All week long, I’ve been railed on by some crazed loony in Japan who says I’m not responding to emails fast enough. Because of this, I have started Twittering in earnest so that he has another line of communication from me to read in the event that I’m not responding to his emails with the speed and agility of an antelope. And then he can watch the minutes on the clock go by after he’s seen me tweet thinking “SHE’S GOING TO TWITTER INSTEAD OF RESPONDING TO MY EMAIL!?!?” I believe there’s an Asian professor at George Washington University that we can quote in saying “Uh, das raaaight.”

I’m a child of the internet and everything, but even this Gen Y webber can’t stay on top of all the many lines of communication constantly running. I think I have close to 20 email addresses, a blog, a Facebook, a much forgotten MySpace page, a LinkedIn profile, a Twitter account, a few IM names and an endless number of other profiles on a million other sites. People often wonder why I have such a poor memory, and I truly believe it’s because my brain is scattered across the interwebs.

All of this to say, if you’re wondering what I’m thinking/doing RIGHT THIS INSTANT, and will not be able to eat your sushi until you know… you can follow me on Twitter. I’m pretty sure there’s only one person who fits that description, and I’m pretty sure he won’t be awake for another 13 hours so I just might get some peace and quiet.

We met political gangster, Murray Waas last night. Pretty wild experience for this budding blogger. I have a new journalistic hero… and a GW attendee at that.

We had an entire conversation today using a series of text messages.

Matt: Can I get a GPS today?

Priscilla: Yeah. Can you give flea and heartworm? Know who gets what?

Matt: Any idea where the meds are? It’s the squeezable stuff, right? Berlin gets the big one and Mojo gets the little one?

Priscilla: They should all be in that tupperware on top of the washer/dryer unit. For flea/tick, you’ve got it – Mojo gets the little one, Berlin gets the big one – both squeezable. And then the heartworm is a pill that they both get; I think it’s called Prevention or something. And they both get one of those – same box same size. Thanks, Boo! What GPS are you gonna get?

Matt: Interceptor? Selected GPS.

Priscilla: Yeah, Interceptor.

Matt: The doctor is in the HOUSE!

Priscilla: Ooo! what a cute little GPS! Voice PROMPTS! That’s HOT. And so are YOU!

Matt: Voyeeeece.

Priscilla: Can you find me? Can you find me? WHERE AM I?

And that’s the last I heard of him. Probably because he was so in love with his new GPS that he was trying to use it simultaneously with his cell phone while peeing at a public restroom. When his hands began to fumble and only one electronic device could be saved from the pit of the urinal, he chose the GPS! What good is a GPS if you can’t even use it to text your wife a response to her lame joke? NOT VERY GOOD if you ask me!

But seriously, he’s been needing one of these for a while now as he spends an average of three hours daily in the car. This will allow for easier access to the public libraries and Paneras that he frequents for free wifi between cases. And now he’ll have no excuse when I text him urgently at 6:15 in the evening with “Your wife needs a clamroll.”

I’m very pleased to announce the addition of a beautiful new Nikon D40 to our family! I have been wanting a DSLR for years, and finally found not only the right one, but the financial incentive to purchase one. While not the equivalent of the roughly $15,000 that we’ve spent on Matt’s post-graduate education in the past year, this camera is my version of continued education and career advancement. The purchase was made that much sweeter by G Dub’s Economic Stimulus package which, despite being morally and politically opposed to, I decided to take advantage of. My conscience will most likely never forgive me.

I’m truly astonished by all that I can do with it, and will have to read through the manual another 4 times before I REALLY understand what it’s capable of. Luckily, I have a cat who is more than happy to be my test subject as he adores the limelight. Matt and Berlin are not as thrilled to be constantly followed around by the paparazzi, and have put the kibosh on early morning photo shoots. Which is fine, because that’s when Mojo is his whiniest and most willing to pose upside down dangling off the sofa.

My dear friend, Marissa, is coming over this evening for what she thinks is dinner and dessert. Little does she know that she’s about to become a veritable America’s Test Kitchen model, because I am dying to see how well the D40 captures the light off a glass of wine! I’M SUCH A DORK!!

And boy was she right. My sisters and I all married nerds which

1. makes them all easy to shop for (can we say Barnes & Noble giftcards?) and
2. means they all get along well with our dad, Executive Chief of Nerds.

I dated a good 10 guys before Matty finally came along, and the lesson of “marry a nerd” was proven true. During my stint in the rat race I experienced all kinds of guys, which can easily be defined by Police songs:

• The Psycho – “Every Breath You Take”
• The Masochist – “King of Pain”
• The Revolutionary – “Spirits In The Material World”
• The Believer – “Roxanne”
• The Romantic – “I’ll Be Wrapped Around Your Finger”
• The Professor – “Don’t Stand So Close To Me”

The one that really swept me off my feet, though, was The Nerd who has a longstanding obsession with space odyssey, and has requested that I shoot his remains into the atmosphere to the tune of 1,000 trumpets upon his untimely death. Fittingly, he is “Walking On The Moon.”

Matt’s an amazingly goofy and wonderful person – and a phenomenal songwriter to boot. The very first song he ever wrote and recorded for me goes like this:

Hot pursuit
I didn’t even know the time of day
Ran so fast and I looked the other way
Now you and I are becom’ an institute
Take it please
Read between my lines
I can’t escape
The shape of things will finally take shape
We go together like crackers and cheese

Try me now
Ask me anything you want to know
Grab my feet and don’t ever let go
‘Cause I’m flying high and won’t be coming down

Can’t refute
What you’ve got is giving me the chills
When I take away the frills and thrills
You still send me afloat in my spacesuit

Grab my hand and we’ll walk across the world
I can watch you watch your life unfurl
I am yours and you could be my girl
I am yours and you could be my girl

LADIES, MARRY THE NERD!

While Berlin loves to eat spam, her mother furiously tries to fight the war on digital SPAM on a daily basis. I know that you come here to read bizarre stories about Berlin, and to stay up to date on Matt’s existence as he’s so poor at maintaining communication with his family and friends. But I can’t guarantee that posts like these won’t slip into the blog.

With that caveat, I was SO THRILLED to read this post on the always wonderful MailChimp blog today. With updates to CAN-SPAM, it looks like companies will no longer be able to require a login for users to unsubscribe from emails. There must either be a one-click unsubscribe option, a reply-to email option, or entering one’s email address into a form option. I know a number of organizations (hint hint, nudge nudge!) that will be forced to change their subscription models because of this and will wind up better off for it.

There are few things in life I love like permission-based email marketing. Long live HTML email!