A slightly kinder and Genesis referential subtitle of this entry might also be: I will follow you, will you follow me?
I’m currently following 25 people on my Library 2.0 “classy” Twitter account (classy, get it? Cause it’s for class and because I try not to drop f-bombs on it or talk about cheese too much. Bahaha. Oh, I slay me.). I’m following myself on my other account (which is awkward and like a 21st-century technology-driven version of a highly narcissistic split personality), 10 or 11 of all of you lovely classmates of mine, and the rest are all for ALA or books or periodicals. A few library-related accounts have actually found me and started following me before I even knew they existed, too, which is always a nice surprise.
I think that Twitter is a fantastic medium for comedy, and especially perfect for one-liners. My other account is hooked up primarily to a bunch of young, funny, and inspirational female bloggers, a few friends, and some other random accounts about food or that serve a specific purpose like Very Short Story or White Girl Problems.
My favorite moment with Twitter came one day when I was absolutely convinced that I must have been sitting next to Justin Bieber at a restaurant in Warwick (he looked just like him, I swear), so when I got home I tried Googling “Where is Justin Bieber right now?” (which actually came up as a suggested search after only the first few words), looked up to see where his tour was, and finally checked his Twitter to get the surest, most personal account of where he was. Sadly, he was sick and at his grandparents’ house in Canada, so I guess the “I sat next to Baby Bieber!” part of the story is a wash, but the strategic use of Twitter is really what I’m trying to get at here.
Not that I would have been excited to sit next to him or anything…
nickcarrawayandtheunreliablenarrators 