I am seriously at a loss as to what to write. I have my hidden obsession that I nearly was outed very publicly when Channel 4 cameras came up and started filming. In a perfectly timed, unchoreographed move, myself and the girls from Twitarded and TwiCrack Addict ducked down to hide our faces in a huddle as the cameras swung towards us. We were an impenetrable bubble of hidden blogger. Beautiful to behold, but fiercely deadly in our snark. They couldn’t even capture our very own Black, Urban Bella, now with more militant angst in the form of @TJBarber – who, incidentally, was thoughtful enough to bring cupcakes and door hangings for us lot! [Ed. um, i totally want a door hanging. as if my neighbors needed another reason to leave me the fuck alone]

I got a bookmark for being in the queue, and Twilight Moms did a great job organising the shindig. There were raffles of LOADS of stuff (none of which I won because I never win anything, trufax) and, just before the screening, they held the auction for Alex’s Lemonade Stand, which Jenny and Snarky from Twitarded raised a shit-ton of money to win. Can you guess who made an appearance? Can ye?

And they auctioned not only the arranged dinner with Peter, but threw in Kellan for a second auction [Kellan's pants optional]. So there we were, three rows back (thanks to the ninja seat-finding skills of sistersnarky and our new twifriends) making eye contact and interacting with Kellan and Peter. Like. Directly. [Ed. like, FIRST NAME directly] [also, i may have to do this with all of effbit's posts. too much fun]

The ladies didn’t win, but we ask you to trend #twitardedlunch on Twitter and @peterfacinelli in the hopes that maybe jennyjerkface and snarkierthanyou get something for their philanthropic efforts. Oh, and the film? I’m posting about it later. Sending this from my iPhone to laymee so that she can post as I still do not have bloody Internet connection in this new apt. FML. Sent from my iPhone

[yes, totally doing this from now on. i don't care if she never gets back online] [except that's a lie]

It’s been a while since I’ve done an “oh shit, it’s the day after and I’m still rocking a decent buzz” post, so here goes. I find I’m most creative when I am not particularly focused on any one thing. And this was really a 4 day bender, so let me throw that out there as well.

I met my first online type person Thursday.  Was a fabulous time. Many, many, many bevvies of the boozy variety were had, and I wasn’t hacked up in little pieces.  All in all a success, in spite of the psycho Norman Bates-type who followed us from Sweetwater to Diamond, and then, in his drunken mumble-speak, asked if I would like to “go hang out.”  Like then and there.  He wanted the Effbit, and it was uncomfortable and awkward.  I may have laughed.  In his face.  Yes yes yes, I am kinda bitchy.  We know this.  Anyway, the experience was overall a pleasant one and is definitely opening the door for other meet ups – Jordan, of KSWI fame, I’m looking at you.  I’m staring down my eurasian nose at you.  Seriously.  We can make this happen.  I mean hell, I posted that dog-sports player thing last week.  That’s gotta count for something.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, I took a blog break.  And I’m sober.  Huh.  Look at that.

I like me a literate man. Also, mildly obsessive and a little emo. What.

Fear not, loyal reader(s), it is Monday. I will go and have sushi and possibly some japanese beer.  Or sake.  Or both.  Followed by a sangria.  The possibilities are endless.  As is, I’m discovering, my interest in younger men.

I'm really ok with this smirk. I'm also discovering, after last night's charming bartender, that I have a soft spot for a lilting southern accent. I am ok with this too.

Very often we have an image of ourselves that isn’t necessarily projected to the outside world. Not all of us, mind, but some of us. Take for example my friend’s friend, let’s call her Emma. Emma gives the impression of being of the All American Fantasy Doll. She’s blonde. She’s blue-eyed. She’s a lovely figure. She has beautiful teeth (these may not be a god-given gift, but we’ll go with it). She smiles at the right times. She’s able to keep it in her pants when it comes to silliness or flightiness. What you don’t know, about Emma, is that she has a DARK DARK DARK sense of humour. I have found myself liking her more and more of late – apparently this side of her doesn’t come out unless she’s comfortable with you.

Which brings me to my point. We, the thinking women of the media-heavy generation, for the most part, have a Dark Nom. These don’t necessarily HAVE to be sinister.  Some people include my dear Alan as their Dark Nom (when your nom is along the lines of Matthew McConaughey I can see this point, I guess – but not really.  Matthew McConaughey makes my ovaries die slowly and painfully, so, then there’s that).  I’m going to venture to include another “darker” character, very often idolized by those denizens of dark places: the goths.  Enter, Neil Gaiman.

He writes. He writes darker fantasy. Lord knows I have darker fantasies.

I’m going to be careful about what I say about Neil.  He has a hyper-public relationship with one Amanda Palmer.  I admire her goodself in her own right – I challenge you not to love “Who Killed Amanda Palmer.”  It’s a brilliant album, and I’m sure the book is quite phenomenal as well.  I have not been able to bring myself to read it, however.  My voyeurism does have its limits.  You see, Neil wrote each story to a collection of photographs of a “dead” Amanda Palmer.  The collaboration is too much after the tweets.  And the blogs.  And the You Tube videos I watch – while my voyeurism has limits, it is still, after all, voyeurism.  So, Neil, I fancy the pants and the pen off of you, but I am going to have to throw this one on the back burner.

And then, of course, there is that vampire thing.  The wave that’s hit the hormones of hundreds of thousands, dare I say millions???, of ladyfolk around the world.  There always was the sensuality of the classic vampire.  It has lain latent until recently, when pop media has picked it up and ran with it.

Dark dark dark.  Am I complaining?

No.  No, I don’t believe I am.

When fanfiction meets safari, you get "Jungle Cullens" (please sing to the tune of "Jungle Boogie" and add the "ooooooh ah oooooo ah" after. (use of "get down get down" optional)

My own personal Twi-nom goes – Rob, Jackson, Peter, Kellan, Taylor, and the various boys from there.  If I feel compelled to let my mind wander, Jasper often finds himself lost in that big ‘ole house and wanders into an awkward situation with Edward and Bella.  My stories are always so much more detailed than Ms. Meyer’s.

Bitchface goes blonde again post-"The Runaways"

I believe this one is self-explanatory.  Kstew, for the uninitiated, is dubbed Bitchface, for what seems to me, obvious reasons, but for those who are a little more sensitive (and really why would they read this blog anyway) one actually has to HUNT for a picture where this girl looks happy/grateful for what she has/involved in what’s happening around her/or just not a bitch.  I often have to pull her actual name out of the dark recesses of my mind because I honestly cannot remember anything other than “Bitchface.”

And finally, the title track of today’s post:

I was going to think of an applicable caption, but we've titled this file "Jazz Hands" and I think we'll just leave it at that.

*nonsense images courtesy of Awkward Family Photos

HOT, Bill Compton. Oh NOM. But WTF with the “Sookie”?

As I type, I have Laymee on the couch next to me watching TB. She has to catch up with this season. The weekend was brilliant – Laymee’s return to the city. Her homecoming. BBQs, Bday parties, and silliness. And now the fave chinese food and vampires. Just have to make sure I don’t snarf my moo shu pork. “Sookie”. We’re spending the day playing with the blog – so if you folks have any suggestions, recommendations, etc, please don’t hesitate to speak up.

We consider THIS the breakfast of champions - primarily because we don't have to get off our arses to enjoy it. God Bless Brooklyn.

I may post more in a bit, but I am completely distracted by scallion pancakes.

"Effbit, Laymee....why are you blogging when you could be self medicating with Chinese food?!"