The 30-Hour Famine is quickly approaching . . . again. Here’s hoping it actually happens here at Now Church this time. I’m blaming its not happening when originally scheduled, for the fact that I now have a Twitter account.
I was not. ever. going. to. get. a Twitter account. Not. Ever.
Then I had a whole Saturday I wasn’t expecting to have, and my Paul was out visiting a childhood mentor who is in hospice care (or headed that way), and . . . well, mostly what I did that day was clean the house, because the next day was Easter and my Paul’s Siblings were coming over (you already know that). But sometimes when you’re cleaning the house you kind of want a little break, and my little breaks usually involve turning on the computer and playing a couple of words on Words With Friends or something, and that day when I turned on my computer there was a Blue Like Jazz update. I don’t even remember what exactly it was about, or what the potential reward was for doing this, but they said something like, “If you follow us on Twitter, you’ll get . . . ” or “you’ll be the first to know . . . ” or something like that.
There’s something kind of entertaining (to me, anyway) about creating new on-line social media accounts, and maybe since I no longer need to open new accounts at online dating sites, and because of this admittedly not very memorable Blue Like Jazz incentive, I finally hopped over to Twitter and said, “Oh what the heck.”
I’ve hopped over to Twitter before, but never with this result. Even though my family was one of the first families I knew of to have an at-home personal computer in the 80’s (a Commodore Vic-20, thankyouverymuch), I’m rarely ahead of the trends, and when I get behind the trends, it makes me all stubborn and resistant. I kind of take pride in not-keeping-up. I didn’t have a Twitter account, I don’t have an e-reader, it took me ages to get a smartphone. I like being able to do life independently of these things, and I know–I know–once I cross over, I will not be able to survive without them.
I was already one down (someone provided me with an iPhone about a year and a half ago), and now that I’ve caved on Twitter, well . . . I’ve been trying to sell off a lot of my book collection lately because we just don’t have room here at the Cottage, and the libraries don’t always have the books I want–even through interlibrary loan–and so now I feel like I’m just moments away from a Nook or a Kindle. Craziness.
In the meantime, I feel sort of buffeted by tweets. I’m now “following” 108 people or entities on Twitter, and they all have something to say and I, who used to be so verbose with Facebook status updates, feel somewhat quelled. I don’t know these people, and they most certainly don’t know me. If I post a response to a celebrity tweet, why would I expect it to be acknowledged? That’s just silly. It turns out Twitter is not the best place for people with Popular Kids issues. I only have 31 “followers” (and by the way, I really hate that term–makes me feel like I’m taking the Lord’s name in vain or something), and I try not to mind, but it’s so measly, and every time I get up to that number, I post another blogpost and about a fifth of the followers disappear. It’s because I didn’t say I wanted to watch Blue Like Jazz eight more times, isn’t it?
Oh sheesh. My insecurities are showing.
I think I’ll go read a book. I mean . . . yeah, a book.