Invitation To My Twitter Party

I know I’ve blogged about Twitter before (and I still can’t believe I’m out there twatting with the best of them) but, because I know so many of my blog followers are Twitterers, it got me thinking about the virtual friendships that are made on the site and what it would be like if I threw a (real) Twitter Party for my favourite followers.

Can you imagine a night filled with all your best Twitterers?  No keyboards, phones or 140 character limit - face to face interaction!

Scary, isn’t it?  It’s the equivalent of having a pen pal (for those of us who are old enough to remember) and then actually getting to meet them.

Some are totally honest (and brave) and put their true photo as their avatar. Then you get the authors (like me), who choose to use their book cover, or business people who promote their logo.  But I suppose you also have to consider those who choose a picture of ‘gorgeous pin-up girl’ when they’re actually a six foot trucker.  Could get confusing couldn’t it?

Even when we don’t see an actual photo of our Twitter Buddy, we conjure up an image based on the chat we have with them - they share a common interest, make us laugh or give us a lift on a bad day.

My Twitter Party would be filled with mummies, crafters, bakers, writers, cow-lovers (you know who you are!) and generally like-minded men & women of all persuasions - nothing like a handful of homosexuals (Ooh, Matron) to keep the bitching in order (or not!)

And what a fun-filled evening it would be.  First we’d have the shy introductions over cocktails.  Maybe, in the spirit of Twitter, it would be a good idea to keep intros to the minimum (because you always get those who would like to use 800 characters when 140 would do) and then retweet (introduce) your best Twitter pal to the rest of the group.

Gradually, as the drink flowed, we’d start to put names to avatars and realise who it is who has the weak bladder, who’s just got over thrush and who likes to dress in stockings and suspenders on a Wednesday - yes all these things are shared in the Land of Twit.

As the music started up (of the cheesiest and campest variety of course) the boogying would begin.  Grans would be twirling, Mums would be jiving and the joint would be jumping.

Then we’d move on to the part of the evening when people feel more relaxed and hit their comfort zone - long dreamt of snogs might occur, heartfelt losses shared or the perfect shortbread recipe exchanged.

For me, I’d be the one on the dance floor strutting my stuff to, “It’s Raining Men”.  And I can picture exactly who’d be out there doing it with me!

And that’s how it will have to remain - a picture in my head - because this fantasy will never happen.  The moment you shatter Twitter’s anonymity and actually get to know the people you can offload to outside your usual circle, they’d be numbers on your mobile, dates in the diary and Facebook contacts instead and you’d have to start Twittering all over again!

But can you imagine anything crazier than a Twitter Party?

Diary of a Mummy Misfit is available on Amazon for Kindle.  Now also in paperback at Lulu.