Let's get this show on the road.

With no further ado.

S and I went to the club tonight. I was looking forward to it greatly, because R was DJing all night. He's a fine DJ and refrains from punishing the crowd with the kinds of novelty songs that make my fillings hurt. He even played "Windowpane" and I got out there and did what, for me, must pass as dancing. However, later I was latched onto by a guy and couldn't shake him off. He is probably a very nice person, but (a) I'm in a committed LTR ::waves to S:: and (b) I don't need any more friends and acquaintances, especially very nice people with relentlessly vanilla tastes. A good boyfriend would have rescued me, since I'm too gormless to rescue myself. I'm a bit freaked out by this because it's been a long time since I, at my advanced age and dignity, have been hit on. ::shudders at flashbacks of the late 80's::

I'll leave out the part where I got a little pissy and the part where my contact lens wandered up under my eyelid.

Tonight I am the poster child for chronic insomnia. Got up at 5 p.m. Thursday and now I have to stay up until at least 5 p.m. Friday. It's 2:30 a.m. now; 15 or so hours to go. Living out here in suburbia, there is not a hell of a lot to do in the dying hours. No 24-hour bookstores. A few restaurants such as Denny's and Shari's specializing in yellow/orange/brown foods. This is the only time I envy people in NYC. Why can't I get yellow curry Thai fried rice at 3 a.m.? Instead I'll end up with Moons Over My Hammy and lemon meringue pie.

My life is a ceaseless hell of torment.

I guess I can always sleep when I'm dead.

Ye gods and little fishes, I'm tired. I'm going to sleep sometime in the next hour, and woe betide he who waketh me before 3 a.m. I learned a life lesson: If God had wanted us to eat chicken parmesan pasta for breakfast at 4 a.m., He wouldn't have invented waffles. On the plus side, pie is just as tasty for breakfast as it is at any other time of day.

So next time 4 a.m. rolls around, I get to put K & C on a plane to Nyarlins. I've warned them about the snakes, and now it's out of my hands. I will miss them dreadfully, but happily, they're leaving me the keys to their fabulous urban apartment. Sadly, it comes with cats and over-zealous meter maids.