Human nature is the nature of procrastination.  Most of us put off work or school projects until the last minute, so why should recreational plans be any different.

I didn’t exactly have this week off.  I did two midnight shifts this week.  Tomorrow I start back on days.  I had the whole day to myself though and there were a few things I wanted to do (comic store, exercise, trim nails, write).  Ooseung was at her cousin’s.  Amy was at an all-day field trip with Sun Su.

So I twiddled around on twitter.  I just signed onto it this week to see what the big deal was.  It’s not the second coming of the messiah like so many articles profess, any more than the macarena was, but it is kind of fun … moreso when you get more than two people on your list.  I’m sure it can be useful for advice, or to see how boring/self-promoting celebs can be (if they’re even typing it themselves), or for saying you’re trapped in a burning building (with really good wi-fi), or for marketing I suppose (*blurg* threw up a little there, excuse me, maybe it was the peanut butter I tweeted earlier).

Getting people you know, barely know, or could know is what makes Twitter fun.  It’s a lot like the status updates on Facebook only more frequent and conversive.  Plus you don’t get spam in your inbox (your original email inbox, the one that holds all the trash from your social networks) whenever someone responds to something you responded to.  Twitter seems more apt for mobile devices and texting on the go (which I haven’t done), but doesn’t have all the other stuff on Facebook that initially attracted you and then bogged you down.  No ridiculous (but humorously irresistible for me) Facebook quizzes either.  According to which, I am: lethal like Ebola, hot like Amanda Seyfried in Mean Girls, stupid like Anakin, crazy like Juliette Lewis, suited for Angelina Jolie, and much, much more.

This is not an advertisement for twitter, which is overrated, but still kind of fun.  If you’re inclined, look me up (medeasin).

Besides that, I went to the comic book shop today, wondering why good writing doesn’t ever seem bundled with good boob art in the comics.  It’s always one or the other.  As if Shakespeare never cared for what buds through yonder fun bags break.

I picked up:

Justice League of America, just to see what those wacky do-gooders will get into next;

Fables, always good writing and fun;

Supergirl, because there’s some Superwoman’s ass on the cover;

and a new one called Bad Girl, which was a mistake.  Sucked in by tractor beam boobs again.  Sigh.

Best buy for me was The Punisher graphic novel, “Barracuda,” by Garth Ennis.  I love it.  Real and gritty but iconic, larger than life.  The funny thing (to me) is that The Punisher doesn’t seem to have arch-enemies that last long enough to be arch-enemies.  He keeps killing them off, and in his world, they don’t come back to life like Superman did, or Captain America will, or Batman will, et cetera.

I also trimmed my nails and ran and went to the gym.

Oh, and three grungy-looking guys in a van drove by and asked if was interested in home theatre equipment.  I just said “No, I’m set,” because it really didn’t seem like a good day to get raped by three grungy-looking guys in a van today.

My cynical meter is running.  Guess I’m ready to go back to work tomorrow.  Sigh.