09 December, 2009

My Life According To Twitter

Don't you hate it when you get all jazzed up to watch a rerun episode of an old show you love, like the Fresh Prince of Bell Air or Saved By The Bell, only to discover that its one of those stupid flashback episodes where everyone trips out into a dream sequence, remembering an incident that happened in a previous episode? Doesn't it just seem lazy, like they couldn't come up with fresh story line, so they just pulled the cast together for an hour and shot them reminiscing so they could just cut in old footage?
Well that's exactly what I've done here, but with a modern twist. Here are some Twitter highlights from the last couple months since I've been back from Chicago. They are in no particular order other than reverse order, so feel free to read top to bottom or bottom to top. I know it's lame, but try to enjoy.


Something feels good about this morning. Something feels empowering about this morning. Something feels...oh, its already 1:30pm.

How have I waited 5 years to watch the heart-felt, bubble gum pop masterpiece 13 Going On 30? My giggling tears of joy will not cease!

I am officially retiring from peeing standing up. Too much responsibility involved.

My beard-dandruff is sending me a message: take a friggin' shower.

I'm looking forward to the small successes of the day. I even plan on getting dressed for the day in about a half hour. (It was 4:30 in the afternoon when I tweeted this.)

It's the Nyquil induced coma that keeps me going.

Oh so THIS is what they were talking about when they said having a newborn was rough.  

I was sitting here in the hospital trying to fall asleep and the urgent thought crossed my mind, "I wonder what Christopher Lloyd is up to?

Today was epic. Absolutely biblical. How can anyone fully process the act of childbirth? My mind is thoroughly and completely blown.

Ok, 10+ hours in the hospital. This baby really needs to get a move on.

I wish I could call the Hannah Montana Sunday marathon a compromise in viewing interests, but my wife isn't even in the room anymore.

If Kylie Minogue and Amy Winehouse had a baby (dont question the logistics) her name would be Lady Gaga.

Not bad New Moon, not bad. But I'm totally Team Jacob.

My friend used to hide cookies in the elevator of our apt building in Chicago. For no reason.

Somehow its Sunday. Wasn't it just Tuesday? Well it was, but not so recently I gather.

My non-facebook savvy wife just discovered her profile said "interested in women" and has been set as such since day 1.

Where The Wld Things Are is a sucky, stupid, boring way to waste a Wednesday matinee and a pack of Maverick chicken bites and honey mustard.

Google it. Its true.

Perpetual exhaustion. I miss my Swedish inflatable mattress from Chicago. I'm not cut out for real beds.

The girl sitting next to me at the airport smells let wet, sour, peeled, but uncooked potatos.