Well well well.

We meet again, o Blog.
It is nearly 6 a.m. (at the beginning of this writing). I have been putting off blogging all night/morning, using Facebook, MySpace, and Questionable Content. I also made a list of bands I need to add to my list. Erlack.
What a crazy night. Not even crazy. Just: WHERE DID IT GO?!?!?!

My roommate donated plasma for the second time this week. She then walked to the mall to meet my mom - who was in town visiting - and me, in the bitter cold. We hung out for a bit in Best Buy (this consisted of me being an indie-snob and having to be physically forced to not smash every Fergie CD in the place while bitching about which albums I had on vinyl and which I'd purchased for less than five dollars as opposed to Best Buy's asking price of WAY TOOO FUCKING MUCH) before she collapsed, with no colour in her face. My mom went for the car, we found an employee to get her some water, and eventually we hit IHOP. (It should be noted that they no longer "except" checks. What is the world coming to that such signs get posted?) Pumpkin pancakes, eggs over-easy, and hash browns later, my mom and my much-perkier roommate and I returned to le dorm.

10:30 p.m. I decide it's naptime. During said nap I have a dream involving my mouth and the nether regions of one of my exes. After I wake up, I read some QC for awhile. Gradually, everyone else in the room falls asleep. It's getting later now, approaching 2:30 and such. My "other roommate", a good friend from upstairs, comes to visit and chat about his party escapades of the night/how everybody is probably at least bicurious/things we have to do in the morning. He leaves. I'm IMing a few friends; I get propositioned twice and have to deflect two attempts to hook me up with friends-of-friends. Eventually I give up and crawl into bed, but the rather erotic dream from earlier keeps disturbing me. So I call said ex in an attempt to talk to him about it and perhaps resolve whatever issue it represents. As per usual, he is unhelpful and barely responsive (though, to his credit, it's now well past four). My mother, laying awake on the couch, hears the full details of the dream as relayed to the owner of the penis in it. Great. As I'm drifting off, she notes that there's a huge storm coming in and that she'd better get home; can I help her take stuff down to the car? Sure, Mom. No problem. I was FINALLY getting to sleep, but sure, I'll get out of bed and stuff. It's not like girls who accidentally dream about blowjobs deserve sleep.

Since then, I've been reading QC and unable to sleep. Also, brainstorming more obscure bands to add to the gigantic list at http://www.freewebs.com/sebhar/music.htm . And, last but not least, wishing my significant other would get online and somehow offer comfort through IM. However, as he has somewhere to be at 7:20, I can hardly lament the fact that he's asleep.

Now: the night has been blogged. The band list is in need of expansion. I have Diet Coke and I'm not afraid to use it. All-nighter and ensuing headache, here I come.