Day 43

My job is kicking my a*s right now, in a biga*s way. Usually, in the middle of being crazy stressed, I would log onto FB/Satan for a hot second just to find a funny status update to laugh at or a sobering one to make me feel better about my life because somebody out there is probably having a truly bad day. My version of a bad day could include a dilemma such as: the dress they want our ingenue to wear won't have all the sequins sewed on in time for the photo shoot.

Yep.

Now cue the screaming/singing/crying/dancing of a full-blown Broadway Emergency and you'll understand why I need those FB-nuggets to get through the day/shoot/suicidal reverie. Since I can't do that I've been relying on the following to release the pressure on my brain and I wanted to share them with you:

http://www.disapprovingrabbits.com/
- name says it all

http://www.lamebook.com/
- oh I LOVE this (and it's not cheating!) hint: always click "read the rest of this entry" for x-tra funny sh*t

http://icanhascheezburger.com/
- classic

http://failblog.org/
- I liked this site more when there were less videos on it, but it's still pretty killer

http://www.bklynbunny.com/
- a BUNNY CAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

http://textsfromlastnight.com/
- this is genius and makes me long for college

http://chatroulettetrolling.com/
- this whole chatroulette phenomenon is fascinating...

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/all/
- some are eh some are effing fantastic
this one is probably my most favoritest of ALL TIME
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/cae/1167023602.html

Enjoy.

Now that I'm in less of a funk, I'm gonna go put my head in a bottle of wine to see if I can't keep the wheels on this good-feelings train rolling full speed ahead. Cheers.

Day 42

Much like the red wine I just spilled on my white shirt must feel: I'm not sure why I'm here.

As this social experiment winds down, I'm trying to figure out what will become of us...I've grown fond of all 32 of you unique visitors that spend an average of 2 minutes and 15 seconds on this page each visit (thanks Google Analytics!) Mad love to my 2 subscribers, 1 of which is me. What will we do after Easter? I mean after we find all the eggs the Easter Bunny hid in the yard and eat an entire dozen of the Necco chocolate/marshmallow kind because our moms are back in Florida now and can't stop us? Did we learn stuff and if so will we take any of it away?

After all, knowledge is power. If anything, I want you to leave with this.

Day 41 (less than a week to go!!)

I've been very busy and important these last couple of days. Foremost, I want to tell you about my not-so-great date. Remember when I decided to try and branch out socially by joining match.com?

Yeah.

So technically my 1st date made using the site never happened because 2 days before our supposed brunch, his mom had a fatal heart attack and even though we had never met in person he wanted to talk about it and kept calling with updates about what he was going through (taking her off life support, planning the wake, etc). I'm not a mean-spirited person, if anything I'm super effing sweet and care too much for my own good about the people I let into my heart. He wasn't in my heart yet though, he wasn't even in my phone w/ a last name because I didn't know it...I'm sorry but I just couldn't even try to know the right things to say in that situation. It's sad, I know, and I had to just wish him the best because I couldn't give that to him. Match FAIL.

My 2nd date via the service happened this past Saturday. Although less traumatic, it wasn't a "match" either. Dudes, listen up, no matter how funny and smart you are or how much fun we have playing pool and eating pizza the following is not sexy. EVER:

- Letting me pay for my own beer. If it's the first date, man up.

- Not opening doors or pulling out chairs. I'm not high maintenance, on the contrary I'm supremely easygoing. But I repeat- if it's the first date, MAN UP. You don't lose anything by being courteous, if anything you might get more...

- Admitting to and happening to be devoid of any qualms about not being a grown-up when you're definitely old enough to know better. Whatever. Sure, I think it's cute that you use a Simpsons reference to illustrate a story about your life, but I don't think it's awesome that you're 31 and your mom is still paying your bills.

- Getting drunker while I switch to water, then putting your arm around me and your hand on my hip. We just met, and I'm not losing-my-inhibitions-drunk like you are, stop holding me like I'm going to get away because I'm going to anyway. I know Kung Fu, motherf*cker.

