Forgive Me For Word-Vomiting All Over You On Twitter

How I sometimes feel when I look at my Twitter feed after the Bachelorette airs

It's no secret that blogging is a means to be heard. I want people to read my writing, so I push it out there twice a week (at least), tweet about it, post on Facebook about it and hope that people like it and tell other people about it so that even more people read it.

I want people to read it so that they hopefully become fans of my writing and one day when they need a freelance writer, they will call me, or if/when I write more things, they will buy them and I can actually have a career as a writer. I mean, of course I also want people to enjoy it and maybe even make them laugh or think, but the overarching reason for blogging, in general, is to further my writing career, because it's what I love to do. So admittedly, yes, I want to be heard.

The danger of being a blogger and constantly inundating the masses with your words is that when a couple of people start listening, you start to think all your words are necessary. People need to know what you think about X. Why? Because you're funny. You're entertaining. You're insightful. Why wouldn't people want to read what you have to say?

I stand here before you (metaphorically) admitting I have gotten caught up in this. Over and over again. I tweet commentary constantly without stepping back to think if I'm actually providing something insightful or funny or if I'm just shoving in my two cents.

Soon I'm tweeting all the freaking time without really keeping track--oh this is a funny link, oh I had a clever observation, oh let me quote this person and add my opinion, let me respond to 18 people, oh and here's my blog post---and I step back at the end of the day and wonder how it's possible that I sent out so many. Then I feel embarrassed and wish I could take it all back. And possibly quit Twitter forever.

That lasts about until the next time I have a thought about a celebrity or need to promote a blog post and I'm back on the train.

I'm willing to bet I'm not the only one who does this, but I'm willing to be the only one who admits it, if necessary, just to get it out on paper--or a screen, rather--in the hopes that maybe it will stick.

It's not like I consciously think, "I AM IMPORTANT. I AM FUNNY. YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO ME." But the underlying sentiment, if I really peel it back, is that everyone needs to hear what I have to say, and they have to hear it RIGHT NOW. It cannot wait a day or an hour or five minutes.

I think it can even bleed into my personal life when I'm in groups of people, especially ones I don't know very well. [Sidebar: these are small groups. I avoid large ones. Duh.] I want you to like me and think I'm funny and insightful and all that, so I just spew attempted witticisms about things. I love it when people laugh. I regret everything I've ever said about anything and want to run and hide when they don't.

So I'm thinking I need to keep my mouth shut more. I think I need to listen to someone else's opinions and ask more questions when I'm with people. I think I need to read more than I type. I think I need to take a beat after the initial "I should tweet that" lightbulb and see if it's still worth tweeting 5 minutes later. A lot of times, it's probably not as funny or insightful or, at the least, urgent as I think it is. Maybe people don't NEED to watch that video right this second. Maybe people don't need my all-caps rants. Maybe (just maybe) people don't care about the Bachelorette as much as I do.

Overall I'm thinking I might just need to reign it in.

You might not notice because I'll probably still tweet several times a day, but perhaps if I try really hard, I can take just one of those out of your feed and let you talk instead.

Do you ever have this problem of talking too much online? Or in person?

Twitter + Tornado Warnings = BFFs

Custom artwork by yours truly

Note: This is what happens when there are no stock photos of a Twitter bird hugging a tornado. Am I expected to do all the work around here?

I'm a worrier by nature. I'm also a rule-follower. Therefore when the "National Weather Service has issued a tornado warning for Davidson County," I take cover.

I'm not going to be the person who saw there was a warning, ignored it, and is then on the 6:00 news looking all disheveled and traumatized saying "well it had never happened before so I didn't do anything and then my roof blew off and a brick smacked me in the face. Also it sounded like a freight train."

Over the last year or so I've managed to reign it in to minor butterflies rather than borderline panic attack, so I say that's progress. But I often still find myself thinking, "THIS COULD BE IT. THIS COULD BE THE TIME. No one ever thinks it will happen to them but SOMETIMES it does!"

