Having already admitted that I have my brilliant virtual assistant, Andrea,
to thank for my current state of cyber-exposure, I can also safely blame her
for convincing me that I need to further expose myself on the various social
networking platforms. Cringing, I have agreed, although reluctantly. The
latest “conquisition” (I just made that up) of this last is Twitter.
Some of the social networking sites seem to be more accessible than others,
and I felt sure that Twitter would be in the “not” category, but I was
mistaken. While Andrea actually set up the account for me, I have easily
been able to post a couple of tweets and poke around on the site without
much difficulty.
As with many things new, however, there is a whole vocabulary associated
with it’s use, a language that seems pervasive among Twitter devotees, most
of whom I’m assuming are under the age of 25. Perhaps I’m wrong there, I’ll
soon find out. Learning the language of Twitter has so far proved
mystifying.
What is even more mystifying, though, is the avalanche of “follower” notices
that poured into my email inbox immediately upon my Twitter debut. Who are
these people? I have no idea who they are. How do they know me? Do they
simply lurk about some new member porthole (although in this case, perhaps
it’s more appropriate to call it a “nest”), and when a new member pops out
(hatches?), they attach like digital Velcro? Is there some sort of prize
for following
the most people? ,
It’s like being a voluntary stalking victim. Why am I doing this again?
Well, if you follow me on twitter, and use one of those cryptic screen
names, drop me a note and tell me who you are, unless of course, the point
is that I’m not supposed to know.
I’m considering the possibility of starting a new social networking site
just for the inept called Stumble Around.
LL