- If we've been hanging out for 4.5 hours and I say I'm ready to go home, I'm not kidding. Buh-bye, and also by now it's bound to be EFFING LATE. A well know fact is that if I don't cross the border into Astoria by 1AM I transform into a pumpkin. Not even a cute pumpkin either, I turn into one that's all flat and weird and bumpy on one side, it's not pretty so just let me go without pouting.

That's all, it wasn't like he was mean or we had a totally abysmal time, the experience was just missing some of the simpler things in life I require. I don't need to be taken care of, but I do need to be cared for. Here's the deal: I'll laugh at your sometimes-stupid jokes, if you'll just remember to help me put on my coat.

Day 38

Via text and email I was able to do the unthinkable: assist-contact enough people to constitute a legitimate dinner party. FB friends, there are alternate ways to Create an Event!

While at this social gathering hosted by my gracious friends, the topic of neighbors came up. There were stories of the weird guy from downstairs that seems more like he wants to get invited to the party than complain about how loud it is when he knocks late at night, the crazy lesbians with a treadmill and cookie-baking home business upstairs, and the guy next door with the lady friend who likes to loudly fake her O-face (you know what I'm talking about). I've only ever lived in 5 homes in my lifetime and I must have been lucky because I didn't have any horror stories to share:

- In my childhood apartment, our various neighbors were my friendly babysitters and I loved them all. They were old people who gave me popsicles and took me swimming when my mom had to work, it was bliss. (Sarasota, Florida)

-In my 2nd home, the lady next door smuggled me cigarettes as a teenager and the guy across the street had cute grandsons I got to play and grow up with. The hippy down the block even gave me my first kitten, and he never cared if I came to hang out in his garage with his other cats while he smoked what I didn't know at the time was pot. (Sarasota, Florida)

- My third home was a college apartment complex, but I was never there so I made friends and drank beer with the neighbors at my boyfriend's apartment. We traded stories about classes and asses, there was no reason to leave for another party because a better one was always happening at "1186 in the bricks." (Orlando, Florida)

- Number four was a house I moved to my 3rd year of college and it had an awesome back porch. Those were the days (sigh/tear), of the epic BPPs (Back Porch Parties), when we all talked until the sun came up because everything we said there was important. I was cool with the Mexican neighbors next door, but as soon as I graduated and moved out they reported my remaining roommate and his brother for growing pot out on the awesome back porch. (Orlando, Florida)

- Home five is where I live currently, first two years in a 1 bedroom in the basement and later/now on the 2nd floor in a smaller but sunnier 1 bedroom of the same building. (Astoria, New York)

This brings me to my neighbors here. I can't complain about them at all, and actually I want to brag about them. The patriarch of the family downstairs acts as a Super, so he takes care of the building and is always around to flip the breaker when my simultaneous space-heating, micro-waving, George Foreman-ing, and hair-drying cause an actual blowout. They also have a daughter who practices the clarinet. This started out being cute when I would first hear her stumbling over notes as she learned Away in a Manger, and now is heart-breakingly beautiful because she's graduating to sonatas. The girl that moved into the basement is super cool and gives me my mail when it gets put in her box by mistake. The 2 brothers I share a wall with are the best ever. They carry up my packages and groceries, watch my bunwah if I'm traveling, and have also brought me tea or movies when I'm sick. The secret thing I love most about them though...is when they play music. Sometimes when I go to bed at the right time, I can fall asleep while one of them strums his guitar on the other side of my bedroom wall. He doesn't know that he's playing me into dreams, but it still feels like my very own lullaby.

Now that I think of it, I've somehow manged to make most of my neighbors into my family. Maybe in reality things about my neighbors were/are annoying - but love blinds all that.

