When Twitter changed my complexion.

on February 4, 2009 in Nash-livin', Ze Bloggy Goodness with 16 comments by

Sophie and Melanie talked me into signing up for twitter last June. I didn’t love it; in fact, it kinda annoyed me.  But I’m of the persuasion that if Sophie or Melanie tell me to do something, I usually do it.  Except this dare they gave me one time.  Let’s just say I don’t believe in carrying baby piglets in my purse.  EVER.

[Kidding.  About the dare.  Not about the piglets.]

Anyways, so in the last two weeks or so, twitter has BLOWN UP in Nashville.  Many of us have been on it for longer, but suddenly it has become our primary form of communication.  Which is challenging for your blogista here because I don’t have a trendy iPhone.  [Yet.] And twitter is best via iPhone.

Dave hopped on board, Matt couldn’t resist, Jeremy was already rockin’ it.   Jason and Evan kicked up their game- making all sorts of hang out plans via twitter, getting Andy and Skip and I always to ALWAYS play along. Seth loves planning via twitter as well, which is good.  And I seriously don’t know how, but someone convinced Mr. I Hate Twitter himself to sign up.  I, for one, was shocked.  And thrilled.

Skip says I have a disease.  ATMS Disease [Skip literally just said, “Disease?  Or you could say Syndrome.”  It’s like being friends with a medical professional].  That stands for “Afraid To Miss Something”.  Which, I’ll be honest, not only do I HAVE the disease, I’m pretty sure my diagnosis is bleak and I have a fatal case.  Cause I really REALLY hate missing fun events. Marisa has it as well, so we can console each other when we have a really severe outbreak.

For both of us, Twitter has done a good job of being a medicine of sorts.  Or a enabler.  Whatevs.

We’ve been staying out late, being all sorts of hilarious, and still trying to get some writing and moving done during the day.

So when I went to Marietta this weekend, the first thing my Mom said was, “Annie, are you feeling alright?  You look really pale.”

And in my mind I knew who to blame.  Not Jason or Evan or Skip.  [Though I like to blame Skip or Jason for most things.]

I blame Twitter.  Twitter made me pale.  Twitter made me play when I should have been packing.  Or, you know, sleeping.  Twitter makes me laugh when I should be serious. Twitter makes me irresponsible [and secretly, I kinda love it].

Twitter makes me love my community all the more.

Twitter might take over the world.  Are you on it?  Then come follow me!  And my friends (if you dare)!  And Mocha Club!

[Hey.  Are you way confused about Twitter?  Sorry.  Spence and Randy showed me this video- watch it- it should help.  If you’re reading on RSS feed, come on over.]


  1. posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 9:57 AM  |  reply

    Annie. There are a lot of things that you can talk me into. Twitter is not one of them.

    Never. Never ever ever. Ever.

  2. gulley
    posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 10:12 AM  |  reply

    You totally got me on twitter.

  3. posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 10:17 AM  |  reply

    Never say never ever ever. Ever.

    Cause I’ll get cha, Parsons. You just hang on.

  4. posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 10:17 AM  |  reply

    I know, Gulley! And I love it!

  5. Sally
    posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 10:34 AM  |  reply

    i signed up for twitter yesterday, but not for reasons you would expect. one of my accounting teachers made us all get on twitter and follow him and 12-15 of our classmates for a grade. i’ll be honest, i am completely creeped out by it all. not twitter in general, but the fact that my professor is making me follow him and other people i do not know. sadly it means i am not a fan of twitter right now.
    but i am following you annie.

    i mean come on…that sounds to creepy.

  6. posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 10:39 AM  |  reply

    Annie D is a pro on Twitter!

    And Annie P? They said the Titanic wouldn’t sink either. We all know how that turned out!!

    50 cents says Annie P is rocking Twitter before February ends.

    HOLLA!!! (on Twitter, s’il te plait!)

  7. posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 11:45 AM  |  reply

    lol, twitter is not my friend, but i am on there, everyone ignores me on it!! lol oh well, i guess i’m not cool?? hehe

  8. posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 11:46 AM  |  reply

    you are the only one who doesn’t ignore me on tiwtter, annie, and i thing chris brogan has talked to me too!! lol i am such a loser!! lol

  9. ginger
    posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 1:26 PM  |  reply

    the weird thing is when your twitter name & your comment name & your email name & your blog name (yeesh)…are all different, it takes a while to get people to follow you from all your different ‘lives’. cause we don’t all live in Nashville. 😉 who knew I was gonna wish I had only one nickname that nobody else had?

  10. posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 2:10 PM  |  reply

    So. Many. Linked. Names. How could I follow them all?

    And I’m not a twitterer either. Just don’t know that I ever will be.

  11. posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 2:36 PM  |  reply

    I, for one, am VERY glad you love Twitter!

  12. Face
    posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 3:36 PM  |  reply

    Annie, I love you and I really enjoyed the video. Great simplified explanation.

    :25 “Your friend doesn’t NEED to know that.”

    And that is why I don’t think this is a good idea. We already think we NEED to know a lot of things– 24hr news is a great example– when what we really NEED to do is get up off our a$$e$.

    I will stop there and quit the scrooging.

  13. posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 4:43 PM  |  reply

    Thanks for the tutorial! I needed it.

  14. posted on Feb 04, 2009 at 11:53 PM  |  reply

    I found you via Twitter! Look forward to meeting another local blog friend at Blissdom!

  15. posted on Feb 05, 2009 at 1:35 PM  |  reply

    ” In today’s world, it is definitely the survival of the fittest where discretion is the key to self-protection. Southern women know that and are cunning enough not to give away secrets that could be used against them or theirs.

  16. posted on Feb 09, 2009 at 1:04 AM  |  reply

    Dear Twitter: I’m just not that into you. Love, Missy

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