When Tom and Laura head off for weekend YMCA camping, the first thing that I do on Friday afternoon is put on my pajamas, and the last thing that I do on Sunday afternoon is change back into clothes. Usually a bubble bath, Van Morrison on the iPod, and a cup of green tea, followed by a clean pair of pajamas are involved in my Saturday plans. Just saying.

I like to while away the hours reading blogs and writing. One weekend last year, I watched every episode back-to-back of season one of The Tudors. (I could totally lose my head over Jonathan Rhys Meyers’ Henry the VIII, by the way.) Sometimes I tackle big projects, like de-cluttering a closet, my desk, or, once, the entire garage.

I’m a wild woman.

Last weekend, however, I did something out of character for me and took off my pajamas twenty-four hours earlier than usual. I put on clothes. I gave myself an Adam Lambert-tribute manicure. And then I went out. With people. Or, as the case may be, tweeple.

Earlier in the week, San Diego Momma sent around an email suggesting that some of us San Diego bloggers attend a fundraising tweetup at the Hard Rock Hotel. It was some sort of event at which tweeple and bloggers, including moms, would gather for a fundraiser to benefit other moms in Kenya.

Whoa. Let’s back this post up a paragraph or two. Tweetup? A gathering of tweeple for social and business networking. Tweeple? Tweeple are people who tweet. Tweet? What tweeples do on Twitter. Twitter? Do I have to explain everything? Check this out. My smart, beautiful, young, and hip friend Sarah explains it way better than I ever could. Welcome to the Twitterverse.

I picked up my wife and drove her downtown to meet San Diego Momma and some other tweeple. The tweetup was on the roof of the Hard Rock Hotel. We were asked to put on nametags with our Twitter names, which we did. At the bar, we were told that proceeds from the purchase of blueberry martinis would benefit moms in Kenya. So my wife drank only blueberry martinis that night. She’s very generous that way. Midway through her first martini (with actual blueberries in the glass), Kate declared that it was just like drinking blueberry pancakes. By the end of the night, my wife had polished off a short stack. Kenya thanks her. I was driving home, and, thus, drinking club soda with lime. San Diego thanks moi.

We sat by one of the many outdoor fire pits and ordered dinner and more drinks. After a while, and many more drink orders, the Hard Rock Hotel people told us we couldn’t sit by the fire any longer unless we were going to start ordering by the bottle. WTFrick? The more expensive single-drink method wasn’t cutting it? The Hard Rock Hotel people were generally very snooty to us, but not allowing eating and drinking customers to sit by the fire? Whatever. Apparently the Hard Rock Hotel does not know that one blogger will mention this in a post bloggers are a powerful demographic.

During the evening a man introduced himself, and asked me what I do. I froze like a deer in the headlights. I fancy myself to be an accomplished dilettante, but that says more about what I don’t do, which wasn’t the question. I briefly considered saying off-duty DEA agent or Seal’s executive assistant, but I settled on the truth, “I used to practice law, but now I’m a SAHM and a blogger.” He told me he was a social networking something or other and a blogger something else and an online resource something I’ve now forgotten. Then? He asked me whether I’d monetized my blog. I returned to my deer-in-the-headlights expression. Then I said no, and wondered if that made me not cool. Add that to my list. I told him that I thought of my blog as a hobby. He nodded politely.

Later in the evening, a woman looked at my nametag, focused her drunken young eyes, and said, “I know you.” I swear before God, Buddha, Allah, Yoda, and Eckhart Tolle that after I focused my sober old eyes on her nametag, I’d never heard of her. I must have looked doubtful, because she said, again, “No, I really know who you are.” I really have to call bull to the shit on that. You see, I learned some things that night about the true purpose of nametag reading. You probably already know this stuff, but just in case? Keep reading.

Soon another woman approached and asked me if I had a pen. By this time I was starting to catch on. What kind of person would carry an artifact such as a pen to a tweetup? Me? Sure, I had a pen in my purse, but no way was I going to admit it and get thrown out of the joint. She said, “Well, then, just remember my name so you can follow me on Twitter.” She told me her name, and I nodded like I was paying attention. I have a husband and three kids, so I have the “I’m paying attention to you” nod down pretty well by now. She stumbled away happily.