Love your neighbor. (this one's for Jesus)

xo

Day 37

Tonight while I was walking back to my office to change out of my dress and get back into jeans after a work-related party, a random guy who was "only in town for one night" started talking to me as we walked down the sidewalk in the same direction. He asked me where the closest bar was, if I knew any good night clubs, and if I liked sushi. He wasn't threatening, and seemed to be nice (yeah I know, I'm sure Jeffrey Dahmer did too before he took your head off and put it in the refrigerator), but aside from being Not My Type+ I just didn't know how to react being approached that way. These days when someone shows interest in me, I can stalk their FB page, scroll through their match.com photos a few times, and Google the hell out of them. Since I didn't have of any of this context, I just brushed him off and wished him luck on his big night in the city.

I'm pretty sure I didn't lose the love of my life tonight, but it did get me thinking that courtship has changed. I do want to get to know potential gentlemen suitors, but I'd much rather perform some thorough research on my own time and at my leisure. It's definitely more fun to find stuff out about a guy on the fly (OMG remember DATING?!) but this is a big city full of freaky-deaky dudes, so sometimes it's better to meet after you've checked for their name in the U.S. sex offender registry. I know, totally romantic. Still single...but also, still alive! (sigh)

+clean-shaven, articulate, not a bartender

Day 36

The funny part about all this is that I'm fine. I'm not twitching anymore, my social life didn't come to a screeching halt, and the world didn't end. Or maybe it did, I just don't know yet because I can't verify current events by checking status updates.

Now that I've broken my obsessive FB habits, I'm left to wonder will they come back with a vengeance on Easter or will I be more apt to Leave It Alone? As a borderline obsessive compulsive person with Aspberger-like tendencies+, I've trained myself to live a somewhat normal life by repeatedly thinking or saying out loud my personal mantra:

Leave It Alone.

I do this daily. Sometimes hourly. When I'm dwelling on a project at work so much that I play out possible scenarios in my head countless times Groundhog Day-esquely as I lay in bed, or as I'm re-reading an important email over 20 times before hitting "send" I have to do the equivalent of slapping myself across the face and say firmly "Leave It Alone." And then I do. Usually. Sometimes when I'm supposed to Leave Alone a particular boy I really shouldn't be texing, or struggling to Leave Alone a situation that I think I f*cked up and keep trying to fix, I fail.

It's been surprising to me that I have been able to stay off FB this long. Maybe it's because I know I'll eventually be able to go back on it...or maybe it's because I was just fine before Mark Zuckerberg made the damn thing anyway. Before it's creation there were way less Leave It Alones in my life.

+I'm not diagnosed or medicated for any of this but they are undoubtedly part of my personality. Virgo, shmirgo, I'm borderline.

Day 35, eff accuracy

Good times w/ my parents this weekend, lots of iPhone pics (formerly known as mobile uploads) that I wish I could have shared along the way. Alas...well you know.

This one is of Disney World, I mean Central Park on Saturday. I've never ever ever seen it this packed before. 70 degrees and not a free spot on the grass to be found. I thought the last remaining bit of melting snow in this shot created pretty funny dichotomy:


Aside from our park visit, we saw 3 Broadway shows, went to MoMA, St. Patrick's Cathedral, the NY Public Library and took a Stage Door tour at Radio City Music Hall. We ate at Chevys, Carmine's, 5 Guys, Junior's and Virgil's.

Last night I slept for 11 hours. They ran me ragged.

My parents were traveling with a friend of theirs who hadn't been to NYC in over 20 years, so his zest to do (literally) everything possible contributed to this manic schedule. He's a sweet guy with alot of enthusiasm for everything, but I have to admit that since I suck at lying or pretending, I got sick of his amazement with it all because I just can't play along. Sure, Times Square is awesome, and I NEVER GO THERE because the crowded sidewalks make me want to throw myself in front of a Gray Line bus. I didn't want to be rude, because after all my momma raised me right. She was also right there, and if I had been rude I would have gotten smacked upside the head. It was almost like listening to him sing the praises of a less-than-perfect boyfriend though...stay with me: in the respect that although I love it, I also dislike some things about NYC because I know it differently and more intimately. He won't be able to understand why I feel the way I do, because he doesn't possess my experiences.

