Housekeeping (said in the vane of Tim Curry at the Plaza Hotel in Home Alone 2)

[Obscure, strange movie references FTW!]

So, this isn't going to be a "real" post, per se...it's mostly just taking care of business (and workin' all night NAH NAH NAH NAH).

First, I've finally opened up my Twitter to be public.  I wrote about it here, but to sum up that rambling mess, I am basically "forced" to because of the field I work in (or will hopefully work in).  When you apply for social media jobs, they apparently want to see that you understand social media--who knew?  Therefore, public Twitter.  If any of you didn't want to go through the process of requesting my approval to follow me, it is your damn lucky day!  One-click following, at your service!

Second, I've been wanting to change my layout for a long time now. It just...bothers me to look at now. I still love it, love the design, love the fun little scrollbar as pagemarkers, everything.  I'm just incredibly indecisive and restless and feel a change coming on.  So, bear with me in the coming week or two--there may be some scrambly coding bits going on.  If you do happen to find a problem somewhere on my page, I would very much appreciate it if you let me know! (Tweet me or e-mail me: prickslikethorn[at]gmail[dot]com)

Lastly, and most importantly...I think I'm changing the name of my blog.  NOT the URL, that will remain the same.  So no worries about your Reader feeds or anything of that sort, it won't affect how you follow.  The only thing it will affect is if you were so kind enough to have me on your blogroll--as soon as I launch the new name, I would be incredibly grateful if you could update your blogrolls.  I will keep the fact that I was formerly "You're the Charlie Browniest" on my page for awhile so you'll have some time to do it, but I just wanted to give a heads up.  I should be making the change sometime within the next week or two, when the new layout happens.  I battled for a long while about doing it since I hesitate to make major changes, but I trust my lovely readers can handle it. Plus, it is for the best.

Oh right, reasons why.  Don't get me wrong, I will love Charlie Brown and Peanuts and that line from A Charlie Brown Christmas for always.  There's just been...concerns...about copyrights.  Not actual legal problems, its just that I don't want to take images of Charlie Brown without knowing I'm ok to, or if for some reason I were to end up making money off the blog (I don't think that would happen, but handle the hypothetical with me, ok?), I just don't know what it would mean having the blog name be the ownership of someone else.  Plus, I've found the name to be a bit creatively stifling, so...change is good.  Right?

Yes.

Anyhow, busy week with the redoing of the website and the applying of jobs and the reworking of some personal things, plus participation in the 20sb Blog Carnival coming up!

Happy Monday, all!

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A few thoughts to round out the weekend.

- Today was very peaceful.  The Carlsbad Village Street Faire (which is apparently the largest single-day vendor fair in the nation) was going on, in which myself and one of my best friends decided to drive out to.  Seriously, it is MASSIVE.  You see how long the fair goes, and you think, "Wow, that is long"...and then you realize there are offshoot streets from it every block.  And then you realize there are offshoot streets from the offshoot streets, all of which have vendors.  It was crowded and a bit hectic, but it was still very...nice.  There's really no other word for it.  Beautiful weather, entertaining people, interesting surroundings...it was just nice.

-  A Ritz cracker package took me so long to open just now that my train of thought was absolutely lost, and whatever was planned for the second bullet point is gone with the wind. Darn.

- Outings have successfully been had the entire week despite the hive.  It is a distinct accomplishment that walking outside has happened.

-Dilemma. My twitter is locked so who sees my tweets can be controlled by me.  Acceptance is given to anyone who requests it, but it is nice to know who exactly can see them all--and, if need be, take that option away.  Reason being my exact location is sometimes tweeted.  This blog does not expressly display the name of my suburb--it simply says San Diego, and on occasion my general area is referenced.  But my choice to not employ the same "security" on Twitter is because tweet conversations with real life friends reference places around my home.  Simply stated, Twitter is personal; my blog is public.  The problem is that several jobs hiring in my field request access to applicant's Twitter accounts since they involve Social Media--meaning mine will have to go public.  Something artfully avoided since my entrance into the Twitter World in 2008.  Before it is suggested, two Twitter accounts will not happen; it is a hard enough time managing two forays into the social media world, there is zero chance success will be had managing multiple accounts. The obvious solution would be to stop tweeting exact locations, but it's unfair that my responses to friends will have to be restricted. So many facets of my life are protected, it would be nice to keep one open.

-  Watching Kobe Bryant in press conferences keeps increasing my dislike of him.  His expression and attitude are completely irksome.