Still later, a grey-haired woman was walking around with an open laptop. Her nametag had “Grandma” within her Twitter moniker, and she was apparently doing a live webcast from the event. My wife and I left at the same time that she did, and as we all got into the elevator, Grandma pointed her laptop at us while we stuck our heads into our purses. Then she pointed the laptop back at herself and spoke into it, “I’m in the elevator now, leaving the Hard Rock Hotel.”

People or tweeple, I don’t make this shit up.

As we parted for the evening, San Diego Momma reported that the strangest thing that someone asked her that night was “Have you monetized your blog?” I told her that she must have been speaking to the same guy who asked me that question. But no, turns out it was a woman who’d asked her. WTFrick? Are we missing something here besides instantaneous wealth? If we put ads on our blogs will the Hard Rock Hotel let us sit by the fireplace next time?

When I got home and was reunited with my laptop boyfriend, I found that I had a bunch of new strangers following me on Twitter, including the grandma who’d been walking around with the open laptop. It was a little bit creepy. Sorry, Grandma. That young woman who focused on my nametag and said she knew me? Turns out she was totally reading it so she could follow me. Why follow a stranger? Someone at the event explained to me that it is polite to return the favor and follow back someone who follows you. Who knew? (And can someone please explain to me how to work the dang follower icon-button-thingies on the side of the screen?)

The man who asked me if I monetized my blog? He told me he had over 1200 followers. I decided right then and there that someone who doesn’t know me, but wants to follow me just to get more followers is a tweetho. Or the person tweets for business purposes. Either way. (What are the chances that I just pissed off someone in the Twitterverse? I’m gonna say odds are not likely, just venturing a guess that someone with over 1200 Twitter followers has no time to be reading this blog. Heh.)

When Tom came home from camping, I told him that he could no longer put butter on his dinner rolls. Huh? I explained that butter isn’t good for his heart, and I was not going to let him die young, leaving me alone in this world, forced to meet people at tweetups.

I didn’t have my camera at the tweetup, nor did I use my iPhone boyfriend to take pictures because I didn’t think of it my iPhone was busy being my boyfriend. I didn’t want anyone to think I was single, although men trying to pick up on me needn’t have been my concern. Number one, I had on actual clothing. Number two, I had at least twenty years on most of the tweeple who were there. Number three, everyone we met thought Kate and I were lesbians. So, I was safe except for the tweeple who’d begun following me online before I’d left the building.

Anywho. Because I didn’t take pictures at the event, here is my artist’s rendition of Kate and me at the tweetup:

People or tweeple, when was the last time you were a fish out of water?

[Edited to add: Go see what one of my all-time favorite bloggers has done to run with the monetizeconcept. Go. Now.]

46 comments on “How Tweet It Is”

  1. I think I would feel odd, too. Isn’t the point of a FTF meeting to leave behind all the technology and get to know one another as actual flesh-and-blood human beings?

    I’m reluctantly beginning to think I have Luddite tendencies. While I do love blogging, I am resisting some other forms of technology, like twittering. Do you really need to know I’m eating an English muffin right now?

    And what is monetizing, anyway?

  2. the grandma was super weird. we’re going down the elevator now! like, are you kidding me?

    also? i had to reread tweetho four times before i got it. i read it as twee-tho rather than tweet-HO. duh. clearly i’m not qualified to attend the next tweet up. or to monetize my blog.

  3. When you write posts like this, they crack me up. I love how your mind works and how your words flow…
    If you figure out how to monetize your blog (and not with ads) let me know. As another “accomplished dilettante” I could do with the extra income.
    And I find that being a fish out of water is highly underrated – the older I get, the more fun it can be.

  4. I’m sorry it took me awhile to comment on this post. I’m still trying to figure out how to monetize my blog.

    Talk to you later.

    p.s. I’m going into the kitchen now.

    I’m making cereal now and typing this with one hand.

    I am going to the bathroom now and typing this with my toe.

    I’ll going to drop the kids off at school now.

    p. p.s. I’m walking out the front door now.