I had to stop myself countless times from rolling my eyes to avoid cheapening his enjoyment of it all, but for me'n'NYC, the honeymoon is definitely ova. Don't get me wrong- there's lots of wonderful things about this city and yes, it's simply magical at times, but there are also aspects that annoy the sh*t out of me. For example:

-->Have you ever tried to go bowling in NYC? Not only is it as expensive as going to a fancy club and sometimes requires a dress-code, but it's almost impossible to get a lane on the fly. F*ck me if I'm wrong, but I don't think a leisure activity should be a source of planning and stress.

-->I think it's less than cute that I have to choose between OJ or milk when I'm grocery shopping, because if I tried to carry both on the long walk home my arms would fall off.

-->Non-existence of non-gross public restrooms.

-->Hundreds of people have the same "great" ideas at the same time, so there's a 2 hour wait to get a seat at Blockhead's (or anywhere else with cool outdoor seating for that matter) on the first balmy days of post-winter weather.

-->Laundry is an all-evening event.

-->General as*holery and lack of politeness. It's like everyone feels less responsible for their behavior because there's a good chance that right behind them is a bigger as*hole that's going to bump into you even harder than they just did.

-->Douche-bag tourists take over the city on every major holiday and make it impossible to go out to your favorite spots without encountering a mob scene. This year on St. Patrick's day, I dodged all the green idiots and went straight home to drink my Guinness in relative peace at home.

I'm sure that's enough to paint the picture. Anyway, for the sake of my parents' friend I just did my best to smile and nod though as he marveled at the beauty of my neon crazy life.

Ya know, less-than-perfect can still make me hot though, there's always this:


(yep, I went again...)

Day 34, I mean Day 29

Oops.

Apparently, I don't know sh*t about liturgical calendars. Sundays in Lent don't count towards the 40, so this is really 46 days without Facebook:

Day 31

My new Favorite Thing today (click for enlarged):


Postscript. My parents are in town this weekend and we've got an epic list of shenanigans to partake in, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to update next. I'll miss you more than you'll miss me. xoxo

Day 30

Gotta find my puuuuuur-pose! Gotta find me. (can you tell I've been dipping into cast recordings again?) Back to this thing about no FB:

I am in deep digital love with my iPhone, which may sound dirty but just means I likes it alot. Contrary to our love I've been less glued to it since the Lenten Facebreak, because much of that use was admittedly due to documentation of my life via FB. So riding in to work today on my subway train, I'm reading this article in Time magazine (OMG remember PRINT?!) about radiation in cell phones causing brain cancer, and it made me think that using it less is probably a good thing. Then I started considering that I hardly ever hold my iPhone next to my head anyway. Even when I do actually make an iPhone-call, I usually put my mic'd earbuds in because I'm a gal-on-the-go and prefer to have my hands free to punch bums or rummage through my purse for a valid Starbucks gift card. This led to thinking about where I actually do hold my iPhone. When I'm not using GPS to find my way home or playing Simon, my shiny brick lives in my back pocket. This whole thought process has taken me almost all the way to Times Square (my stop) and convinced me I'm going to someday have ass cancer.

I immediately moved my iPhone from my back pocket and far away from my ass, perching it on my knee so I could glare at it accusingly for the rest of the subway ride. When I surfaced at 40th Street and got a signal again, I forgave it because it doesn't know any better (I'm going to be a great parent) and used it to Google how often cell phones emit radiation. Since I believe everything I read on the internets, the answer is all the time, not just when you're using it. So actually, by not FBing and keeping it in my back pocket more often, I've been increasing my chances of ass cancer. Awesome, thank you Jesus.

Hope you had a good day too.

Day 29

My new Favorite Thing today is this shirt.

Day 28

Tonight I'm listening to the Rock of Ages cast recording and dance-folding socks, it is pret-ty sweet. If you don't agree, it's because your taste in stuff sucks.

