I've just woken up from a terrible dream in which my mother, I KID YOU NOT, planned our next family vacation to the moon. And I was, naturally, freaking out and asking her all kinds of questions like, "What if I don't want to go?" and "What will the flight be like?" and the best yet, "When did they start giving clearances for family vacations to the MOON?" and SHE SAID, "When they found water there, duh," and I was so disturbed because it was the first family vacation we had taken in decades, actually, and all I wanted was to go to Myrtle Beach and lay in the sunshine and instead I was going to be forced to wear some terrible space suit after a nine day flight to the middle of nowhere in space. She kept looking at me like I was crazy, like, "Hello, this is something to add to your list of things you did in life that nobody else got to do - go to the moon!" and frankly, I'm still a little disturbed. My point being that this post might actually come off sounding a bit neurotic or overexcited at the simplicity of my life. I'm secretly thanking God with every letter I type my mother isn't making me go and that Myrtle Beach is still within the realm of possibility.
Nay, the real reason I'm posting is because last night something INCREDIBLE happened. Something so other-wordly it's BIGGER than the moon.
Gofugyourself.com twittered at me.
Yes, it was as glorious as it sounds.
Before I get too ahead of myself, I need to back up and explain that I'm not exactly star crazy. I mean, I'd probably jump a little in my seat at Ihop if I saw Brad and Angie across the way with nine thousand pancakes and nine thousand kids but in no way would I ever get up and go over there and be all, 'could you sign my flapjacks for me please thankyousomuchiloveyou" because, hello, that's rude. They're just trying to enjoy their syrupy goodness.
BUT TWITTER. Twitter is so fantastic because as of October of last year I got to reply to Rosi Golan...yes THE Rosi Golan about how much I love her music and SHE RESPONDED BACK. It was quick, it was simple, it was fantastic. It allowed me to tell her something I've wanted to tell her since I picked up her cd without invading her space at The Olive Garden or spilling something on her at a Taylor Swift concert she also happened to be attending.
So last night, I'm minding my own business, watching Jeopardy (and really kicking the category "Name that Musical"'s ass) when Gofugyourself twitters about...movies, or something. I'm not actually sure, I had to go back a little bit to investigate further. Behold:
fuggirls Dudes, I'm sorry. But "Valentine's Day" looks like the poor man's "He's Just Not Into You." THAT'S NOT A COMPLIMENT. - J
which she then followed up with:
fuggirls To clarify: He's Just Not that Into you is the poor man's Love Actually. VD is the poor man's HJNTIY, ergo VD = the REALLY poor man's LA - J
Now, let's disregard the fact that I totally disagree with this statement, because I am amped as F to go see Valentines Day. I LIKE when a thousand stars get together unnecessarily for a love story. I am a sap for such nonsense. I'm looking forward to seeing TayTay kiss onscreen so that perhaps I can decipher what went wrong in their chemical romance that has OK! magazine screaming 'IT'S OVER!!!!!' in the aisles of Walmart where I dissolve into tears with a bag of peanut M&M's crying to myself, "Whhyyy....whhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?"
But I digress.
So I simply twitter back something light hearted and witty. You know, the way you always picture yourself being when you run into a celebrity at Costco and you're both in the toilet paper aisle trying to figure out if it will work the way the bears on that cartoon commercial say it will.
a2earp @fuggirls how long did it take you to make that 140 characters?
IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWED BY:
fuggirls @a2earp At least a couple minutes longer than it should have. :)
and that was how Twitter got me so f'ed up with joy that I proceeded to go to bed and dream about my family vacation to the moon. It may seem small to you, but to me it was everything. ONE GIANT STEP FOR MAN KIND.
I love gofugyourself. They are passionate about clothing and witty and hysterical and never care what others think about their opinions because they stand by them wholeheartedly. Kind of like my best friends. View them here.
I suggest going straight to anything they might have written about the kids from Twilight or Claire Danes in the past year. They're fantastic.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to call my mother.
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