It's possible that because 90 percent of the things you worry about never happen to you (or so they say), I am single-handedly protecting the Nashville area with my hyper-awareness. You can thank me by sending edible arrangements and muffin baskets if you want. Or bring me coffee. I like double vanilla lattes with skim milk.

Anyway, what I've noticed recently is that yet another glorious thing on the long list of reasons why I love Twitter is that it makes storms less scary.

Suddenly it's not just you and your cat huddled in the tiny hallway bathroom, but you and thousands of other people doing the same thing: grumbling about being woken up, commentating on the local weather people, trying to determine what level of frightened you should be.

We've become a community.

NashSevereWX is a huge part of that.

If you don't live in Nashville, or if you do but you just boycott Twitter for some nonsensical reason, this guy (though I think there are now two) has a day job but still pours immense amounts of time and effort into live-tweeting weather updates specifically for Nashville. He makes maps with helpful arrows, he narrows it down by neighborhood, and most of all, he has perfect bedside manner. He tells us what we need to know without scaring us. He tells us if we should wake up our kids or let them sleep. (I of course use "our" very broadly, here.) He tells us when each neighborhood can safely go back to sleep, even if the siren is still going off. He responds personally to nearly everyone's questions. I think he even has all of his own equipment, and he does it out of the goodness of his heart. It truly is amazing.

We can all sleep soundly knowing NashSevere is out there, watching over us. He's basically Batman.

I think all of Nashville should pool together our money and get him the largest-amount gift card of all time to say thank you. How do you say thank you for something like that?

Anyway, between him and the rest of Nashville all tweeting and Instagramming our little hearts out at 3am, it really makes Nashville feel a lot smaller. And somehow safer. And almost...fun.

I KNOW I KNOW. It's ludicrous.* Sideways rain and howling winds are occasionally one percent fun for me. And that wouldn't be possible without Twitter.

Do you look at Twitter during storms? ALSO are you one of those who sleeps through bad weather or are you a vigilante like me?

*REAL TALK: I attempted to spell that word "Ludacris," and genuinely didn't know what the alternative was. So there's that. Thanks a lot, Luda. Aca-awkward.

What Instagram Can Do With Swiss Miss

It's hard to believe there was once a time when we might have felt like losers for taking a night in rather than going out. Yes, we'd sit on the couch with our beverage of choice, cue up the DVR, lounge in our comfy pants and sigh, "I bet other people are doing things more interesting than I am." But not anymore.

Now, we have Twitter and Instagram. Now we can make any otherwise insignificant activity seem like an event in and of itself.

An average night at home can turn into a Christmassy wonderland in just a few moments with the addition of some instant Swiss Miss hot chocolate, a DVD of Elf and the "Rise" filter.

Things like reading, cooking dinner or writing thank-you notes may seem mundane, but simply documenting our activities can make them into A Thing when previously they were perhaps not so special.

Allow me to demonstrate.

Exhibit A:

"Spending the evening writing thank-you notes with a glass of wine while Mariah serenades me! #thisisthelife"

Exhibit B:

"Relaxing night reading my favorite book with my favorite people! [insert Instagram photo of a book page and family in the background]"

I myself have taken part in this numerous times, and I submit that this is actually a positive thing. It's optimistic. Suddenly "man, I have to write thank-you notes" or "man, I have nothing to do tonight" turns into a little space you've created and added comforts to to make your night feel special.

But of course, it doesn't count unless no one sees it, so we have to arrange the coffee cup or the wine glass next to the DVD with the Christmas tree in the background so that others can get the full effect and be totes jeal. [Yep, I said totes jeal. Probably erased any inclination you had whatsoever to be totes jeal of me in any capacity due to my lack of coolness.]

And let's face it, the likes and comments don't hurt. If someone else says your night is interesting, then it is. Y'know? It's irrefutable. It's in writing, on the Internet.

I'm not saying I'm proud of it, but I have definitely assembled inanimate objects to represent an experience a time or two. But…I just really like Instagram, you guys. It's fun. And I'm not against things that are fun.

Have you ever used Twitter or Instagram to make your otherwise-average experience A Thing?