I've manged to turn just about any household task into an act than can be preceded by "dance-" and performed while gyrating in a classy way. My repertoire includes:

dance-bedmaking
dance-cooking
dance-dishwashing
dance-scrubbing
dance-Swiffering
dance-mopping (Bonus! mop is like a partner. This is more for ballroom style than droppin' it like it's hot though, which is much easier during...)
dance-dusting

All of this looks just as cool as it sounds, because I am an excellent dancer. Ask anyone, it's like a known fact. I'm surprised it hasn't appeared yet on Wikipedia (maybe if they stopped taking my entries down it would...). I've been personally campaigning to bring back the cabbage patch and the lawn mower for years now, it's a personal quest. You know my motto: DREAM BIG! Oh, and to see me do the shopping cart is about as close as you might come to Nirvana without doing some serious medication, I mean meditation. Point, aside from the fact that I rule at dancing, is that these things are typically lame but by adding "dance-" they now ROCK. So take note dear ones, no matter how bullsh*t something is, you'll forget how much you hate it if you remember one thing - just dance.

Booyah! See what I did there?!

Disclaimer: In addition to bread and yogurt, my delicate tummy and I were also able to ingest chicken soup today. Maybe that's why I'm in such a good mood and writing like this post is for the soul. Whatever...you like it. Now shut up and dance.

Day 27 some more

But seriously, that could have been an honest mistake so you're forgiven. Sorry for the outburst. Not eating makes me hangry...

Day 27 again

And shame on any of y'all that thought I was talking about Precious before seeing the link to Ginormica. That's just rude, and Oprah called her a a true American Cinderella, so have some respect.

Day 27

This weekend I had some weird stomach bug that wasn't as serious as the flu, but also wasn't exactly a picnic. I've graduated since Saturday from only being able to keep down dry toast to eating a bagel w/ peanut butter and a yogurt over the course of today, so things are getting better all the time. A few weeks ago I was a different kind of sick that involved tears-level pain and prescription medications. I'm a classy lady, so I won't elaborate any further on either of these illnesses, but suffice to say, I'm sick of being sick.

Now, the only time I feel any acute pain related to more or less living alone (bunny is useless when it comes to paying rent or getting the mail), is when I'm sick. Or when I'm moving into a new apartment and need to dis- and re-assemble a futon, that sucks too. Anyway, when I'm sick I spend most of this time under a pile of blankets on said futon with a bottle of Aleve, surrounded by DVDs and empty cans of Ginger ale. I usually don't call people just to tell them that I don't feel good, cuz that's a downer and nobody likes downers. The self-indulgent FB status update about being sick is always useful though, because people have to want to know "what you're doing" so it's not really bothering them with the info, just giving them what they are asking for by logging on. Then you get to collect sympathy in the process, it's awesome. But I don't use FB right now.

Instead I was left to suffer in silence, and inexplicably pick movies that mirrored how I feel. This weekend I watched Precious, Monsters vs. Aliens, Up in the Air and The Wrestler. Notice anything? All. About. Loners, and all with mixed endings so I get to choose my own adventure from an Aleve-induced haze. Could be a life of loneliness in the clouds, or one of redemption on the streets of late 1980s New York...Obviously the best adventure was being a ginormous beyatch with crazy mega strength, cuz that way I could fight off super germs and put together my own damn futon.

The End.

Day 26

Sorry for the skipped days of posts. I've been sick and devoid of the energy to do much other than sleep. Will elaborate further on thoughts on this soon though... like the drawbacks to not being able to elicit sympathy through a FB status update about how pathetic I feel.

Type soon,
Mel B

Day 23

Had dinner tonight with a friend (yes, I still have them in the real world) and we started talking about things people can't live without. We focused especially on those things people were living just fine without before said things' creation. This got me thinking...about FB, obvi to make it relevant to my cause. But also about smart phones w/ email. Or even cell phones. Or email for that matter. Yeah, I went there, let's kick it old school! Remember when you f*cking WROTE letters?! If you don't, just get off my porch right now. I hate you kids these days with your loud Kei$ha music and your baseball caps with the stickers still on (plus you probably won't be able to relate).

