A data dump, because otherwise I'll never manage to post again.

OMG, people. I'd tell you that real life has me by the balls, except I don't have any. And I have so much to do today, I can't stand it. So I'm going to do the blogging equivalent of what I do when I haven't written my mother a letter in a really long time and the stuff I need to tell her keeps mounting higher and higher and I get carpal tunnel syndrome just thinking of how many pages I'll have to write to get her up to speed.

(My mother is old skool and expects written letters.) But sometimes the idea of writing everything down is overwhelming, and I have to just dump the data. So I call her up and babble at her for an hour.

So let's pretend that I called you up, and you asked me how I was.

1. As soon as Christmas was over, I got going on Operation Get The Girl Child Into a Private School, because honestly? I really don't see her doing all that well at the huge John Hughes-ish high school in our district.

So there were campus visits and shadow days and SSATs and application-writing. The good news is the more we found out about the local private schools, the more we realized that only one would really work for her, so that's the only school she had to apply to. But then? She didn't get in. So that accounts for about six weeks of being crazily busy, culminating with much time spent comforting the girl child.

2. The many Clean House mini-marathons I've watched since discovering this amazing show have inspired me to really take charge of my house, but the cleaning alone is overwhelming--and that's not even dealing with the clutter. And I think I'm getting a little compulsive. I mean, I'm sitting here thinking about how I really need to mop the kitchen floor.

3. I haven't been talking about style because my shopping has been confined to Christmas presents and the cleaning product aisle of the supermarket--with occasional trips to Bed Bath and Beyond for closet stuff.

4. In related news, how did I not know about the wonders of the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser before now? I bought one a long time ago and discovered it sitting in my broom closet, still in the package. But when I opened it up and tried it on a stubborn scuff mark on a baseboard, the clouds parted and a chorus of angels began to sing. And then I ran around looking for stubborn scuff marks to clean. I also did an entire bathroom floor, at which point, the plump, exuberant, snow white Mr. Clean Magic Eraser was reduced to a sad, skimpy festered lily--that's how much fun I was having.

5. You should see what a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser does for a stainless steel kitchen sink that has been sullied with tea and coffee stains. Shines it right up.

6. I'm thinking of using a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser on my teeth.

7. Just kidding.

8. Blackbird tells me she approves of the rebooted Talbots. Have you checked it out? Everyone talked about the new Burberry and the new Brooks Brothers and the new this and the new that, but where's the love for the new Talbots? I tell you what: I've picked up a few things there and have been deliriously happy. The latest is these gold hidden platform sandals

which are lovely and retro and astonishingly comfortable.

9. Recently, Jen and Wendy and Susie Sunshine and Blackbird and I had a combination girls' weekend/Tour of Homes, where we checked out Wendy's addition and Casa Fletchcaster and my place too, although with all the Mr. Clean Magic Erasing, I'm surprised there was anything left to see.

Interested parties were also treated to Jen and Poppy's John Hughes movie location tour. We visited Kevin's house from Home Alone, the park where Kevin visits Santa, Cameron's House from Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and Jake Ryan's house from 16 Candles.

When I admitted to never having seen 16 Candles, we had a movie night and watched it. And I'm so glad I did, for several reasons. First of all, Anthony Michael Hall is completely adorable in 16 Candles, which is great because he makes me a little crazy in The Breakfast Club. Also, Jen wasn't giving us any of her home-made lasagna until we'd watched the movie, and the lasagna was incredible.

10. Jen gave us all pre-publication copies of her latest book and first novel, If You Were Here. John Hughes cognoscenti will understand the title, which I understand now too, courtesy of our movie night. Anyway, I read it and it's great. Two very enthusiastic thumbs up. If you like Jen's books and/or John Hughes movies, you'll love it.

11. And here's an extra bit of data as a GWP: I recently made a complete fool out of myself by calling on my twitter army to shame Crate and Barrel into delivering the sectional I ordered from them in October. This was pretty much of a total failure, since I have no twitter minions to speak of. Still, if you'd like to see how a baby boomer who grew up watching syndicated episodes of Gilligan's Island uses social media to bend a major corporation to her will, check out my twitter stream.

Twitter

It started off as a moment or two in my early morning routine: check my "real" email, check my blog email, check yesterday's stats, head over to bloglines, oh, and fire up Twitter, the closest thing the blogosphere has to a three-panel comic strip.

This is not Twitter's stated purpose--far from it. Twitter is the answer to all those people who keep whining that my people's blog posts are too long. On Twitter, you get only 140 characters to describe what you're doing.

Except the best Twitterers, in my opinion, don't do that. (I mean, if I were on Twitter right now, I'd twit "writing a blog post," and the response would be "HOW FASCINATING" followed by a massive stampede over here to check it out, while my stat meter whirred around so fast the numbers would be a meaningless blur.)

But I jest. That, my friends, is hyperbole in action.

The really great Twitterers are not the ones who inform the internet that they're drinking their morning coffee. No, the great Twitterers are the ones who squeeze a tiny, hilarious blog post out of only 140 characters. And produce a haiku of funniness.

So now, I am Twitter's bitch. I need my daily 140-character funnies.

Well, OK I also follow twits by Red Sox Cast and Defamer and FameCrawler and Barack Obama. Because I don't just blog here, I also blog at Mamarazzi. So I need to know when Britney Spears drops a kid on its head and Manny Ramirez hits it out of the park and Barack Obama makes an amazing speech about it.*

But mostly, it's about the funnies. Like SarahO and SusanW and Schmutzie and Sweetney and Susie Sunshine and hey, that's just the letter "S" !!!

The problem is that there are not enough of them.

So internet, get off your lazy behinds and sign up for Twitter. And then start following me so I know you're there. Then I'll start following you. At which point, I'll require you to post at least once a day. And your posts had better be funny, or at least, vaguely amusing. Because you, internet, exist to keep me, Poppy, from being bored.

So get cracking.

(Drums fingers impatiently.)


* (Pronouns deliberately vague because I'm hilarious that way.)