FAYZANATION

Why, hello.  HELLO HI!

Okay, we have to talk about it.

Being the bashful blogger that I am, I awoke early with the specific intent that I was going to write a blogpost.  You know, seeing that I haven’t done that since December (I’m ducking your gunfire as we speak).  Err.  Okay, okay, you caught me; that’s a total lie.  I was rudely shaken from peaceful slumber by my feline companion’s mewing, which, when unanswered, graduated to howling, which devolved into sucking on my hair and kneading his claws into my head (yes, this behavior is quite regular for him). I decided to jostle myself into the real world by hoisting my laptop onto the bed, and almost immediately, he fell asleep next to me.  He’s been completely silent for about, oh, let’s say, an hour?  That’s about as long as I’ve been up, anyway.

Sucker.

So instead of dwelling on the fact that my waking hours are likely to completely suck based upon the fact that I haven’t had a restful night of sleep for about a week, I decided to turn lemons into lemonade (yum, lemonade sounds great right now!) and write (wouldn’t it be great if the expression was “turning milk into cheese”?  I think I like that one better; I’m going to use it from here on out).

Ahem.  Except, like, I can’t.

You see, my brain is broken.  I’m blaming Twitter.  ‘Cause there has to be something to blame, and it’s pretty much required to be some sort of social media that psychologists will argue is changing my traditional social behaviors for the worse.  I mean, I only think in brief, bite-sized, followable quips anymore!  Everything else worth saying is either retweetable, overheard, or a link to a website!  And it’s amazing that the limits on what I have to say are 140 characters or less!  I know, it’s a Christmas miracle!

Woof.

I’ll be the first to admit that I pretty much suck at this blogging thing.  I didn’t always suck, but now, I do suck.  Sure, I have topics to write about.  I mean, I returned from the fun-and-learning-filled time warp that was SXSWi on…um, was it yesterday?  No, no, never mind, it doesn’t matter.  The point is, I have plenty to say about that, but perhaps not the time to gather my thoughts.  Or perspective?  Errr, perhaps not the motivation to gather my thoughts.  Oh, oh, and I know, there’s always time for me to further litter the blogosphere with my ideas on social media!  Because there’s not enough out there already!

Why am I lying so much this morning?  Any constructive thoughts that need to be written about have been completely overtaken by thoughts of boys.  Particular boys, theoretical boys, unspecific boys, but there you have it – boys, boys, boys.  Hey 30, is that you a-knockin’ or what?

Crap.  This is going downhill fast.  And my boss is going to read this.  And he’s going to shake his head, and maybe his cheeks will turn a little red.  O HAI BOSSMAN!

The truth is, the tunnels leading in and out of my head are pointing in a million, cajillion, bazillion different directions right now (why does this feel like a cop-out email that I’ve written to my friends back in Ohio when I can’t make it to their baby showers?).  So, think of this as a placeholder.  No, no, actually, think of me as the cute, wholesome, strangely attentive frat boy that diligently kept supplying you beers at that kegger (you know the one), who graciously got you wasted and encouraged and supported your idea of dancing on the couches topless while making out with your sorority sister,  who offered his bed to you when you were too drunk to make it back to the dorms (with sheets that hadn’t been washed since his freshman year, and was he a fifth-year senior already?), and who left the house for “class” before you could even roll over to ask him where your socks and underwear landed.  You’ll tell everyone it was love.

Moral of the story?  I’m using you, dear readers.  I’m using you and this blogpost to get my blogging groove back.

Was it as good for you as it was for me?