bff: hope you’re having a great week boo boo.
me: i have stress eaten an entire big bag of stacy’s pita chips in the last 48hrs.
bff: don’t be hard on yourself about the stacy’s. it happens to everyone.
me: ok whew.
bff: i saw my boss literally drink a sleeve of ranch pringles today.
me: HE WINS.
friend: i’m having some feelings about this. full disclosure my friend wrote it. i think it’s smart and sassy, but i’m still having trouble assigning a value judgment on basic.
me: pls hold while i read this.
me: i already have my defenses up.
friend: i’m just not sure how i feel about the idea that i might have basic tendencies.
me: according to this article, i am the carrie b of basic b’s. a lil bit of all these except maybe the ues one which i’m pretty sure means i am none of them which also means the idea of having basic tendencies is bunk to me. i have routines and interests, but i don’t have tendencies. just because i like soulcycle and hot yoga doesn’t mean i can’t quote mcluhan and read code.
friend: truth. i can quote mcclanahan, if not mcluhan.
me: what does drake mean when he says “i gotta pull up on you” in mine on the new beyoncé album? like, is she a horse and he needs her to slow down? or like, i’m gonna touch you till you get quiet?
him: pull up on you = take you unexpectedly.
me: freelance urban dictionary.
him: LOL foreal.
me: THAT’S a twitter bio.
me: when do you take your pill?
her: morning, but i’ve always taken meds in the morning, since probably high school, so it wasn’t weird for me to learn to take a pill and keep that routine. but other people set an alarm for themselves at the same time every day which is awkward when that time is 7pm in the middle of a brooklyn brainery class, for instance.
me: i was thinking 4pm was safe. i’ll be up, i won’t be at the gym, not too late to disrupt a night out. wait … have you been in a brooklyn brainery class where someone took their birth control?
her: i have been in class with that same woman. twice.
prez: was going to order somezing ands* now i can’t remember.
me: what, like something online?
me: clothing? [no] toiletries? [no] electronics? [no]
prez: ah, forgets it. i can’t remember.
me: something from ebay?
prez: [eyes light up] do you use ebay?
me: what? nooooo. no, i don’t use ebay.
prez: YOU TOTALLY USE EBAY.
me: i don’t even know my username.
prez: AHAHAHA I KNEW IT. YOU LOVE EBAY!
* the president is german
me: one of my fav twitter personalities just retweeted dan nosowitz
jo: yeah dan is a big deal lol
me: are we big deals yet?
jo: getting there
me:..[quoting coolio] 1 … 2 … 3 … 4 …
cdm:..i wonder if ja rule ever had his heart broken.
back in november, i decided to do some major gmail maintenance (i had been using abby728 as a login and amyruthmarsh as an alias for about 5 years, but with the purchase of my 1st iphone and the prospect of having to click “send as” every time i wanted to email someone, i decided it was time to let go of abby728 and port everything over to amyruthmarsh). usually, i love these kind of internet time sucks, but i had actively avoided this one in particular because i knew it was going to be such a fucking pain in the ass. i mean, going through 40,000 archived emails (i love gmail, i’m an agressive archiver, i never delete anything, and i had ported all of my college webmail into abby728 before graduating) as well as my entire on the record chat history was not even my twisted idea of fun.
up until this point, i had only imagined how annoying it would be, technically. like, “ugh, copying and pasting and labeling and saving and exporting and importing all of this shit via some super unreliable mail client? life sux.” but the spectrum of terrible widened pretty quickly after i got started and realized every moment of my legal adult life – the good, the bad, the great, the terrible, the awful, the hilarious, the insignificant, the momentous, the honest, the dishonest, the judgmental, the unconditional … everything – had been recorded and stored in the catacombs of this ill-chosen email address. this wasn’t just going to be a painful project, technically. this was going to be a painful project, late night at the holocaust museum emotionally.
sometimes, the emails made me cry (like the ones from my dad i never responded to). sometimes, i didn’t recognize the sound of my own voice (like the ones to my improv troupe a few weeks after i started college). sometimes, i was impressed by my courage (like the ones to a more than a friend asking him to reflect on our relationship and be honest about his feelings and actions). the transfer took about a week to complete and when it was all over, when every email had been absorbed and unarchived and accounted for, i felt totally wrecked. but. but! i also felt totally alive. like … fuck yea! the things i’ve experienced still effect me! i actively participate in the fabric of my life! i’m emotionally capable of getting myself to tomorrow! i’m upset right now! i’m a human being!
ps – i also have a theory about 20-something tectonics and think this tattoo and i are b’shert.