I hate birds. Well, with one exception: Hummingbirds. Those little suckers fascinate me.
So it should have come as no surprise to me at all that I did not immediately jump on the Twitter bandwagon. When that little Tweety Bird hit the air waves, I seriously thought it was Looney. Mel Blanc had to be at least a little pissed, taking a roll around his newly dug home. I can hear him now – I’m a tweet wittow biwd in a diwded gwave…
Ok, that’s just craziness. But much to my chagrin, twitter is not. It’s new and interesting and fun to me. I couldn’t possibly enjoy learning about it any more than I have this past week. And on some level, I maybe even want to know every last thing about it. Haven’t quite decided yet. As they say, the jury is still out. In serious deliberation, mind you, but undecided nonetheless.
While I’ve learned some important etiquette such as it’s polite to thank someone for a RT (retweet, losers) and DM’s are fun – the most important piece of background twitter information told to me by an expert in the field is that it originated with the intent of being similar to text messaging. Now I’m not sure if that is exactly true or he – inexplicably and almost immediately- figured out how my brain works and gave me a meaningful correlation to hush up my line of rapid fire questioning. In either case, I got it. It’s kind of like texting.
Texting…that is a whole ‘nother thing I could go on about. I have no idea how many texts I send and receive on a daily basis. 65? 70? Who knows. It may even be well over 100. I communicate all day long. This week, however, I’m quite certain it has exceeded whatever constitutes my standard number.
Which leaves me feeling a bit hypocritical. I’m constantly ordering Liv to put that $!*@ phone down and STOP TEXTING. Please, for the love of all things holy, would you stop acting like a teenager?!
(That wasn’t directed at her.)