Oh alright, fine. Settle in kiddies, let me tell you a story:

Back in the 80s, dinosaurs wrote their letters on actual paper and put them in the actual mail. Then the dinosaurs would play with rocks and sticks and Ataris until the dinosaur they wrote the letter to returned this favor. This went on and on. If the 'saurs wanted to communicate quicker, they picked up an actual phone, which was immobile because it was jacked into an actual wall. It may sound scary but life was groovy. Not only since they couldn't call to say they were running late, but because it was the effing polite thing to do, everysaur showed up places on time. Then they'd spend time together and discuss ALF or hyper color t-shirts, and there would be no calls or texts or tweets to interrupt. It's crazy, I KNOW!! And if one teenasaur started a rumor about another that sh*t would get stopped in it's tracks by a phone call from the victim's momasaur, not be spread willy-nilly via social networks in a matter of nanoseconds. Also, if a 'saur wanted to figure out how to spell "willy-nilly," they had to open up a dictionary, not just a new tab to Google it. Corey Haimasaur was still alive, and things were awesome.

Flash forward-->The USPS is about to cut Saturday mail service, which will totally eff up my g'ma's weekend routine (remember my g'ma?). Also people are not only late all the time, but when they do show up chances are they'll look at their smart phones more than at you, even though you're smart too. Adaptation to technology has caused us to evolve, what we live for and can't without now has changed.

RIP old school livin', and Corey Haim. Sadly, it seems neither will make a comeback.

Day 22

While killing the extra free time I seem to have during this period of social disconnect, I figured out my new Favorite Thing is movies at MoMA. I identify a new Favorite Thing at least once, sometimes up to twenty times a day and all are indelibly labeled "kickass" in the moment they are recognized. I'm like Oprah with ADD, and just making up for the fact that she skipped a year. Yesterday alone the roster included:

-Quizno's, that sh*t is toasty! OMFG remember the rathergood commercial?!!
-hard wax, which the stylist applied to my new haircut to make it all funkyfresh
-Bunnies in Space
-learning that each day has been shortened by 1.26 microseconds as a result of the earthquake in Chile, which shifted the earth's axis about 3 inches
-Justin Beiber
-Google Analytics
-chopping up pickles, which I discovered I can do in a pinch to make relish for my Hot Dog It's Tuesday Night! dinners
-blogging while surfing match.com and shot-gunning Coors Light

But back to MoMA...I was inspired to get a membership to the museum because of all the coolness going on there related to and including the Tim Burton exhibit. My membership awesomely entitles me to see films playing on MoMAs screens for free. In the past few days I've been there to see Sweeney Todd, Batman Returns and Big Fish. What can I say, I'm bananas for Burton and I frickin' LOVE movies. I own over 350 of them and in the last year I watched around 70 titles from Netflix. However, I only sat in a movie theater 4 times. I typically HATE going to theaters, because unlike home viewing that involves interaction with other people and having to wear pants. Also, the smell of popcorn gives me flashbacks to my early years spent in the employ of a cinema chain and the depressingly countless salty kernels I shoveled into paper bags. MoMA has softened me though, because they don't serve popcorn and I can feed my nostalgia for actual reels of film. During subsequent happier years of cinema employ, I instead spent hours above the concessions in a darkened booth. I would thread that sharp translucent stuff through creaky projectors, and in between sets listen to Coheed & Cambria on a cracked CD player while studying for finals. These days digital and 3-D shenanigans are taking over the industry, and the studios are finally getting their technology ducks in a row with the chains. Therefore, non-traditional theaters will soon be the only place to hear that film reel projector click-click-click that makes me feel so warm'n'fuzzy by recalling such sweeter, simpler times. So I will keep checking out movies at MoMA even after the Burton-fest is over, simply to bask in dusty scratchy f*cking wonderful reels of film. You know, because it's one of my Favorite Things.

