Why Twitter = A Junior High Hallway

So, I’ll be the first one to admit it.  I do not understand Twitter.

I got on Twitter back in 2009 because like five of my friends were on it, and they were all abuzz with how awesome it was.  I didn’t understand it, but I love new things (I was all about Facebook before Facebook was less cool, and everyone and their mother – literally – was on it), so I tried it out.

It felt like I had walked onto an alien planet.  Everyone was using punctuation where it didn’t belong (why are you using the number sign like that?).  People would shorten their words to almost imperceptible combinations of letters, which seemed to spawn a new generation of individuals who did not understand how to effectively spell anymore (I blame Twitter even though it had been degenerating for awhile).  Moreover, people would talk about things that made no sense to me, and use the damn #sign (I don’t understand what #imhere2party means) and follow things and people (including celebrities?  How do celebrities have time to tweet?). 

I just felt like I was standing in the middle of a hallway in junior high on my first day at a new school, and an odd sound comes from the speakers that is not a bell, and suddenly everyone is herding past me and bumping into me and squawking random noises, and I’m like “WTF are you talking about?  Where are you going?  What was that noise?”  And then I get detention for being late to class.

So I’d post occasionally:

Apparently not, Taylor. Apparently not.

A few of my friends took pity on me, and “followed” me.  Where was I going?  The whole concept of following someone or being followed seemed like too much pressure.  That, or it felt like this:

Neither of these seemed like pleasant things.  Can’t we just be mutual friends?

So, after about a month, I just stopped logging in.  Facebook kept me entertained, and I had status updates for my daily ramblings.  Who needed Twitter?

And then…bloggers happened.

About six months ago, when I created my own renovation blog (the husband and I bought a house to flip), I would occasionally get random people commenting on it.  I’d go to their page.  Some of them were funny, others were not but had a blogroll of other funny people.  This is where I met my blog-loves.   While most of them had a Facebook page that would alert me to their post updates, some of them only used Twitter.  In the case of The Bloggess (and most of the rest of my blogroll – go read them, they are awesome), she would reference her twitter feed in her blogs, and then I would go read them, and I would laugh hysterically, and then I would follow them to read more.

This was fine for awhile, because I just kept my mouth shut and giggled.  But then I made the mistake of starting to reply to some of these tweets.

Here is the portion of our show where we are brought firmly back to Junior High.

After a month of responding to tweets, I realized that a) I am doing something entirely wrong, b) I am not funny, and c) no one gives a damn about what I have to say.

That’s the only explanation, right?

Exhibit A

1) I would post something eternally funny, like such:

Hilarious…only to me apparently.

2) Nothing happens.  No responses.

=

Taylor is NOT funny

Exhibit B 

1) Hilarious person on Twitter whom I absolutely adore writes something hilarious.

2) I respond with something I also find funny.  If it’s not funny, it’s insightful.  If it’s not insightful, it’s at least worthy of response, right?

3) A week later, they have posted ninety more tweets, with no response to mine.

=

Taylor is NOT funny

Exhibit C 

1) Hilarious person on Twitter whom I absolutely adore writes something hilarious.

2) I respond with something I also find funny.  If it’s not funny, it’s insightful.  Even if it’s not insightful, they are responding to other stuff that’s less interesting or funny than me.

3) An hour later, I receive a notification of response to my tweet.  I hungrily login, expecting them to say, “OMG!  Taylor you are my new BFF I love you forever and will you have my children!?”  (Modify accordingly to fit into 140 characters.)

4) The tweet response was, “No, I don’t like what you said, you don’t get me.”  (Usually they are nicer about it, but you know.)

5) I translate this to mean, “YOU ARE IN NO WAY FUNNY, GO PLAY WITH YOUR PIMPLES AND YOUR FLANNEL SHIRT OVER THERE, NERDO.”

=

Taylor is NOT funny (or popular)

I have just accepted it now.  I’m either committing some terrible faux pas on Twitter, or I don’t understand it.
Just last Saturday, I met up with Megan from Greetings from Texas, and I was basically hounding her until she agreed to actually communicate with me.  She was all, “Twitter me, and I’ll follow you!”  I immediately went back to my phone, and followed her on Twitter.  An hour or so later, I saw her, and I said, “I twatted you, so…”
She very politely laughed like a well-trained person (good work, Megan’s mom!), and said, “Twat!  How funny!”
That’s how much I don’t know about Twitter.  I didn’t even know how to use the correct “modern” term to describe my tweeting, or twittering, or tweet-following someone.  So I will twat them.
Most of the time, I don’t care.  Honestly, I don’t twat for other people.  I’m not that narcissistic.  But sometimes, just sometimes, I write something that I found hilarious, and then there is no response, and after eleventy billion times of that, it makes me feel like I’m in junior high, where all the pretty blonde girls with their Dooney & Burke purses, and their brand new (real) silver jewelry that stands out beautifully against their brand new clothes from Abercrombie are all talking and flipping their hair and giggling about some television show I’ve never seen before because I don’t have HBO.  And then I walk by with my permed hair and my terrible thick glasses and my Keds from Walmart, and I say something inspiring (to me), and they all turn to me with horror in their perfectly mascara’d-and-eyelinered eyes.  Usually, if they weren’t total bitches, they would just politely chuckle (while internally wondering why I deigned to speak) and then stare at me until I left.  (LIKE MEGAN DID!!)
That’s how Twitter makes me feel.  Like this:

Sadly, yes. That was me.

SO THANKS A LOT, TWITTER.
:)
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8 comments on “Why Twitter = A Junior High Hallway

  1. I giggled. I must have missed your tweet! That makes me sad.

  2. Whatever, whore. Just go curl your hair!! :P

  3. Laura says:

    I don’t remember there being quite so many spammers in junior high. Otherwise, this seems pretty accurate…

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  5. Mr. Donahue says:

    I absolutely love your blog!

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