I’m having a post-vacation let-down. Being back home, watching the kids without Darcy and restaurant meals: I ain’t gonna lie. I miss that golden family time already. I also really enjoyed connecting with silver and golden friends, but now that I’m back, I’m reminded how isolating my day-to-day life is.
And that most of the people I see in person regularly bring me down.
On Twitter, it’s a virtual Round Table at the Algonquin. You can
try to trade quips with literary heroes and your favorite bloggers. Of course, at this table I am the dullest, smallest piece of dust on the oaken plank. But at least I’m there.
My silly tweet about Peggy Orenstein, whose memoir about infertility, “Waiting for Daisy” was my bible when I was going through IVF. This tweet was about “Cinderella Ate My Daughter”, which I have written about before.
She responds! Squee!
Tweets also act as a way to foster advocacy: many tweets remind others about causes like NIAW. I think Twitter was probably the main reason PETA backed down.
It’s also a huge time waster.
And procrastination vehicle extraordinaire.
I have a feeling that in a few years time, I may look back on my tweets as woefully as the abysmal, self-important journal I kept during my first trip to Europe. Sample entry: “The Louvre is an essential storage facility for art. But it certainly isn’t convenient as a visitor’s gallery.” *cringe* And yet, I don’t feel that way about my blog posts. I’m pretty pleased with them.
What do you think of Twitter? Friend or foe?