goodness gracious, we live in strange times. in order for me to keep in touch with good friends and be culturally relevant i need an account on a networking service who’s name i’m always embarassed to repeat. oy vey.

i also didn’t have much of a choice. there were fake me’s making me look like a doofus. fight tweeters with tweeters!!!

eeek. you can reluctantly find me here. twitter.com/vashtie_sold_out

i won’t be saying things like: “rocking out to DRAKE getting ready for the club…what’s popping hun @iamdiddy…kisses, mwah, luv ya!” (i seriously dislike intentional misspellings)

i might be saying things like: “check out the new blog post of me on OPRAH!…on set directing a video for SHABBA RANKS…i’m having a big birthday party at the LOUVRE, come by!” (the details might be different, but i guess i just dream big)

PS: i won’t stop blogging. that would be blasphemous.

*we’ll see how long this lasts…

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you should have seen me trying to figure out how to work it. i looked like someone’s dad…no not a hip dad that has a facebook and an ipod. for that matter, i looked like someones grandad trying to use my account. eyes squinted at the screen…”how in the sam hill does this thing turn on”. i can’t promise i won’t hand it over for an intern to have fun with.