Saturdays.

I love Saturdays, especially rainy ones like this. I've spent the entire day doing the following:
-buying cookie-baking supplies,
-not baking said cookies,
-watching The Office Season 4 DVD extras,
-while having 50 First Dates on mute in the background,
-wearing a t-shirt that has a picture of Superman on it that has Ladies Man written beside him,
-reading Mindy Kaling's blog ,
-indulging in the perfect Sunday Morning Fantasy (see Oct. 2007 of aforementioned blog).

Should my hair be brown? I think it should. At least for a while. We'll see how that goes.

I'm going to take some great pictures of my apartment soon, once I start treating every room in here like my bedroom. Ironically enough, I have used every room in this apartment as my bedroom except the kitchen and my actual bedroom. Literally. I've slept on the bathroom floor, dining room floor, and in the living room on the couch since I moved in. Long story (actually, not really - my wonderful moving friends had to take apart my bedframe to get it in, and I didn't want to make them put it back together thinking I could do it myself but I seem incapable of using any kind of tool [that's what she said?]), but there you go. I moved almost a month ago, and I still haven't unpacked a few boxes and suitcases. On my dining room table right now is a skirt, a belt, a gum wrapper, 3 notebooks from the past 7 years, a box of garbage bags, and an empty shoebox that I can't seem to throw out. I think shoeboxes are the kind of thing you can't throw out because you think that, someday, you WILL use them for something, storage or sending a wicked package to someone, and you never know when you'll get the chance to buy another pair of shoes and get another sweet free box. Maybe your brain doesn't work that way, but mine does. Some of the other shoebox-related ideas I've had over the years are:
shoebox window planters for herbs (before I remembered that they're made out of cardboard).
shoeboxes as the perfect catch-all for the crap beside your bed that you're too tired to put away properly at the end of the night (nothing scandalous, just notebooks or regular-type books or remote controls).
shoeboxes as a classier-looking garbage can in any room, for when you don't actually want to walk all the way to a garbage can.

This list could go on forever, of course. But I'll stop, for your sake as well as for my multitasking brain. I think I'm over stimulated.