At the show at the High Dive Saturday night (so fun!), one of the rock star types accidentally, I presume, elbowed me in the boob as I squeaked by him to get to the bathroom. In my opinion, an elbow to the boob indicates true love. It's meant to be. He is my one and only. Although, it would have been nicer had he said sorry or something. I think he was too wrapped up in conversation with a couple of girls to really notice, and I was in too big of a hurry to pee to really care. I foresee problems in our future.

I am punchy after only a few hours of sleep last night. A friend of mine went away on an overnight adventure with his girlfriend, and I unwisely agreed to watch his two dogs. This required me to stay at his place way the heck out in suburbia, which was already traumatic. Add a bunch of sleep interruptions, and my head is in a whole other place. The dogs slept better than I did. Combine not being able to fall asleep until about 2am, due to Sunday night insomnia and being in a strange place, with the startling sounds of dogs in dreamland (muffled growling, yelping, and simulated running on the carpet) waking you just as you're about to drift off, with no real curtains on the bedroom window, which made it light as day at 5am, with the dogs deciding that 5:30am is the perfect time to get up, with dogs staring at you and licking you until you, in zombie-like state, drag yourself out of bed to let them out and feed them, with not being able to go back to sleep due to stuffy nose, itchy eye (allergy to dogs AND suburbs) and blinding light, with dogs whining insistently outside bedroom door after you shut them out to have some peace for the remaining 45 minutes before you need to get up. Add it up and you've got about four hours of sleep. I love my friend, and his dogs are sweet, but next time I think I'm just going to have to say no to the madness. Or tranquilize the dogs.