Two swanky-looking juice glasses sit upturned on a folded paper towel in the restroom marked with an Employees Only sign. The glasses have inspired a great deal of speculation between the office manager and me. We don’t know how they got there, but only that they were not there Friday afternoon and were there Monday morning. Our suspicion falls on the boss and what she might have been doing here over the weekend and with whom.

I myself had a good weekend. No intrigue or trysts in office buildings, but still pretty good. I met a friend for shopping on Saturday. We sat for lunch in the busy food court and she told me how difficult her not yet two years of marriage have been. She warned me not to rush into a marriage.

I spent the rest of the weekend with another friend. We met her boyfriend and Stone for dinner on Saturday night. I continue to struggle for whatever it is I feel for Stone. He seems so vulnerable and childlike in so many ways and I just can’t seem to catch a spark off of that. I need a little grit, a little toughness. I can’t help hoping for a grand opportunity in New Mexico so I don’t have to hurt him.

On Sunday, we had a girls’ day. We had a lazy breakfast and shopped and went to see Cold Mountain. I cried in my popcorn about four times. We fed our tearstained faces some Mexican food and then went home to watch 13—a disturbing tale about a couple of 13-year-olds gone wild.

I took Monday off. I stopped at my parents’ house on my way home. I managed to get into arguments with my stepdad about John Kerry and Ralph Nadar and gay marriage. I love that.

Well, I have a bunch of work to do.

Love to all.