Why Do I Keep Hitting Myself With A Hammer?

Because it feels so damn good when I stop.

I quit Twitter for all of what, 5 days? What do I have to show for it? A whole lot of Drafts that you really don't want to see, 1/15th of a new organizational system for my movies, and a truckload of frustration and murderous thoughts.

I <3 Twitter. They're my people. Well, not everyone on the Twitter Machine. I claim the literate, funny, sarcastic, morally-flexible drunks. My Team! The rest can die in a fire.

Twitter may be one of the biggest time-sucks on the interweb since people started uploading cute videos of baby animals, but it can also be a ridiculous source of inspiration. Plus I rather love the people there. Twitter is the Cheers theme song of the interweb. Comforting and always brings a smile to your face. Facebook, conversely, is more like the Friends theme song. Entertaining the first 5 times you encounter it, then something that becomes absolutely grating every time you think about it until you have this deep, dark desire to kill everyone who brings it up.

See? Murderous thoughts.

As I kick back in my mad 70s rocking chair* watching people ice skate to Styx "live" from mid January. Fuck I love Styx. Draw what conclusions about me that you will from that. I have snarky thoughts, pretty much always. About strangers, about my dog, about myself, about you. Probably. Most likely.

I may have given my scalp a chemical burn by bleaching my hair 3 times in a single day last week. Or I may not have. I'm confessing to nothing. But if I did, it was probably because I intended to touch up my roots and it got away from me. Yeah. Because bleaching your roots a week out from shingles in your hair is such a great idea.

After a month (or is it two now?) without a cell phone, I don't want to ever go back. Ever. I'm even drawn to the simplistic charm of the land line. Fuck it, I'm bringing back the rotary phone.



*I spent more time than I care to admit looking for a picture on the interweb of a rocking chair that was somewhat similar to mine, 60s, 70s, 80s... I have failed. Take my word for it, my rocking chair was stolen from a sort-of family member and it's vintagely awesome. While at the same time a bit hideous. Which is pretty much a blanket-statement for my taste in everything.