I Dream of Twitter

So last Monday night was a rough night in terms of sleeping. It was our last night on our old mattress (Yay for the new Tempur-pedic). We build a new headboard that fell off the wall and onto our heads at 3:30 AM. I had to get up at 5:30, to be at a training class at 7:30 which was 45 minutes away. Basically, all the forces of getting a good nights sleep were against me. And boy did I have some crazy dreams. Specifically, I dreamed of Twitter. It was a party and all the cool kids were there.

I don't remember when I joined Twitter, and I am too lazy to look. I remember my friend Laura said that we should get on Twitter and I did. I don't think any of my other friends, including Laura, stuck with it. I actually liked being on Twitter and engaging people all over the world on topics from HR to bellydance. The next thing I knew, I was having conversations with some pretty cool people who lived in my town. Then I was at a pub crawl dressed in a Snuggie. Drinking in a Snuggie is awesome! If you have not tried it, I am both shocked and demanding that you add it to your bucket list.

This snow balled in to a series of social events with some really awesome new friends that I would have never met had it not been for Twitter. Just as I was getting into the groove of hanging out with my Tweeps, the unthinkable happened - we moved!

Now you are thinking that since Twitter is on the interwebs then moving would be fine because you would still Tweet. Yes, in theory. Except I felt left out. I made one Tweep in my hometown, where I moved to, and he even brought me a diet coke once during a particularly long appointment at his place of employment. Still things just weren't the same. So a I Tweeted less and less, and then not at all. (Except my automatic blog posts and 4sq).

So then, last Monday night, I had a dream. Chris and I were in a random house looking for a party that we had been invited to. It was almost like a party quest. What television has led me to believe one must go through to find a rave. Purchase a pickle at the gas station on the corner of 4th and Vine, pay only in nickels. That sort of thing. Anyway, this quest led us to the most expensive neighborhood in town. To a particular house, where would get the final invite. Once we arrived, sitting at the kitchen table and tweeting were several of my tweeps. For some reason, in my dream, it was important that they did not recognize me until I messaged them and got them to say that I was "in". I really have no idea why because that was the exact moment when the cushion fell out of my new DIY headboard and hit me on the head.

So I am back Twitter, I missed you.

Update: Squatty Potty

The Daily What featured this video today.  

Part One: Here

I had actually ordered the plastic Squatty Potty when the nice people over at SP HQ offered to send me one. I told them I had ordered the plastic as a starter model (and because the low price would help convince Chris that it wasn't a horrible idea) but hoped to love it and one day upgrade to the bamboo. They sent me the bamboo! I was surprised and happy. It does look a lot nicer and I actually think the slight angle makes it more comfortable than the plastic. I moved the plastic into our guest bath and put some of the brochures they sent me on the back of the toilet so guest would know what was going on. I am also going to take info to my chiropractor, massage therapist and doctor.

My mom was our first visitor to go into the guest bath and say, "what is this?" I showed her what it was and how it worked and she seemed to be genuinely interested in the benefits, which made me happy.

So what do I think of the Squatty Potty?  I like it. If you are really inflexible it can be hard to get your knees up. Chris let me put yoga bricks under the Squatty Potty and he slides them out and puts his feet on those until he can increase his flexibility. I actually think it makes sitting on the toilet more comfortable on your rear. I am glad that I got one and think Chris is warming up to it. I think the fact he is trying to be flexible enough to use it all the time, speaks volumes. He obviously sees the great benefit to squatting. 

The Birds

Rocky, our office cat, just brought a live bird into our office. It's probably the office managers fault. She told him to get them because they are pooping on our cars. Well, he listened.
I heard her yell, "Rocky, no!" I assumed he was running out the open front door not returning through it. He immediately came around the corner to my office. Once I realized there was something in his mouth, I expected a mouse before my brain could register bird. I yelled at him to put it down. It flew all around and he caught it again. We finally got him to drop it and it flew into the front office, hit a window and fell behind a desk. I grabbed killer and tossed him in an office, closing the door. We shooed the bird out and flew away looking remarkably uninjured.
Rocky sulked around the place trying to find what we did with his prize. He also got his first flea of the new year for his trouble.

Just call him killer.

Whenever something crazy happens like this no one is around to see it. Who says working in an office is boring?