Monday, July 11, 2016
My Social Media Awkwardness (Or, If You Get a Message From Me After Midnight...)
So I suppose I have a confession to make -- well, maybe it's more like a confirmation or reaffirmation since I've invariably talked about this plenty of times before on the blog.
Anyway, here it goes...
I can be incredibly smooth over social media. OK, so maybe the term 'smooth' is open to debate and interpretation. In reality, it's probably more like 'awkward,' but you know, let's just go with it.
I'm not exactly sure what it is, but something happens to me when my hands touch that keyboard -- and NO, I'm not talking about anything of the hanky-panky sort, either! Before long, I even find myself saying (err, writing) things I don't know if I'd had the courage to say on a dinner date over candles and elevator music. Some people get uncharacteristically bold in their Tinder swiping. Give me my smartphone after midnight and things are only amplified to the nth degree! My defenses are down and I'm saying things I probably shouldn't say to people I shouldn't be saying them to. I say things I wouldn't normally say in the daylight hours
And, well, as long as we're being all honest here, my little habit used to be really bad back when I used to take Klonopin. Those were some doozies back then, lemme tell you!
It's a weird dichotomy, indeed.
Whether we like it or not, the Internet has changed the way we flirt, date, fall in love and even marry.
Love in the age of the Internet is perfect for people like me. the sort of girls who have all the inner self-confidence to boot, but who, well, come down with a case of silentitis and awkward dorkiness. I can be whoever I want to be: the flirt, the girl of mystery, the girl who always wears her emotions - and heart - on her sleeve. And the girl who says exactly what's on her mind. The mouse becomes my heart.
Maybe it's my own version of sexting -- you know, without all the raciness and wild innuendos. A tamer way of flirting, if you will. Who knows where it will lead me in the future. Mr. Melissa Blake, perhaps? Or just an endless series of morning-afters where I jolt out of bed, grab my smartphone and wonder aloud, "OMG, what did I type last night??" Well, at least either route will be interesting... xoxo