I deleted my Twitter account today. Admittedly, a year-and-a-half after starting the thing, I was no longer enjoying it. Well, maybe I haven't been enjoying it for a while before that...
I can credit Twitter with introducing me to a fantastic bunch of people, from Betheboy and the Slackmistress to Heather Harris and Michael Holmes, amongst many, many others. But the fun ended a long time ago. Maybe it's entropy? Maybe it's my awkward experiences with "Twitter stalkers?" Maybe it's fatigue from hearing what everyone ate for breakfast?
Who knows? But I feel a certain release from eliminating Twitter from my life. It's just one less thing I have to pretend I care about. It's one less thing to waste time doing when I should be sleeping. You know, like blogging? ;)
Friday, October 23, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Excerpt 19
She and I don’t talk too terribly much anymore. It’s been nothing but awkward since we fought for that first time. I guess I figured that we’d survive one measly fight, considering how well we got along otherwise. But we didn’t survive that one fight. Any friendship we had appeared to die.
And, of course, it was all over a boy. Oh, not in the way you may think. Did I find myself in the midst of a “bromance?” I think I did. “I love you, bro. You and me mean more than any girl. I’d do anything for you.” Boys lie.
When it happened, he apologized. I accepted. And I essentially told them both, “Do what you will.” I think they both blamed me regardless. I tried to “be the bigger person” and “get over it.” And, honestly, I did. I guess maybe I’ve grown up a little. Maybe I’ve learned that I can’t have what I want.
He’s pretty much out of the picture these days. We’ve all sort of fallen out of touch with each other. When someone mentions him these days, I stifle a little laugh. It’s amazing how much impact two people I’ve barely known can have on my life. And just how quickly those people can slide back out.
When she and I do see each other these days, we talk about the strangest things. We don’t talk about the weather, or movies, or politics. We talk about hair. We talk about bruises. We talk about cats. It’s like we’re still what we once were. Only, a faint memory… not the real thing.
And, of course, it was all over a boy. Oh, not in the way you may think. Did I find myself in the midst of a “bromance?” I think I did. “I love you, bro. You and me mean more than any girl. I’d do anything for you.” Boys lie.
When it happened, he apologized. I accepted. And I essentially told them both, “Do what you will.” I think they both blamed me regardless. I tried to “be the bigger person” and “get over it.” And, honestly, I did. I guess maybe I’ve grown up a little. Maybe I’ve learned that I can’t have what I want.
He’s pretty much out of the picture these days. We’ve all sort of fallen out of touch with each other. When someone mentions him these days, I stifle a little laugh. It’s amazing how much impact two people I’ve barely known can have on my life. And just how quickly those people can slide back out.
When she and I do see each other these days, we talk about the strangest things. We don’t talk about the weather, or movies, or politics. We talk about hair. We talk about bruises. We talk about cats. It’s like we’re still what we once were. Only, a faint memory… not the real thing.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Portland Oregon And Sloe Gin Fizz
I suppose that if I’d have made a list of things I expected to do in 2009, spending a few days in Portland, Oregon wouldn’t have been on it. Yet, somehow, I found myself in Portland this weekend. That’s just sort of how this year has been for me. I’ve done a lot of things… I’ve been to a lot of unexpected places…
Portland is a pretty cool place. It’s a large city that feels like a small town. There’s no denying that there are a lot of people there. Yet everyone acts as if they know you. It’s so… unassuming.
Admittedly, there is no real story here. I got on a plane. I discovered that Portishead is the best flight soundtrack ever. I went to Portland. I came home. I was not assaulted by a cadre of pistol-wielding nuns. I did not drink a fifth of whiskey and stumble into the mayor's residence to play Twister. I did not feel embraced. I did not feel missed. But I went, nonetheless.
Portland is a pretty cool place. It’s a large city that feels like a small town. There’s no denying that there are a lot of people there. Yet everyone acts as if they know you. It’s so… unassuming.
Admittedly, there is no real story here. I got on a plane. I discovered that Portishead is the best flight soundtrack ever. I went to Portland. I came home. I was not assaulted by a cadre of pistol-wielding nuns. I did not drink a fifth of whiskey and stumble into the mayor's residence to play Twister. I did not feel embraced. I did not feel missed. But I went, nonetheless.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Naptime
Looking out my bedroom window at this hour, I still can’t see a damned thing. I fell asleep around 6pm last night and woke up just a few minutes ago. This isn’t anything close to a regular sleep schedule for me. It’s just how things go. I sort of thought that moving to overnight work hours would automatically mean I slept during the day, 7 days a week. Well, it doesn’t mean that whatsoever.
And I think the sudden appearance of fall in my neck of the woods has caused me to be even more sleepy. I’m taking lots of naps. I’m sleeping at odd hours. The cooler weather brings back the fun of cuddling with my cats under a load of blankets. I’m missing phone calls, text messages, etc and it’s pissing people off (*poke*).
And, ultimately, I don’t really mind. It seems like the best way to find myself was to absolutely lose myself. I’m living in my own little universe these days. It’s quite fun, actually.
And I’m sure that’ll elicit all sorts of opinion, both good and bad. But it doesn’t really matter. One thing that irritates me about this blog is that it only displays a few facets of my personality. I mean, reading this blog gives someone a 2-D version of what I’m like. Which is often how I wind up with creepy, awful, manatee-like stalkers obsessing over my every move.
Seriously, kids, it’s not worth it.
Go outside. Read a book. Listen to a record.
And enjoy what’s to come…
And I think the sudden appearance of fall in my neck of the woods has caused me to be even more sleepy. I’m taking lots of naps. I’m sleeping at odd hours. The cooler weather brings back the fun of cuddling with my cats under a load of blankets. I’m missing phone calls, text messages, etc and it’s pissing people off (*poke*).
And, ultimately, I don’t really mind. It seems like the best way to find myself was to absolutely lose myself. I’m living in my own little universe these days. It’s quite fun, actually.
And I’m sure that’ll elicit all sorts of opinion, both good and bad. But it doesn’t really matter. One thing that irritates me about this blog is that it only displays a few facets of my personality. I mean, reading this blog gives someone a 2-D version of what I’m like. Which is often how I wind up with creepy, awful, manatee-like stalkers obsessing over my every move.
Seriously, kids, it’s not worth it.
Go outside. Read a book. Listen to a record.
And enjoy what’s to come…
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