Confession: I own a Twitter account.
Twitter is what all the cool kids were doing a few months ago. Now that it has entered my radar, it is probably on its way out. For those of you living under rocks, Twitter is a social networking tool where you can send out "Tweets," short statements which update your followers about the minutia of your day. This is usually done via text messages on phones.
So, although I own a Twitter account, I do not Tweet for the following reasons:
1) Do I really need another venue to overshare? Besides writing about myself every day on this here blog, I have email and a Facebook account. Even my narcissism has bounds.
2) I don't text message. My phone has texting features, but I have never used them, and consider this to be an odd point of pride.
I've always been late to the whole cell-phone party. Paul and I didn't get cell phones until 2001, when we were driving across the country. We've updated our phones once since then. I often let my phone battery go dead, and I don't give out my cell number unless specifically asked.
I have a phone now because I have two small children, and you never know. However, I consider myself a cell-phone Luddite.
(Ironically, I saw a friend's iPhone recently, and found myself saying, "I totally want one of those." Such is the power of shiny gadgetry.)
3) The third reason I do not use my Twitter account is that I'm afraid nobody would follow me. There, I said it.
So, now that I've laid all that out, I'll totally contradict myself and share the Tweets I Could Have Sent. People of the Internet, you can tell me if I should do this for real, or if my initial instinct was best.
6:30 AM: Why is Joel half naked? And why does he have washboard abs?
7:30 AM: The scrambled eggs Owen so desperately needed, do not, as suspected, float in his milk.
9:oo AM: No, Owen, I wasn't planning on doing the 30 Minute Shred today. If you have something to tell me, just say it.
9:30 AM: No nap this morning, off to the dump and the gym.
10:45 AM: I love the old ladies at World Gym, lifting their three pound weights in their shiny purple tracksuits.
11:15 AM: Kimberly the Yoga Instructor is here. Yay!
11:17 AM: Oh Shit. Balance work.
12:25 PM: The mere fact that we are in Prince Frederick does not mean it is time for lunch at Panera, my young carb-loving consumer.
1:30 PM: Why, Owen, why have you decided that we must change into PJs for afternoon naps?
2:00 PM: Pretty uneventful day. I'll blog about Twitter, I guess.
Well, Internets, the future of my Twitter account is in your hands.
Don't get drunk on your power.
(Oh, and my twitter account is camp1974)