I’ve come to the following conclusion: I suck at Twitter. Transitively, I also suck at Facebook updates. I’m just not made for that kind of communication, even as much as I enjoy flitting through all of your 140-character missives to the world.
Here’s the thing: I have an irrational fear of being bored, and worse yet, being boring. I watched, in my formative years of friendless silence, how people would effortlessly tune out blowhards, know-it-alls and dudes who always have an opinion – and decided that I would try and be none of those things.
When in college, I deliberately never talked about myself on dates, choosing instead to pepper my would-be ladyfriend with enough questions to keep her talking all night. I’d save all my best lines for the Wednesday’s Child column I’d write on Tuesdays, and try to let them speak for themselves.
How I managed to do this – and still be such a dick – is fodder for a future blog, but I always understood the value of underspeaking, even if I wasn’t always able to hold myself back. The same goes for this blog, to a fault. I consider the “CODE WORD” questions to be shiftlessness on my part, and despite the great participation, I feel embarrassed to let you do my work for me. And so I say nothing on certain days, rather than hoist up something lame (which, in turn, flouts all the rules of Web Stickiness, but them’s the breaks).
And there’s the problem with Twitter and Facebook updates – in all honesty, I consider your microseconds valuable, and if I have something interesting to say, I’d rather do it here where I can explain it better, and you can comment at your leisure. I feel unbelievably goofy writing a Twitter update like this one, because I feel like there will be two reactions: “good god, that’s boring” and “well look at YOU, fancypants”.
Before any of you get self-conscious, realize that I read all your Twitter updates with genteel aplomb, even the amazing Peter Rukavina, who has raised microblogging to a Rococo art form. I totally dig on the “ambient social awareness” carnival ride, and my feelings are far from Luddite on this issue.
And god knows I’m not setting myself up as some kind of selfless Buddhist mystery, speaking only in riddles every other decade. A quick glance to the left will show how many years I’ve been doing this blog, indicating that my literary ego is chugging along quite insanely, thank you very much. But there’s something about the one-sentence update that… I don’t know, assumes too much?