- A "secret experiment" is being done this entire week by me. But really it's more of a "secret challenge" just to see if it can be done...and it is fudging hard.  Said experiment/challenge is taking place here on the blog and on my Twitter (how many times can "Twitter" be said in one blog post?!*); the latter having been started Friday early morning, and the former having started with this post!  This is a very strange bullet mark, as none of you really have no idea what is being spoken of, but that's ok...more fun for me!

- Utterly exhausted after 4 hours of sleep last night and the events of today.  Hope everyone had a fantastic weekend!

*Apparently "Twitter" can be said 8 times.  Well, 9.

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How Twitter Saved Me (Once)

Despite a love/hate relationship with Twitter, it comes in handy.

One blustery February evening, I decided to go to a house party with a few of my friends. I had to be talked into it because of the 16 friends I went with, only one of us had a connection to the host (and it was just a mutual friend). Rolling up to a house 16 deep without knowing anyone is a bit intrusive, in my opinion.

Anyway. We go, we drink (water for me, as I was driving back to my apartment that night), we be merry. We see a few people we knew; one of which is a guy that I will refer to as Frenchy. Because he is French. Not just having french ancestry, I mean that he was born and raised in France and was an exchange student at our University and speaks mostly in French. (For future reference, oui, je parle courament le francais.) Frenchy...is creepy. He looks like a meerket and has beady eyes that seem to judge and follow you everywhere. In addition, when you speak to him, he often whispers (for no reason) and darts his eyes around rather than look at you. Very off-putting. As it happens, he very rarely talks to me one-on-one because he 1) hates Americans, and 2) thinks we have a language barrier. I've never told him otherwise about 1, nor have I corrected him on 2.

Now, my entire group of friends shares the feeling about Frenchy -- to the point that we have developed a sign of distress for when he engages one of us in conversation. Two quick tugs on an earlobe means "I am not enjoying this interaction and desire to promptly be removed from it with your assistance, if you please" (more or less) and should result in rescue.

Should.

Standing outside on the patio, happily having a laugh with four of my friends, I feel a tap on my arm. Turning, I see a very drunk Frenchy. "Hello," I say to him cautiously.
"Can we talk?" he asks softly.
"I...what?" Before I can do anything else, he grabs my arm and pulls me away from the group to a dark corner of the patio.

Alarm bells. Ear tugging ensues.

"I'm so sad," he tells me, one arm around my shoulders. "My girlfriend was going to come visite-moi, mais she didn't!" Had I not been so freaked out - or tugging my ear so much - I probably would have found his french-english hybrid amusing. But I did not.

Tug Tug.

He continues, telling details about their relationship and how he misses her and how it was weird doing long-distance and how he cheats on her because he feels as though he's alone.

TUG TUG TUG.

Somehow it has melded into how he feels misjudged and how Americans don't understand the French and how France knows what is right and if Americans just fucking listened we wouldn't be so screwed up in life.

FUCKING TUG TUG TUG TUG.

I try to get away from his grasp, I push slightly against his chest, I try anything to seem engaged while pulling away. And when I slightly turn my head, all I see are my friends standing there, staring at me, eyes wide. One of them takes a picture.

Bastards. You will RUE this day*.

Having not been listening to him, I am completely taken by surprise when he throws both his arms around my shoulders and pulls me in for an uncomfortably tight hug. Giving up any attempt at being polite, I jam my hands into his chest, struggling to push away. Heart failure as I feel one of his hands snake up through my hair and hold the back of my head. "I'm just so lonely," he whispers into my ear.

And then it happens: hope. My phone starts to buzz loudly in my back pocket.

"What is that?" he asks, loosening his grip.
"OH MY GOD A TEXT I HAVE TO CHECK IT LET ME GO!" I yell, shoving him away.
"A text?" he asks.
"Yes, my friend is having a bad night and she needs me," I lie quickly. I flash him my phone screen so he can see the new message, but none of the content.
"That sounds important. Ok," he concedes, walking away.

When I finally check my phone, I see that it was Twitter, alerting me to a friend's new tweet.
When I went back to my friends and inquired as to why no one rescued me, all of them laughed and said they wanted to see what was going to happen.

And that, my friends, is why Twitter is useful: because it will save you when 16 asshole friends won't.

*they rued it. i put Frenchy on an invite list to one of my friend's parties i wasn't able to attend. i'm told he went and stuck with them all night, hitting on 5 of the girls and 2 of the guys. they were all angry at me for about a week, but it. was. worth. it.

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