  5. Crap! I miss out on all the fun!

    I have no idea how to behave at a tweetup… or really anywhere else for that matter. It’s probably a good thing I wasn’t there.

  6. People keep asking me if I Twitter and all I can think of is “Frick No.” I tried to figure it out once then realizing I am already on the verge of being fired for blogging instead of preparing for Direct Examination in Monday’s trial, I decided I shouldn’t spend more time.

    And yeah I’m hoping I can leave the Techo behind, like, for example when I meet all you California Girls at the May BitchFest.

    Monetize? I signed up for GoogleAds like 600 years ago and have made 34 cents…..

    I keep forgetting to remove that useless button.

  7. Well, that’s the last time I ask you whether you want to monetize…

    Interesting post, had me riveted – 1200 followers huh? From the sounds of it he was a bit of a twit…so does the granny contact you on twitter? Or is she now reading your blog? Or this comment? Hello Grandma if you’re out there!

  8. I found you on twitter! How fun! I am a random twitterer (is that a word?!) , which essentially means that I twitter when I remember to and something funny happens 🙂

  9. What on Earth is montenizing blogs? (bonus! I can’t spell!)

    I am so confused by bloggers who blog for reasons other than pleasure. But I think I’m in the minority here.

  10. If I hadn’t just read this, I STILL would have known who was in the fabulous rendering. Stunningly accurate.

    Nice of you all to help the moms in Kenya. Too bad the tweeple were a buzzkill.

    I just started the twitter thing, and I’m paralyzed with indecision. Still not doin’ it right.

    I love it when you call bull shit.

  11. I thought my weekend encounter last weekend was weird. At least it was just one woman in Liquidation World. I have no interest in meeting Tweeple. {shudder}

  12. Now, why, oh why, would people assume you and Kate are lesbians?

    It took me months before I was convinced to start a blog. Now I’m supposed to Twitter and Facebook, too. Maybe in a couple years; I’m always five steps behind.

    I agree with Beth–I love the way your mind works. I can’t wait to meet it in person!

  13. “tweetho”

    It was only a matter of time . . .


    Come on. Then again, I do have that BlogHer ad. Does that .13 a month I earn count as monetizing?

    I don’t know. And, I’m fairly certain that I don’t care.

    So dig this post. Yet another reason to follow you (besides wanting you to follow me, of course).

  14. You and your wife and SDM are all too cool for school. I don’t have the balls to go to a tweetup because I am sure I would be the oldest person there. Or feel like it at least. Plus, I don’t have any hoochie club clothes, which I feel like would be requisite for a tweetup.

  15. I so wanted to come meet up with after the shoot (I was playing assistant, remember?) but I had been savagely attacked by a wave and some beached kelp. It wasn’t pretty. Plus, I got handi-blocked. I’m serious! Some eeeejut with a massive green Dodge 4×4 with Ohio plates (lest you think I’m anti-Ohio or something, remember, that’s where I was born and actually lived for the first seven years of my life) pulled in super close to my car (driver’s side) in the blue stripy area that’s meant to be the roomy part of the handicap spot. Yeah, they were obviously handicapped as well. Mentally. Their tag didn’t reflect that; I intuited it. I had to wait for 53 minutes with soaking wet shoes, socks, and jeans for them to finally show up and move their behemoth of a vehicle so that I could leave. By that time, I was tired and kind of grumpy and that kind of took over my brain. It wasn’t until I got home that I remembered I was going to go to the Hard Rock Hotel and meet up with everyone.

    S I G Hhhhhhh

    As for monetizing: Dude, I have several ads on my site. The Google ads? Nobody clicks on them so they’ve earned me NADA ZERO ZILCH ZED. The Linkworth, however, provides me with a total of about $100/mo, which is currently the most important $100/mo I’ve ever received. I did get another ad from someone, paid in advance, so that money’s already done paid bills for me. Monetizing? Unless I start writing product reviews, I doubt that’ll work for me. And I doubt I’d like it. I’d have to stop blogging. I refuse to be a slave to The Man, man.

