I’ve been a twit for a whole year

Social media freaks me out. Everything is so incredibly public – people blithely share their lives with the entire world. Myself included … I think that’s what scares me most. Writing this virtual “diary” – that absolutely anyone can read – will have to come back and bite me one day. Hang on, I just remembered, it already has …

Twitter is the freakiest of them all. It’s like texting a few hundred friends – and strangers – at the same time. Make that thousands/millions if you’re a celebrity. In the last few weeks alone I’ve seen celebs post pics of their positive pregnancy tests, have lovers tiffs, even propose to each other via Twitter. Romantic, no?

I reluctantly joined Twitter a year ago. And it’s been a sporadic love-hate relationship ever since.

Thing I hate most about Twitter: the cowards who hide behind fake names and spew bile for sport.

Thing I love about Twitter: coming home after a night out, wanting a chat but finding Husband asleep, so launching into mad virtual conversations instead. (Also that celebrities pose for free photos of themselves all the time, very handy for HouseGoesHollywood.)

But mainly I don’t understand how anyone has time to keep up with it.

Here’s the blog I wrote this day last year to celebrate joining Twitter:

I signed up to Twitter on Sunday. My inner-Luddite had been resisting, but a friend talked me into it. I’ve already learned some valuable lessons. Like not to tweet while inebriated. And if you do, don’t mention the words “anal bleaching”. It may seem funny at the time, but you’ll wake to discover you have followers with certain interests. These followers will be disappointed when subsequent anal remarks you make are about your child’s smelly poo. Well, you hope they will be disappointed. Otherwise you’ve attracted some seriously wacked followers. 

Removing the ill-considered tweet about anal bleaching proved tricky than I thought. Twitter requires too much of my antique computer’s memory and kept jamming each time I tried to locate my tweeting history. I finally took it down last night via my Blackberry. The tweet was prompted by a conversation at a school mums’ lunch last week. For the record: I have no idea why it came up, it wasn’t introduced by me and it followed a discussion about wife-swapping. Speculation about the exact location of Wife-Swap Atlantis continues to be the hot topic in my neighbourhood. Like Wife-Swap Atlantis, Twitter’s secret world has side-swiped me. So many unexpected friends and acquaintances are there. I’m beginning to understand why Facebook has gone quiet – everyone’s making their 140-character remarks on Twitter instead. I don’t quite understand why Martha Plimpton needs to tell the world that Cornel West loving Stephen Sondheim is “the greatest thing ever”. But I’m oddly fascinated that Jen Walshaw ate ”ham in coke for dinner done in the slow cooker”. Even I, queen of the gourmands, couldn’t come at that. The majority of tweets seem pretty dull/worthy/spruiky, but I’m told reading them becomes addictive. So I expect it will hook me soon enough. I might even manage some witty Twitty remarks that send hordes racing to my blog. Until then, I’ll follow the musings of Steve Martin, upTheStick, Charlie Sheen, Ricky Gervais, friends, Romans, countrymen … and hope the penny drops soon.

How’s your relationship with Twitter going? Non-existent? On the wane? Even more hopelessly addicted that ever? Bored senseless. Endlessly fascinated? 

PS I’m out on the town tonight …