So I recently joined Twitter. And I did it because I was peer pressured into it by a couple of friends,
whom after a series of 4 email exchanges, convinced me that the benefits of being able to talk shit to each other through it outweighed all the reasons I hate it. So I set up an account. And there were some unintended and unforeseen consequences. I had forgotten that Twitter is unique in its ability to make you feel connected to all the famous people you are obsessed with. Unlike crapfest FB, which only allows for Liking of actors/actresses/bands/writers/comedians/politicians without any meaningful interaction on their part-- famous people have minions to manage most of their social media profiles,--Twitter is unique in that it is in real time, and offers a chance to actually interact with famous people since all they have to do is come up with brief cool shit to say every 20 minutes via their iPhones. Its also a safe way for the Terminally Famous to interact with fans since everything happens in the internets, and thus they are not forced to sign your body part or napkin or take pictures with you and your fat Uncle Francis.
So I created my account and immediately started getting recommendations of people I should Follow. I began by Following people I actually know in real life. That got me to about 17. Then I remember oh hey wait, I can Follow famous people too. Suddenly I'm Following a handful of bands, a few news outlets, and pretty much anyone who has ever appeared on Comedy Central in the past 5 years, including the entire Workaholics Cast. **Side Note**: If you've never seen Workaholics, try an episode. If you don't think its funny, we probably wouldn't get along in real life, which is fine, I have enough people I have to keep track of anyways.
Prior to this post, only a select few people know of my obsession with the Workaholics Cast,
specifically Adam and Ders. I have giant, middle school crushes, and would do terrible things to have a chance to Eiffel Tower them. I love Blake too, but think that if we ever made out, our respective curly hair would get horribly tangled and we would never escape. Plus any product of that consummation would literally just be a ball of hair with legs, and that's not fair to do to a child.
So I start Following these people. And something took a hold of me, something I haven't experienced since 6th grade. A feeling that has been dormant since JTT grew up and stopped being a super sexy 8th grader, and turned into a short, semi-feminine used car salesman.
For the next few hours, I get caught up in this nostalgia, the objects of my desire now grown ass men who act in a TV show based in a city I've never been to. BUT! The magic of Twitter will bring us together. I will somehow impress them, out of the tens of thousands of Followers, I will make myself stand out. They will know I exist. And then will love me. Because I am the shit. How could they not?
Time passes. I realize that Ive just spent too many moments of my life thinking about this. Reality set in and I am reminded of a letter I penned to Jonathan Taylor Thomas in 6th grade. At the time, I would have bet my left nut that this letter was not only going to get a response, but it was going to make JTT fall in love with me, no question. I really really wish my mom would have taken a picture of it before it was sent if only to show to future boyfriends or to take with me on job interviews. I cant remember the exact phrasing, but it basically challenged JTT and his friends to a basketball game against me and my friends...... which in my middle school mind, was a brilliant scheme, because no other girls were going to be writing to him about sports. They would be writing to him telling him how cute he was and how they wanted to marry him and make out and stuff. But I was going to engage his interests, show him what an awesome baller I was, and that sporty girls could be cute and fun and awesome too. Proof--Icebox from Little Giants, 10 years later... possible nose job. Bam.
The recollection of that letter and the subsequent disappointment in not being called within a week to fly out to California to meet my new boyfriend brought me back to earth, thus ending my 120 minute Twitter-obsession. And now I'm back to simply sending my Boos links to funny shit I find on Reddit and posting pictures of my dog, and Ive stopped trying to think of ways to engage with Famous People because for one, I'm not fast enough. They send out a request for cool new songs, or show ideas or finish this sentence Tweets, and I wake up at 6am, think of an awesome response, and realize that that Tweet was from 19 hours and 45 Tweets prior. Famous People live a life of luxury and boredom. They have time to update their crap every 10 minutes. People who are about to spend 50 minutes picking up dog shit do not have that kind of time. And that's alright with me. My life is actually pretty great. I may write a book about it some day, and entitle it "My Life". I'll be sure to keep my 16 Twitter Followers updated on it's progress.
Have a good rest of your week Boo-Diddlies
~Maria
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