Day 21

So...amidst this reflection on my FB-less life and shenanigans, I realized that I'm single. It doesn't really bother me, I usually can't even pretend to hate being or having to go places alone because I absolutely love it. I have however, watched Sex in the City, so I know I should be concerned about these things and therefore got a subscription to Match.com. I'm finding my singledom may not only be because I'm not good at sharing a comforter, but also because I happen to be completely devoid of game.

Match asked me to tell guys about myself in my own words. After discovering that "I'm kiiiinnd of a big deal, people know me" fell short of the required number of words for that section, I struggled to write something more lengthy that didn't make me sound too indifferent or too desperate. Basically communicating: "yeah, I want to know you, but not as much as you want to know me." It took DAYS to perfect this balance, and I'm still pretty sure I tipped the scales by admitting how obsessed I am with my bunny. Remember her? Here you go to jog your memory:


I also had to tell Match what I am as well as am not looking for in a guy, which proved daunting. If anyone can tell me the difference between silver, gray and platinum hair I will buy you a drink or a Geritol. We can even talk about the weather if that's what you're into. I'm also confused because even though I indicated no interest in "slender" guys, that doesn't stop skinny puppies from messaging me. I may be "not sure" if I want kids, but sorry Slim, I am most definitely sure I need to be able to borrow your sweatshirts and not feel fat.

So obviously I don't 100% get this match.com thing yet. If you do, please find some way other than FB to communicate any tips you may have. Here is an article on cultivating carrier pigeons if you're like me and have some free time.

Day 20 again

Well I can stop wondering about this at least.

Day 20

Ugh, I miss FB. I miss stalking my friends. As it turns out I'm not that good at keeping up with people if I actually have to work hard at it. I'm emailing and texting more...and using the hell out of Twitter, most recently to live-tweet my predominantly wrong Oscar predictions and critique the awards show. I don't tend to think of tweeting as cheating. Sure, it's social networking, but only a fraction of my friends are nerdy enough to overlap on Twitter (I love you nerds!, please follow, RT and @ me!).

On the upside, I've become less concerned with spinning every interesting moment or event into a FB post of some sort. I saw a pretty sunset this weekend, but nobody else knew about it and that happens to be A-OK. Even though there was no formal documentation of this as a mobile upload or status update, it still happened and it was still awesome. I instinctively began to brainstorm a caption for the moment, then remembered my Facebreak and shrugged away that thought. I just soaked myself in the pretty sunset, all warm'n'fuzzy in the brightly fading amber light without sharing it with anyone. Until now...but this is only for illustrative purposes, there's lots more cool sh*t you don't even know! (there's not, really)

Moral of the story: I suck at predicting award show winners, and sometimes it's nice to be selfish with your sunsets.

Day 17 again

Ok fine, I'll flesh out that thought. So here's how I see it:

Not only do a blog and tweets engage subsets of friends not always included under the blanket of FB (people who like to read and fellow nerds respectively), but if I didn't do something to communicate with y'all I'd go completely batsh*t crazy. Sure I'm very popular and have lots of friends+, but I live alone except for my bunwah (T.W.),


and she's already getting pissed off that I've been talking to her more often. I'm pretty sure I can read her mind, and I think if T.W. figured out how to speak we'd get into a loud domestic dispute immediately. She'd tell me I should continue with all the feeding and petting, but stop with all the asinine questions because her answers are and always will be

-Yes, I'm f*cking hungry.
-No, I didn't do anything fun today, I've been in a CAGE you as*hole.
-Nothing is up, other than you and your stupid face.
-No, I haven't learned to take out the trash because I don't have thumbs. Idiot.
-Yeah I missed you too, alot, now feed me.
-Don't ask for my opinion, you're just going to do what you want no matter what.
- FYI you have crap taste in movies. Who watches Anchorman on a loop? I mean really.
-Yes I'm serious, and no, I'm not kidding you. Sometimes I like to lick the noisy salt wheel and drink from the clicky water bottle alternately for hours at a time. GET OUT OF MY ROOM, MOM!

