Me: (standing groggily in the shower, which, truthfully, isn't much different than how I stand everywhere else)
My Brain: (in an unfamiliar, yet strangely compelling voice) Shave your eyebrows, you need.
Me: Oh,yeah. Knew I forgot something. (picking up my razor) Waaaiiit a minute....
And then I was forced to join Twitter.
Yes, I've called Twitter an insidious plot for world domination by super Buck Rogers computers (it is), but it was either that or lose an eyebrow people! And, I'm sorry, but I LIKE my eyebrows! Because, if I were eyebrowless I'd have to go around dressed like this:
All the time. Because, even with my limited fashion sense I know that a sweat headband would just look stupid by itself.
But now, instead of trashing my whole wardrobe and maxing out my credit cards on workout tights, leg warmers and awesome sweat bands, I'm busy trying to get Barack Obama to follow me on Twitter.
OK, fine. He wasn't my first choice. I actually wanted Jane Austen to follow me and so I followed her, but then she never tweeted at me and I felt all used and stuff. I mean, I've read all your books Jane! I recommended them to friends! The least you could do is twit at me or something! Is that so much to ask!?! Huh!! IS IT!?! But, noooOOOooo, apparently she's too busy being, I don't know, dead. And self-centered. (Yeah. You heard me Jane.)
So, there I was, depressedly wandering Twitter, drowning my sighs in yet another gulp of coffee, when I figured it out. You can't be a self-centered non-following twit if you've been made into a Chia Pet! Utterly impossible, right? Totally!
So, President Lincoln,
and Mr. T,
will you twitterize with me?
Come on, guys! Sing with me! 1-2-3! Hit it Olivia!
"Let's get twittering, twittering,
I wanna tweet with you Chia heads
Let's get into tweeting talks
Let me hear your Twitter talk, your Twitter talk
Let me hear your Twitter talk!"
Um. Sorry. I'm not usually this uncool. (No one was talking to you, Jane!)