All A Twitter

It's always fascinating to see what those Krazy Kids are up to these days. Their long hair. Their rock 'n roll music.

Anyway, I got sucked into Facebook, only to find that hardly anyone I know (except for my lovely message board friends and some of my mommy friends) is on it. I think I'm too old. Social networking has passed me by (to think what damage I could've done had it been around 20 years ago boggles the mind).

Next up? Twitter.

As my friend Jen says, it's like Blogger's ADHD little brother. It's a (warning: buzz words coming!) "social networking site" that gives you minute-to-minute what all your friends who subscribe are doing. Because, you know, that's vital info. You can also of course keep them abreast of all your movements.

You can get the feed on your computer or even your cell phone. I mean, that's the rumor, anyway. I, personally, don't get it. I don't get how to read other people's twitters. I don't get how to send them. Mostly, I don't get why I'd want to.

I'm more twit than twitter when it comes to this stuff.

There is also a thing where you can follow people, which would be like cyberstalking accept I think you usually know who's following you. Or maybe not. What do I know? I'm lucky I figured out how to set up a blog (and THAT wasn't without tech trauma either!).

I wonder if it would make me seek a more exciting life. Cause currently, my twitter - if I can ever figure it out - would be something like this:

I'm up!
I'm pooping!
I'm eating breakfast!
I'm pooping again!
I'm going for a run!
I'm back from my run!
I'm making my kids breakfast!
My son is pooping!
I'm yelling at him to hurry up!
I'm wiping his butt!
I'm yelling at him to get dressed!
I'm yelling at him to get in the car!
We're driving to preschool!

And so on. There really is a thing as TMI.

The people you'd REALLY want to know about (like, you know, La Lohan, I'm always curious what people like her actually DO all day)probably don't twitter. They're too busy throwing back a couple quarts of vodka tonics whiel injecting botox into their dogs or something.

Still. The fact that I can't figure it out makes me wildly attracted to it, kinda like that dangerous looking guy with the scruff and jean jacket who sat in the back of your 10th grade geometry class.

I will make another attempt or two to set mine up. Then I'll have to move on.

I eventually did end up with a nice guy after all, you know?