All of my favorite Twitterers are following me on Tumblr now.

Which means that I should probably update.

Fuck.

(and no, he’s not the person I wrote my last entry about.  But he is Howard.  He saved my life, sort of. We majored in creative writing, so we don’t need punctuation.)

Ems: my grandma is NUUUUTS

Howard: haha, stories!

Ems: she had to move out of her retirement condo in Florida because she was terrified that her neighbor broke into her house, stole her jello mold and replaced it with an inferior one. now she thinks her cleaning lady stole the legs off her sofa, and it never had legs

Howard: hahah, im inclined to side with her

Ems: you never know when people will steal things that don’t exist

Howard: its true, theyre the most susceptible

Ems: certainly the lightest

From January to June of this year, I found myself falling in love upwards of twice a day: once in the morning, once at night.  During lunch or the Daily Show on finals or midterms weeks, when I’d have to go to sleep with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind playing in the background instead of the sound of snoring.

Now I fall in love once a week, approximately, between 3 and 5 in the morning on an undetermined night.  And it feels exactly the same as it had, every single time.

You can’t blame me for not moving on.  Right?

Okay.  So Mr. @Donchiefnerd is back from vacation, and I am inclined to honor his request to write more on Tumblr.  However, everything I have to say sounds pretty self-pitying and silly (read: even though I really like most of you, I’m terrified to open up for fear of being judged/betraying the Twitter persona I’ve erected [hur hur, erected].  But seriously, if you want a great example, check out @Miss_Cook’s work, which has been frankly phenomenal.  Until I’m comfortable putting myself that far out there, prepare for lists like this and possibly an upcoming grilled cheese primer and review of breads.

Here’s a list of language quirks that annoy the hell out of me.

1) At the end of the day / it is what it is: George Carlin (I think.  my corrupted child-memory converts all worthy language-based comedians into George Carlin) used to do a bit about his own language pet-peeves and these were part of it.  Anyway, I never understood the big deal until I befriended a person who uses these phrases in EACH AND EVERY CONVERSATION WE HAVE, AND OH MY GOD SHUT UP.  Or at least say something meaningful, or with a little passion behind it.  ”It is what it is?”  Can’t we say “It is what it isn’t” and play Deconstructionists for a bit?

2) Typing like you’re a goddamn LOLCat. I will never appreciate humor from macros of any sort (o hai tumblr, Bad Decision Wolf or whateverthefuck can haz kidney organ failure plz) and as such, if you are “full of win,” call your pet a “kitteh”, or say “ell oh ell” aloud (occasional passes for irony, but don’t push your luck) Ceiling Cat is watching me hit Unfollow and walk away at a moderate pace. Contact me when your testicles descend.

3) Breaking into a foreign language randomly in the middle of a sentence. First of all, I’d like to point out that I originally typed “in the middle of a sandwich,” which would have been incorrect.  Breaking out into a foreign language randomly in the middle of sandwich is perfectly normal; who hasn’t cried out, “Donde esta la biblioteca!  Mein oncle esta un amo amas amat amamus amatis amant” in the throes of a fine turkey-avocado club with the perfect mayo-to-mustard ratio.

But seriously, stick to one language per sentence.  Preferably, per conversation.  Particularly, if you have to keep translating yourself for your conversation partner’s benefit.  (NOTE: Using English words that are too long or difficult for your conversation partner to understand, so you feel smarter than them, is acceptable, because that’s something I do.) NEXT:

4) Answering a multi-variable question with “Yes.” i.e.

Me: Would you prefer Gouda or Gruyere on your grilled cheese?”

You: (smirking) Yes.

Me: (takes my buttered skillet elsewhere)

(note: this individual is clearly a dangerous sociopath and should be avoided at all costs.  Gouda AND Gruyere on a grilled cheese?  really?)

5) Babbling meaninglessly

OH SHIIIIIIIIII-

Tonight, I find myself wishing someone would instant-message me, just so I can pointedly ignore him.  This can’t be healthy.

But Tweeting vaguely and euphemistically about having sex with your new girlfriend when you know that you are followed by your ex who is still in love with you…that just isn’t done.  Or at least it shouldn’t be done.  I wish I could report him to the support team for Gross Breach of Human Etiquette.  but of course, if you could do that, Twitter would only have .4% of its current users.

So…my friend Brian tells me that I need to update my tumblr, but someone more famous than me did one of those self-pitying rant posts a few days ago, so now I feel like I would be stealing her idea.

But I also feel like people on Twitter would like me more if they got to know me, which you can’t really do in 140 characters.  I get the impression that people think I’m snobby or pretentious, which I probably am.  For my entire life, I’ve thought in a different way than the people around me, so I’ve never really fit in, and Twitter/Tumblr is no exception.  I’m not a mom, or married, or a professional working in an office, getting drunk of weekends (I would, but money, transportation, and living with my parents are issues) or having relationships.  So what kind of persona can a slumming semi-intellectual with middling emotional problems even pull off on something like Twitter?  ”Over-analytical, pretentious hipster chick”, as someone called me yesterday, is as close as it comes.

Anyway, the bottom line is, I spent the first sixteen years or so of my life not caring if people liked me.  Then, I went to college and met people who liked me.  Now that I’m alone, I want very much for people to like me.  What the fuck.

Why do I only write decently after 1am?  Finally, something to blame my low profile on.