Some things you just can't Twitter about

...even if what you want to say is perfectly expressed in under 140 characters:

"At bedtime, the still-rumpled sheets were a sweet reminder of the afternoon's indiscretion."

Oh, Captain, my Captain!

So first off, I've begun to think descriptively, to capture moments, in Twitter bites. This is sad, and really bad for my writing muscles. For example, the post above is a pale shadow of what I thought of last night, but refrained from Tweeting (thank God I still have a little bit of decorum left, and have not gone full-on We Live In Public quite yet). I can't remember the good structure that floated through my head last night, and my writing is just too rusty to come up with something equivalent or better.

Next oddness, when I decided to blog this instead of Tweet it, I autopilot logged on to Twitter anyway. Twitter has infiltrated my brain way more insidiously than I'd realized.

Thirdly, in the time I've been away, Blogger has gotten really hard to log onto! Annoying (though they do have a new "Monetize" tab that I might want to check out...)

You know what else is annoying? A clearly dominant personality who claims he wants to be dominated, but could never let go. And there's something else I'm rusty at, as well; I've totally lost the skills and was unable to keep him in line. Sigh, I've got a lot of work to do to get back on track.

PS: that link above talks about way more than just the "We Live In Public" project, so I don't want to give it short shrift. The end of empathy is something I've felt, ironically but most noticeably, since 9/11. Almost as if true feeling and connection has been replaced by the Cliff Notes version. Maybe this is another aspect of my Twitter-ready mind right now, and something else I'd like to work on more. But I think that will deserve a post all on its own. For now, let me just say that I agree with pretty much everything Jason said up there...

The psychology of the booty call

Wow. It was just pointed out to me that I haven't blogged in months, and that I should, because I used to be funny once upon a time.

Then, like a sign from above, someone sends me a very bloggable and appropriate link:
The psychology of the booty call.

Safe dialing, everyone!

A jury of your peeps

Happy Easter, everyone!

Even better than a movie deal

Spoiler Alert: If you watch House and you haven't seen last night's episode yet, please skip down to the last paragraph of this post.
< end spoiler alert >

Last night, after the tears had dried, once the anger had set in at losing my favorite character, I thought, "There had better be a really excellent movie in the works to make up for this!"

The reality is so much better.

Non-Spoiler Info: Dude, seriously? Once a tv show has broadcast, all bets are off, and it's really not my fault if you haven't gotten around to seeing it yet. Sure, you can ask that we not talk about it in front of you, and we will surely comply. But to overhear a private conversation, and then yell and scream that we ruined it for you, when you never even told us that you haven't seen it yet? It's not my responsibility to keep tabs on your personal viewing habits, just like it's not my responsibility to remember your favorite ice cream flavor, or that you don't like chocolate or something weird like that. I'll respect your requests, but you have to *make* those requests first. I'm not a mind-reader, and you're not the center of the universe.

Geez.

Is terrance Brennan my new celebrity chef boyfriend?

This sounds deelish. Maybe I had the wrong celebrity bf all along?

Copy-editor humor

Really, who couldn't use a good cocktail about now?

More humor dear to my former-English-teaching heart:
The Fall of the Iron(y) Curtain

Radio Free Maggie

These song lyrics used to make me weep every time I heard them:

Cath, she stands with a well intentioned-man
But she can’t relax with his hand on the small of her back
And as the flashbulbs burst she holds a smile
Like someone would hold a crying child

And soon everybody will ask what became of you
When your heart was dying fast and you didn’t know what to do

Cath, it seems that you live in someone else’s dream
In a hand-me-down wedding dress with the things that could've been all repressed
But you said your vows and you closed the door
On so many men who would’ve loved you more

And soon everybody will ask what became of you
When your heart was dying fast and you didn’t know what to do
The whispers that it won’t last roll up and down the pews
But if their hearts were dying that fast they’d have done the same as you
And I’ve done the same as you

But I heard it recently on the radio, and not a single tear. I was actually able to enjoy the song!

It made me realize just how miserable I was when I was dating B. I was so terrified that the above would be my fate -- to marry someone I didn't love enough, just because it was expected and I thought I didn't have any better options. And now I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest.

Can PTSD be a good thing? I'm definitely having weird feelings and reactions as I sort out what had been happening, but I don't think they are bad reactions or feelings. It's sort of like being Rolfed, or untying a big tangled knot.

So for any of you beloved folks who have wanted to hate him on my behalf, please don't. He did me a huge favor, and got me out of a bad situation that I refused to leave on my own. (Though I love you dearly for having my back, of course!)