I have watched at least four hours of Parental Control today and I have come to the conclusion that my mother MUST be the one who writes the "witty" couch banter between the parents and their child's neglected mate left behind during the dates.

"OH MAN, did you hear that?! She's talking about his balls!"
"Yeah, I'll show you MY balls."

Okay, so Mom doesn't say that, but if she had balls, she would. Right over her head.

I'm going on my 46th hour of not leaving my apartment. Not my apartment building - my actual apartment. Here's a synopsis of my weekend:

• Sleep: 25 hours (so far)
• Hours spent in anything other than my pajamas: none
• Number of useful tasks I have accomplished: none
• Favorite real life moment: the cat puking in his water bowl
• Favorite TV moment: the Hogans trying to figure out what "kosher" means
• Favorite computer moment: Flag Makeover. So much in love.
• Culinary creation: olives wrapped in shaved roast beef
• Low point: Darren offering to let me give him head while he watched the hockey game. Romance, people.
• High point: laughing at him
• Book I can't put down: Back When We Were Grownups
• Song of the weekend: The Pick of Desinty. Thanks, MTV.

And here I thought I did nothing all weekend. Pfft.

As a side note, if I had a gun, I would honest to goodness shoot the terrors running in the hallway. And I would enjoy it. A lot.