctuary
o Burn Baby Burn
Green Scene: Indoor Herb Gardening
Album-cover CD Box
A Room of My Own
Fight the Chaos
Gallery-style Picture Hanging Tracks
o After School
Sew What?
o Curtain Time
Lazy Decorator's Bag of Tricks

copyright ©1999-2002

home alone seven days of the solo life 
by Yee-Fan Sun
| 1 2 3 4
continued from page 2

Iíve just enjoyed a dinner of grilled chicken and homemade potato salad Ė thank god I finally learned to use our grill -- and have indulged in the first two very funny episodes of Sex and the City, when the phone rings. Again, itís B Ė which means another night of Buffy. This is good thing. Thereís no such thing as too much Buffy.

When B leaves that night Iím suddenly conscious of the fact that Iím very much alone in the house, and itís quiet, and dark. My little house suddenly seems very big, and full of secret nooks and shadowy corners hiding who knows what. The robbery next door has me feeling just a bit paranoid, and so I triple check all the locks and deadbolts, leave the front light on outside, pull the shades shut just a little more securely, turn on the TV to keep me from obsessing over all the little odd sounds that sometimes creep in from outdoors. Just before getting into bed, I think to grab the cordless phone, and leave it within easy armís reach of where I sleep. I sleep poorly, every creak, rumble and scratch that night sending my imagination into a frenzy.

day 3
Lingering in bed on a Sunday morning isnít nearly as enjoyable when you donít have someone to share it with; I spend an hour or so re-reading one of my favorite books, Laurie Colwinís Happy All the Time, then get out of bed to take a shower. Sunday morning strikes me as the perfect time to sneak out for a matinee, but alas, the movie offerings look slim, and the only movies Iím really dying to see are movies I know my sweetie wants to check out as well. Which is how I find myself sitting in a dark room full of women of all ages, shapes and sizes, waiting for the Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood to start up. The movieís every bit as mediocre as I expect Ė not a chance of crying on my part, though I hear a fair number of sniffles in the dark Ė but I always get such a minor kick out of being the only girl sitting in the theatre without friends or significant other that it doesnít really matter whatís on the screen.

day 4
Itís back to work on Monday, though I take a nice long break to meet my friend C for lunch. Between Cís crazy single-girl life and our usual all-over-the-place discussions on everything from politics to relationships to books, itís some good girl-bonding time.

Later that day: Itís official -- I have a new TV show addiction. Back at the video store, I make a beeline for the first season 2 Sex and the City DVD. Go home, fix myself up a quick but tasty meal of fettucine with smoked salmon. Truthfully, Sarah Jessica Parkerís Carrie Bradshaw, and really her three friends as well, drive me nuts: I canít help but think that they make relationships a whole lot more complicated than they have to be. But itís sort of like watching a train wreck: Iím totally riveted. Plus, the show makes me laugh.

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