That is the question . . .

 

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Now That’s A Horse of A Different Color

One of my very dear friends invited me to join Twitter so that I could keep up with her life. I sent her an e-mail saying that I just didn’t think that I could take up yet another computer habit.

It’s not that I don’t want to stay in contact with my friends who Twitter. The truth is, I don’t believe that I would be a good Twittererererer. Please, if you don’t believe me, just look at one of my entries. I average 1200 words per post. The people who read me regularly must really like me or enjoy my cynicism. I don’t know how to do 150 characters or less or whatever the optimum Twitter limit is.

I can picture it now:

Twitter from James:

“Hey. What’s up?”

Response from me:

“Well, my head is exploding. The tiles are falling off the wall in the bathroom, and I’m pretty sure that there is extensive water damage. Jeez that’s going to cost a lot of money, and well, who has money right now? Eamonn is driving me up the wall, and I just found out the Ranch flavord Doritos have MSG, which is probably why they give me headaches. Why didn’t I ever notice it before? Do you /

Cut off in midstream.

I would spend a good 10 minutes yelling about how inane it is to expect anyone to be able to respond in so few words, and then I would try to pick up midstream where I left off in another Twitter, by which time, Jammi has tweeted me back about five times.

Let’s try again.

Twitter from James:

“Hey. Things are good here. How are u?”

Response from me:

“Would it have taken that much longer to type you? You type an ungodly fast speed, as fast as I do, probably faster. How are things good? What happened? Did Korb actually make it through the night two nights in a row? That’s fantastic. Boys are so much easier to potty train than girls, but you have to watch out because they get sneaky and hide behind end tables sometimes when they don’t want to take the time to go to the bathroom. I remember one time when Eam/

ARGHH!

Jammi, I love you. I miss you, and I wish that we still talked daily. I wish that you were on your way through Chick Fil ‘a, picking us a sweet tea for both of us, yours without lemon, mine with, and that we were working the floor together, just the two of us. Then we could try on clothes and pretend that we didn’t hear the pages. I miss seeing Kennedy grow. I hate that I don’t know Korb. I think that Kyle and Corey would really like each other. But sweetheart. I can’t Twitter. It’s impossible. You know that it is. I even text in complete sentences with punctuation.

I have a better idea. Why don’t you guys move back east? Then we could talk to each other face to face . . .

So, dear readers, what do you think? Am I cut out for Twittering? I mean Rachel Maddow does it. Obama did it. Demi and Ashton Twitter each other all day long (but I think that I’m just jealous because Demi still has such a rockin bod, and I don’t).

To Twitter or not to Twitter . . .

I’ll try one more time.

James:

“Hey. What snoo?”

Me:

“Nothing.”

Lying is easier than trying to be succinct. I hate that . . .

More later. Peace.

                                                                                                                      

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5 thoughts on “That is the question . . .

  1. Hi Lita,
    Sorry for that. I was using an Australian slang term for someone who has an obvious mental problem.(such as talking to themselves as they walk along the street) It is not used in a derogatory way.
    Maureen

  2. Hi Lita,
    Very funny post. I decided to give Twitter a go 2 weeks ago. I am an irregular poster because what exactly are you meant to post? Obviously no one thinks my twitters are interesting, not even my daughter. as I have not had one single follower. No… I did after my first post but it was from someone who was “ill at ease”, so I blocked them. No one since LOL
    Maureen 🙂
    PS Hope the new meds. are going well

    1. Maureen,

      Exactly. What are you supposed to supposed to put in these twitters?

      What does “ill at ease” mean? Nauseous? Unsure about your writing? Sociopath? Don’t get that one.

  3. I like Twitter, but am myself a terrible Twitterererer. I tend to come and go in waves, like the tide. 24 hours of heavy Twittering here, utter separation from the twittervse there. But, I remind myself not to feel bad. I’m not getting paid to Twitter. Nobody’s life depends on it. So, I dabble and I play. Like a cat in a kid’s sandbox… sometimes I even stink up the place. Heh.

    1. See, that’s exactly how I think that I would be: twitterrrrrring my day away one day, and then nothing for weeks. And then I would feel guilty just as I do on days when I don’t post. I don’t think that I need the guilt.
      By the way, your wife’s post was so sweet (I really mean that). I can so relate to what she was saying. I’ll bet that you two are an adorable couple. Continued best wishes on the baby front, and continued much gratitude for you incredible images. When I use them in my posts, I feel as if I have eleveated my posts to a new height, no bull.

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