As I was so pleasantly reminded by the birds outside my window this morning, this week’s self assignment was to make myself a Twitter. *oi* After sifting my way through a plethora of marketing job offers, I realized that being at least twitter-ate is a necessary evil of the business. I faced my fears of the power of the internet in the hands of narcissists, and bit the behind-the-times bullet that is inevitable when you finally start a mode of social networking that everyone had ages ago.
My biggest reservation about getting a Twitter was just re-iterated by one of my best friends, and I quote:
“I love you. You are not cool enough to have a Twitter.”
I have no doubt he’s right, and that’s exactly what always stopped me before. Creating something that had the sole purpose of sending out frequent tidbits of information to others carries with it the implication,
‘I think that what I think is cool’.
Iiiiiiiitt’s not so much that I don’t think I’m ‘cool’…more that I recognize that I am far more entertaining to a select few than I would be to the masses. Perhaps it’s an insecurity that I would try and fail. People with something to sell, however, do think they’re cool, and want you to know how to yack about it to potential purchasers. With the new theme of discovery propelling me to forge ahead, I set aside my hesitation about my ability to ‘tweet’ in harmony with my peers and surrendered my personal information to the Man (or…Bird?) in exchange for an account.
Awkwardly poking my way around, I couldn’t help but adopt the voice of my grandmother in my inner monologue. “What does THAT do?” “I don’t know what all these new-fangled words mean…” (Actually, that voice serves as my narrator more often than I should admit….whoops).
So far I’m not entirely turned off. I mean, I have a nice little red leaf in my background, AND Rainn Wilson tweeted a joke that made me chuckle. Perhaps I shall survive this venture after all.
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