I have been asked a few times recently if I am likely to start a Twitter account. Each time I have snorted and answered no. I don’t get Twitter. It’s crap for stalking and it goes against my instincts: I’m a blogger; I use 1200 words to make a point that could adequately be expressed in 140 letters. How could it ever work?
But as it goes, I do actually have an account. In the C4 doc about me, they opened a Twitter account in my name so that they could include it in one of the scenes – I think they wanted to make out that I was this, like, fully media’d up modern bird who was so virtually connected that the whole world knew every time she passed wind or got laid. (The truth being, sadly, that I am a complete dunce who came out here with a £300 laptop and only a fledgling understanding of social media. I spent my first six weeks skyping with a full-on 80s microphone before someone pointed out to me that my laptop had an inbuilt one.)
Anyway, I had a look at this Twitter account earlier and was amazed to discover that I have 19 followers. Who the frig are they? Why are they following me? Do they read this blog or are they just funny people who spend too much time online? Do they hate me because I’ve only ever tweeted once? I stared at them in great wonder and felt the cogs of my enormous ego begin to turn.
Five minutes later I tweeted. I couldn’t help myself. I am officially a Twit. Or a Tw*t. However you care to see it. I hereby launch myself. And I am going to try to think of interesting and funny things to say each day.
Drop by some time. I’d love to meet you folks.