I've been pretty quiet lately.
This is because I think mostly in one sentence bursts, which are usually followed by hysterical laughter. My own hysterical laughter.
Then, I log on to Blogger, and try to make that one sentence funny to you in the same way it was funny to me.
This mostly results in failure.
What Twitter does is this: It allows me to post those sentences as they arrive, preventing me from half-writing a blog before I discover: Not only is the post I've written half of not funny, it is also not interesting.
It makes me sad to think I'm not funny. It makes me eat compuslively when I discover I am not interesting.
Dad has not found me interesting in the past few weeks. [This is because he is Blue. But not the color, the feeling.] Since Dad has not found me [or anyone else] interesting, I have purchased two large Papa John's pizzas with extra cheese, and set about consuming them. By myself.
Now, eating one cheese pizza by yourself is bad. Eating two cheese pizzas is really bad. Eating two cheese pizzas while dipping each bite in Special Garlic sauce that is mostly made of soybean oil and fat and maybe cancer is almost as bad as you can get. Eating two cheese pizzas with the Special Garlic sauce and following the meal up with a handful of Double Stuf Oreos (in each hand) and you have reached a level of bad that makes you happy that you bought your new jeans loose at the waistband.
And then you become even sadder.
Now, if you do not have Twitter and if you don't know that right now at Papa John's you can get any large pizza for the low low price of $10.00 each, which is only a dollar more than the small, which is practically the same price, and if you aren't being entertained by Rachael's nostalgia or YA author Maureen Johnson's jars and hamsters, you might be wondering: "Where is Laura?"
The answer is this: Right where I was the last time you looked.
See? Everything is okay. We can all rest easy.
Except, Twitter won't let me rest easy.
This is for several reasons:
Did you know that YA writers (not to mention Other writers) get advance copies of their own books and actually go as far as to give them away to people? And they tell you about it on...Twitter!
Did you know that certain yarn dyers post what I refer to as "Porn for Knitters" right there on Twitter? Sure, there isn't really any nudity involved, unless you count undyed wool. In fact, it really is pictures of various yarns in pretty colors, sometimes knitted into pretty things. Porn for Knitters.
I am a Nerd. If I keep eating two large cheese pizzas with Special Garlic sauce and handfuls of Double Stuf Oreos, pulled from the bag sitting next to me on my bed, I will become a Big Fat Nerd.
Right now I am a medium-sized Nerd. That is why I just closed the bag of Oreos. Laura wants to stay medium-sized.
Sometimes, Our Supreme Nerdfighter Masters (Hank and John Green--may I add John is another YA Author), send us little messages via Twitter urging us to do certain things to decrease World Suck.
Stop laughing, Jennifer. You knew this all when you met me. If you don't think you did, you were in denial. There's a reason why no one in band with us remembers who the heck I was. This is that reason.
For example, one day we got a note from John saying that we ought to go visit Esther, who has cancer, on her site and tell her that we hope she feels better soon, and that we are thinking about/praying for her.
And today, John gave us this:
So I sent off a little note to Viacom, telling them that they owe Jonathan Coulton 37 dollars, and they should tell us where that money is.
This makes my life more interesting, and much more exciting.