Match Made in Heaven

They say that the best way to find love is to stop looking for it. I mentioned previously that I had suspended my search for a black coat with a hood. Well, I'm pleased to announce that I found such a coat this past weekend. Or I guess I should say it found me. It truly was love at first sight. A thing of beauty -it is black, woolen, and has a hood to make Little Red Riding Hood jealous. I tried it on first, although I knew it was "the one." It fit like a tailored Snuggie with sleeves that took me from monkey to kangaroo. The silk-lining glided over my sweater sleeves like socks on a hardwood floor. Days of shirt sleeves bunched up to my shoulders like football pads would soon be distant memories. Three large buttons fastened me in like a love letter in a self-stick envelope. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

First thing Sunday morning I slipped on that coat like we were old friends. Nevermind that it was 70 degrees and sunny. I headed out to the library with a new found confidence that I could handle any amount of precipitation or air conditioning that might come my way (yes, I went to the library, someone has to make Con Law look good). I wore my coat again today and I don't know how I lived for so long without it. What's that you say? It rained today? Gee, I didn't notice. I was both warm and dry all day long. It looks like you really can have it all. And yes, Santa Claus, there really is a Nordstrom.

The Snug Wow

I used to think there were two kinds of people in the world - Snuggie people and ShamWow people. Now you can have the best of both worlds. If only you didn't have to walk to the kitchen to use the Magic Bullet or the Ginsu knife...

Twicken Noodle Soup

I'm twying to figure out how to Twitter. I feel the same way I do when someone in the Tax department at work tells a joke. I know I'm supposed to get it, and everyone else seems to be enjoying it, but it makes no sense to me. According to Twitter, it is "a service for friends, family, and co–workers to communicate and stay connected through the exchange of quick, frequent answers to one simple question: What are you doing?" The Twitter site lists three reasons why you should Twitter. It says:

• Eating soup? Research shows that moms want to know.
• Running late to a meeting? Your co–workers might find that useful.
• Partying? Your friends may want to join you.

First, my Mom doesn't want to know that I'm eating soup. She wants to know what kind of soup I'm eating, where I got it, if I got enough soup, if I'm still hungry, and why I'm eating soup and not working. Fortunately, Twitter limits "tweets" to 140 characters. Second, if I tweeted every time I was running late to a meeting, I'd be on Twitter all day and miss all my meetings entirely. And my co-workers know I'll be late. If I'm ever on time to a meeting, that might be something to "tweet" about. Third, sitting by my computer tweeting is not my idea of a party. And I don't want friends who think it is. Twuthfully, I'm not sure anyone cares what I'm doing. However, it is enough of an ego boost to pretend like everyone cares about every move I make. So I've taken the plunge. I'm twying to Twitter. Now, like I said, I'm a little twetarded. My stubborness won't allow me to give up, though, so I'm determined to figure out what all the fuss is about.

So far, I've learned that there is a whole Twitter language. It is slightly easier to learn than conjugating spanish verbs. From what I can tell, you just add "Tw" to the beginning of every word. This effectively turns the kid with the speech problem into the hip techie with the twendy lingo. As for me, I'm not sure I have what it twakes to spend my twime twacking every tweetable twitch I make. I'll keep twying, but put me in the short nest for now.

I'm off to eat some soup, mom. Some chicken noodle soup from the grocery store and I have two cans in case I'm not full after the first one. Then, I'll get some rest before getting up for work in the morning. Oh, and I'll probably be late for that meeting - go ahead and start twithout me. I might be partying on Twitter.