So you can see what I'm dealing with here. If I didn't use the interweb to connect with people at all, I'd resort to having more imaginary volatile conversations with the bunwah and most certainly land us on Maury.

+reference (my mom) available upon request.

Day 17

Some people have been asking me if starting a blog or continuing to use Twitter is cheating, the answer is "no." But thanks for asking, jerks.

Day 16

I've been trying to articulate my life less and less in terms of status updates, which should be aided by this Facebreak. I will say I think FB is good practice for being a politician or celeb though, because it got me into the habit of automatically condensing my thoughts into sound bites. I've spaced out for stretches of time and walked 2 blocks past my intended destination or straight into a mailbox as I tried to come up with the best and funniest way to briefly say what I'm thinking. For example:

"Today isn't going so smoothly right now. It would be really nice if people remembered how these things play out, so that I don't have to do the same amount of work and explaining every time we go through it."

usually turned into something like:

"Everyone sucks at life."

Other times I do this without even trying, I'm pretty sure I've had entire conversations where I just spouted one-liners. Like

(phone rings)

me - (picks up phone) O holla!
translation: Hello.

kt - Hey what are you doing?

me - I do what I want!
translation: I'm currently being told to do something and ignoring it completely.

kt - Sounds about right, so what's going on today?

me - I'm doing advertising.
translation: I'm checking FB or talking on the phone when I should be doing advertising.

kt - Of course you are. Do you want to grab dinner tonight?

me - I love fatkid snacks!
translation: Yes, let's. After I inhale some mozzarella sticks I'm going to order a bacon cheeseburger with extra cheese...and extra bacon.

kt - Cool, I'll meet you at your office around 6:30.

me - O snap, oh no you d'in't, that's the jam!
translation: I can't wait, really looking forward to it.

(click)

Maybe now I'll have an easier time remastering language in its extended form. Probs not though.

Day 15

Duuuuude, I'm going to have so many mobile uploads (or pictures, as they shall be called until they realize their full potential) to catch up on after this is over. Like this:


Yes, that's snow on the ground, and yes, that's a frickin' ICE CREAM TRUCK. I took this last night from my apartment. There I was (home sick from work), just trying to listen to Bluegrass via interweb radio and pay my bills online. All of a sudden, the dulcet tones of the mobile sweet treat vendor overpowered Dolly Parton's rendition of "My Tennessee Mountain Home." I experienced momentary elation when I thought, "wow, these meds are great, I slept until winter was over!" Then I realized it's still cold, and that guy must be on crack. I shouted this consensus at him from my window, but I doubt he could hear me over the muzak. Also, I didn't open the window because as I mentioned, it was cold.

The End.

Day 14

Reflection time.

FB/Satan's mission is "to give people the power to share and make the world more open and connected." But really I think it just enables me to be more lazy than I already am. Sure, I've reconnected with people that I lost touch with, but shouldn't we just have been doing a better job of keeping our address books updated if our friendship mattered? It's cool at first to catch up, but ultimately the long-losts and I seem to get bored with each other because there's not much we have in common but memories, and those are finite.

Advantage though: it may have eliminated the need to go to my upcoming 10 year high school reunion. I already know what my former classmates are up to, so what are we going to talk about? The weather, I assume, because that's a hot topic. Just ask my Grandma:


My G'ma effing loves the weather. She loves that fridge Frosty the Snowman we got her too, but who wouldn't ? It's totally kickass.

But I digress...reunions are 'sposed to be like in the movies, when you find out the jocks are alcoholic car salesmen and the mean b*tches got fat, I mean pregnant. Through FB I know most of this already and conversely they all know about me. I'd never be able to get anyone to believe I invented Post-its at this point, and I'll have used up all my good weather chat on G'ma, so it's a wash.

Although with this reasoning I may also miss out on helicopter rides and homicide...I'm either going to be very disappointed or it's going to be the best night ever. Better start practicing my dance moves and martial arts in case I have a change of heart.