I am hoping it is a little but like the early stages of a romance. You know those first heady glorious weeks when you want to know EVERYTHING about the other person and spend EVERY second of the day with them, preferably in bed.
I am, of course, talking about Twitter. For so long I have said “I don’t have the time” and “What’s the point?” and “Who cares what all these geeks are up to?” But now I am well and truly in love, or at least in lust.
A whole new world has opened up. A world where I can know the results at Roland Garros almost before Rafa has hit the winning forehand, where any major news events will not happen without my knowledge and where fashion trends are only a tweet away. In fact I can follow just about everything I care about, including my children and my husband.
My favourite tweeter is a man calling himself @FrankLampardUK who is hysterically funny and always spot on. I have a fantasy that he really IS Frank Lampard and my favourite footballer is as cool off the pitch as he is on it. Sigh.
The downside though is that my husband has fallen in love too, in fact he is much worse. Head over heels, obsessive love has struck him. He spends his whole day glued to his iphone. And he’s competitive with it. He now has twice as many followers as me so is jolly pleased with himself. And is up to all sorts of tricks like a ‘tweetdeck’. And he knows what all @ and the # are all about. Clearly a mid-life crisis. But I guess there are worse ways to spend it.
I am going to spend as much of mine with Frank Lampard as I can.
Copyright:Helena Frith Powell 2011