I've been really into pajamas lately. As in, my general satisfaction is directly correlated to the amount of time I spend wearing my little chemises. Thus, I spent the entirety of the weekend, when I wasn't working, locked in my apartment, wearing the light little dresses that are just barely not suitable for the general public, windows flung open, alternatively baking whole wheat apricot scones (with sour cream instead of half and half) and watching episode after episode of Lost, making Violet Crumbles (with maple syrup instead of honey) and reading silly, overwritten memoirs, organizing my pantry and labeling the six, six! types of flour, all just waiting to be turned into something delicious, and, in general, celebrating the lack of general public in my specific vicinity.