Shibibble Flazzle.

It's 2am, and I am chillin' in the basement with Chad. Well, I am online looking at stuff: jobs in Colorado, emails, and friends' profiles on myspace. Sophie was in here earlier meowing and wanting attention. It smells like fresh laundry, or dryer sheets, because the laundry room is down here and coffee because I am still in my work clothes. I just drank a half coffee cup of flat Mountain Dew (not Diet, cause Chad would kick my butt if I even touched his Diet Mountain Dew bottles.) and I am listening to him clicking on things on his computer screen and the soundcard causing beeps to flow out of the speakers. ( I don't care if that was the correct explanation. Work with me.) He is listening to some geekery radio show that makes me laugh. A plethora of empty 2-litre pop bottles parades out of the wire trash can, and looking at it, I laugh to myself. He and I both are stupid addicted to caffeine. I think of Christy and how adorable she looked tonight, walking around half asleep and ready for bed. I want to go to bed, but I know if I did, I would just lay there awake for two hours. And giving up in exasperation, I would just end up reading one of my psychobabble books about being the child of an alcoholic. Those seem to put me to sleep. Some of what the books say are good, but I just don't feel like reading anything like that tonight. I wonder what I am going to wear to "The Intranational Day of Pretense" celebration here on Saturday night. Any pretentious suggestions??