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"Here are 5 things I&amp;#x27;ve been meaning to tell you, as written on a napkin covered in ink, coffee stains and some adorable guy&amp;#x27;s email address: 1.&amp;amp;nbsp; To answer my compelling question (great meal, great massage or great sex?), at this exact moment in time, Sunday noon-ish, I&amp;#x27;d take the grub. Brunch is my guilty pleasure -- burgers, bloody maries, sweet potatoe fries, oh my. Obviously&amp;amp;nbsp; I&amp;#x27;m too embarrassed to say what I really want.&amp;amp;nbsp; Hint: Not the meal and not the massage. Oh how this blog would transform if my grandmother never learned to &amp;amp;quot;sign on.&amp;amp;quot; 2.&amp;amp;nbsp; To those readers who called me rude for standing beach boy up...you&amp;#x27;re right!&amp;amp;nbsp; It was a low move, but I&amp;#x27;m convinced it was the best option considering the circumstances. Before I beat myself up too much, let&amp;#x27;s see what this week brings.&amp;amp;nbsp; Hopefully I&amp;#x27;ll get a chance to explain myself.&amp;amp;nbsp; Hopefully he&amp;#x27;ll understand how I agonized.&amp;amp;nbsp; I mean, I&amp;#x27;ll have him read the blog if need be (always a last resort!!). 3.&amp;amp;nbsp; Had my yearly doctor&amp;#x27;s appointment on Friday.&amp;amp;nbsp; Perfect health, knock on wood.&amp;amp;nbsp; ALTHOUGH, I gained 3 pounds.&amp;amp;nbsp; I don&amp;#x27;t really care.&amp;amp;nbsp; But I kind of wanted to cry.&amp;amp;nbsp; &amp;amp;nbsp;Maybe it&amp;#x27;s muscle?&amp;amp;nbsp; &amp;amp;nbsp;I&amp;#x27;m not going to stress over numbers. Fine, it really sucks.&amp;amp;nbsp; Scales are the enemy -- even if you&amp;#x27;re pretty much okay with your body.&amp;amp;nbsp; Back me up here, girls. 4.&amp;amp;nbsp; Spent my first weekend at the parent&amp;#x27;s new place in D-U-M-B-O. The apartment is awesome.&amp;amp;nbsp; I&amp;#x27;m so happy for them.&amp;amp;nbsp; I keep telling my mom that the loft has a rock-n-roll vibe... makes me want to puff on a hookah...and write dark, demonized poetry.&amp;amp;nbsp; Instead, I warmed up leftovers, googled ex-boyfriends and finished &amp;amp;quot;Eat Pray Love.&amp;amp;quot;&amp;amp;nbsp; Oh well, I am who I am. 5. I also caught up on 40 hours of TV.&amp;amp;nbsp; The Hamptons house doesn&amp;#x27;t have cable, so I&amp;#x27;ve missed the entire season of Sopranos, Entourage and my favorite, Weeds. It&amp;#x27;s ridiculous how much pleasure I derive from &amp;amp;quot;On Demand.&amp;amp;quot;&amp;amp;nbsp; Tonight is the season&amp;#x27;s finale of Sopranos -- we&amp;#x27;re eating Italian and watching the tube in my parents bed.&amp;amp;nbsp; Even at 27 and 29, Rachel and I prefer family bonding to Bond Street. Okay, I swore off Paris Hilton banter after my encounter with her in Vegas (when the entire world hated me for, um, not hating her). But I just can&amp;#x27;t help myself.&amp;amp;nbsp; You must have some strong opinions about her in-and-out of jail scandal, and I&amp;#x27;m dying to know where you stand. Do you feel bad for her? Any empathy at all?&amp;amp;nbsp; Or, is the Daddy&amp;#x27;s Girl getting what she deserves?&amp;amp;nbsp;"^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/blogs/man-needs-date/2007/06/monday-musings>