    Oh, and I love you and Debbie and all, but I refuse to be a twit and tweet. I like having nobody read me.



    P.S. Next time, TELL ME Tom and Laura are going away. I had an extra ticket Friday night for a concert and you would have had a wonderful time! Plus, you could have kept me out until after midnight. Yeah, I’m a wild woman, too. I went to a concert and was home before midnight on a Friday.

    Da Goddess

  16. I don’t know what monetizing is, but I do like Gary’s version!
    Tweeple and tweethos….
    At least you made a nice sketch of you & Kate (great ponytail!) – it’s very accurate.

  17. A fascinating glimpse into the Zeitgeist! Thank you! 🙂 I am put in mind of yesterday’s “The View,” when Joy Behar called herself a “twitter tramp.” That made me laugh. 🙂

    I have been a Twitter hold-out so far. I think I got freaked by David explaining you can also join “Quitter” and follow all the people who DROP you when you say something they don’t like. 😉 Also, me and 140 characters? Not a match made in Twit-heaven.

    I also asked David about the monetizing thing. He said I’m unlikely to make any actual money by doing this, and it’s entirely possible that Google will decide to advertise porn on my blog. As Jarrah would say, Eeks! Let me advertise porn only of my choosing, please! 🙂

  18. ha! i’d consider monetizing my blog if i didn’t have to show ads or otherwise annoy people.
    a blog that is still pure?
    haha. that’s a laugh.
    i’d like a blueberry martini please.

  19. Ah, fish out of water. I’m learning to make myself belong no matter where I am. I wouldn’t have been able to breath in that setting, though. I would have wanted to run back home and put on my jammies.

  20. lol the people of which you speak so humorously crack me up. Perhaps the Hard Rock thought if y’all drank more you’d catch on fire and how COOL would that be?!

  21. The block button on twitter must get great use after a tweetup. You could always set your twitter stream to private as well…

    I’ve been on twitter for ages (2+ years), yet I haven’t been to a single ‘official’ meeting of twitterers. While I’ve certainly met quite a few twitterers, and been in situations where 90% of the people are on twitter, it’s more of a saturation thing.

  22. LOVE this – it touches on a ton of reasons why the novelty of Twitter is really starting to wear off for me.

    And also? I can’t believe the HR evicted you from the fireside seats – DOUCHES!

  23. This post is awesome. I totally love all of those same weekend-ish indulgences (Tudors. Obsessed. Green tea. Obsessed.). Just learned about your blog. So fun.

    sweetest living for your family

  24. holy hell…i feel like i’m visiting another planet or something…tweet..monetizing..
    I, debbie, am a Tweetnot.

    between my (very pure blog!) and Facebook, i have no time for other things…me thinks that cleaning, decluttering, doing dishes might have to come before Tweet…because Lord knows they are waaaay behind that blog and FB!!

    Blueberry Pancakes in a drink? oooh….does HR have a drive-thru?

  25. darling, I was saying his was one of my absolute favorites…ONE! Out of less than a handful, with a certain San Diegan as the toppity top ’cause she is so funny.
    His is probably my favorite gay blog though.

  26. hi cheri
    via gary rith – taking a gander, strolling round your farmyard. had a great laugh about the tweeple – just can’t do the twitter thing … overloads me little mulish brain. BIG PROPS for the Adam Lambert-tribute. He, ummm …. rocks? my daughter and i just swoon. i’ve never been so attached to AI until this year: he and little Kris make the show – oh and that powerhouse Ali-son !!

    PJ’s!! i’m all about living life comfortable. i’m considering a different set for every day of the week …. you know, like how they do panties ???


  27. I’d have been a fish out of water as well, or maybe I’d have been a twit to the tweets. I can’t figure out if I want to peep via tweet.

    I like Gary’s idea. I’ll buy something from his cat.

  28. I’m getting all knotty in the tummy just reading this. Sounds rather wrenching, except that you had Kate to laugh with, which must have saved you both!

  29. Blogging takes up way more of my limited free time than I can handle. I can’t seem to make the leap into twitterdom. Though I do follow Ashton Kutcher so that I’ll have SOMEthing in my twitter box.

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