When I was younger, I used to dream about going back to high school; not as me ‘the forgettable wall-flower’, but as me the confident, secure, and successful woman. Then I grew up a bit more and did what anyone with a forgettable school experience would do; I forgot about it. Okay, so maybe I blocked it out (geez, semantics!). Anyway, now I find myself smack dab back in the centre of the same experience; like a weird deja vu. Only now I’m 46, not 16. And, it’s a bit freaky-deaky. The source of my pain? The Twitterverse.
Seriously, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. The popularity contents, the attention-seekers, the great divide that exists between the ‘jocks and cheerleaders’ and the ‘kids without dates to the Prom’. There are suzy-homemakers and lads from FFA (Future Farmers of America). There are the foreign exchange students and the bookworms. There are super-geeks. (I am beginning to believe that I have a repressed love for pocket protectors.) There is even the gay best friend. It really is like being in school all over again. But for me, except for the gay best friend, those years sucked! So I am left to wonder; 1) is this a sign that I am not cut out for the Twitterverse or 2) I am finally getting my long-ago wish—in a really weird sort of way? I am thinking… neither.
Perhaps you’re thinking, “Why does she care?” Or maybe, “What does this have to do with writing?” I care because in my world everything has to do with writing. Twitter isn’t just bad deja vu; it it’s also great resource and learning experience and that is good for my writing. But Twitter is also bringing out my insecurities; and that’s not good for my writing.
So what am I going to do? Frankly, dear Scarlett, I just don’t know. For now, I’m going to continue to tweet. I’m going to continue to follow links to incredible blogs written by incredible writers who incredibleness makes me look like a 2nd grader trying to compare herself to the valedictorian. And, for now I’m going to try not to let it get to me. I may be uncool, but there is coolness in being uncool; and that’s something I didn’t know in high-school. So maybe it’ll all work out. Maybe. Whatever the case, for now, I’m there.
See you in the lunch room.
