Being this smart hurts

I've been a bit of a Twitterholic of late. It's like friendship without strings, no hurt feelings, no having to stick to plans (I am quite literally the queen of gasping and saying something sounds fun and "Oh, shouldn't we do this? Let's!" Only to have the scheduled time arrive and think, "Oh my god, I so do NOT want to do this.")

Trading little morsels, not quite blogworthy, but ohmygod, my kid has been wearing her Dora helmet in the house for 3 hours! is too good not to share with someone, and so, I Twit...Tweet...Twa--sorry, got carried with Twitterreverence.

Anyway, Sean has noticed my interest in Twitter and sat down while I clicked around on my laptop.

"So, you know Twitter has really penetrated things," he said.

"Hmmm, how so?" I asked not really looking up.

"Well, there is actually a Twitter account for the Mars Lander." He was looking over at me.

"Is that like Zoolander?" I asked looking at him expectantly.

Wait, it gets worse.

"No," he said looking at me a little bit frightened, "the Mars Lander, it's a probe that--"

It was like I was a 15 year old boy. I began convulsing.

"What? He asked. "What? Is it..."

"You said probe."

He's a freaking saint, I'm an idiot savant:

"Is Josh Groban the new Yanni?" he asks.

I respond, "I have no idea, all I know about Yanni is that he was married to Linda Evans...you know of Dynasty and Big Valley fame."