Can't Sleep

So instead of doing something productive like reading Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse-Five" or dreaming up a better question for tomorrow's "discussion" of Beowulf, I'm sitting here, blogging away.

That, and wasting epic amounts of time on mySpace. I found a kid who used to live across the street from me when I lived in California. Turns out he's into women and marijuana. And he used to be so . . . nice.

I had a conversation with my roommate the other day. She and her fiance took a couple of their friends to quite possibly the most over-priced restaurant in Butte. (Apparently the food is also really good) Anyway, she told me all I had to do was find myself a rich boyfriend to take me there, since it is kind of a romantic, Italian-type place. While I'm amused at what she considers "good enough" for me (as long as he's rich enough to take me to Spaghettini's, and nice enough to take a girl out to eat), I told her it wasn't going to happen. Not in Butte, and not this year. She has her doubts.

I, on the other hand, am perfectly content with taking myself out to eat (the Acoma has great cocktails and filet mignon). While I would rather have a delightful dinner companion, my experience with those have been insanely disappointing. It's enough for a girl to swear off men forever, and either date girls exclusively (which isn't going to happen) or jump into the Berkeley Pit (which also isn't going to happen).

And this is why I'm happier alone.