Sometimes I have insomnia. Tonight is one of those nights. I had it awful last week, too. I don't think I slept more than 8 hours the entire week.

A few nights ago, I hooked up with someone. After it was over, I wanted to sleep. Maybe that was the entire purpose for hooking up, to knock myself out.

I bet that's an admission people won't read often.

There was no lazy post-coital chatter. At 3 or 4 am, it appeared to be the beginning of the evening. Do I want to hear all the remixes he's downloaded? Uh, sure. Colors spiral across the monitor; knick-knacks hop to the beat on the shelves.

"Have you heard this one? This is my favorite. When it comes on there's no one can touch me on the floor. Oh, except for this one. This one's my favorite right now."

"Can't your neighbors hear this?"

"Aw, it don't matter. He's crazy and she's a bitch."

Well alrighty then.

He watches my face with each new track. One of his knick-knacks, a lava lamp with floating glitter, is buzzing slowly to an edge of the shelf. That one's cool, I say. Listen to this one, you'll like this one, he says.

He was born the year I was a sophomore -- in college. Or the year I was listening to Oingo Boingo and Squeeze and Split Enz. The year Frankie Goes To Hollywood came out with "Relax" and everyone wore oversized tees with neon lettering "Go Go". I listened to all the latest remixes by Christina W, Freekbeetz, and a bunch of DJs. DJ Hector? And Leann Rimes -- who knew little Leann could get so hot in the clubs? That's remixing for you.

And I got no sleep.