Why I Tweet

I am a WAHM. Working from home part time as a freelance writer, hoping to somehow turn that freelance writing and love of social networking and online media into a work from home job that can actually pay the bills. Until I do make enough to do that, I pay the bills by running a small daycare out of my home.

Up until the economy stepped in, my business was a pretty successful large family daycare, but now I have three kids that I watch (5 if you count my own) and not a whole lot of adult interaction. I started freelance writing as a way to appease the writing bug that’s forever resided in a small spot in the pit of my stomach, and then as the daycare slowed down, freelance writing became a way of making extra money and helping us survive.

As I got more and more involved in writing online and began exploring the wonderful world of blogging I found myself getting into the various social networking sites hat was becoming all the rage. MySpace, FaceBook, and others. I even opened an account on Twitter, which sat dormant for a very long time. Those sites were fun, but never really seemed to serve a purpose. Other than reconnecting with some old friends from school.

Then not so long ago I rediscovered Twitter. And Twitter moms. Within a week I was tweeting daily with moms all over the country, and then began networking with people I’d connected with on other sites I wrote for, and the next thing I knew I was following and networking with some of the biggest names in online social media and blogging. Pretty cool.

So what is it that I’m getting from Twitter that I value the most? Strangely enough it’s not the networking and the amazing things I’m learning about social media, government, and writing (though I’ve come to value those things immensely), but it’s what I like to call the “break room factor”.

I enjoy working for myself more than any other job I’ve ever had. And that says a lot, considering I’ve worked in radio. And that’s pretty fun.

The one thing I do miss though about working in an office is being part of the world. At my last job (and every job I’ve had) the break room was where it always went down. The best and most innovative ideas about work came from the casual conversations had over coffee and doughnuts in the break room.

And of course there was always advice to be given out about the kids, gossiping about Lost or who got kicked off Survivor, and commiserating about and discussing all the latest news topics.

When I started working for myself out of the home to be with my kids, I didn’t realize how much those break room conversations meant to me. In fact you could even say that it wasn’t until I discovered Twitter that I realized it.

Because for me that’s what Twitter has become. My break room. If I’ve got an idea about social networking or an article that I want to bounce off of somebody, I can tweet it and get a response. If my kids do something cute, or something that drives me nuts, I can throw it out there in Twitter and at least one mom will know what I’m feeling. And of course if I want to know if anyone else thought Justin Timberlake was hilarious on SNL last night, well you get the picture.

Twitter has kind of become the world’s break room, where everyone can get something from it. It’s out of casual conversation that the greatest ideas and innovations are born, and Twitter is full of casual conversations about amazing things.

Well, and about Justin Timberlake in a leotard, but I digress.

The Following of Wil Wheaton

My newest & latest addiction is hanging out over on Twitter. It's been fun, great networking and of course given me a chance to chat with some awesome peeps all over. And in my adventures with Twitter I managed to stumble upon the twitter account of one Wil Wheaton.

That's right, that Wil Wheaton. Since he was one of my first childhood movie star crushes, I immediately had to follow him. I waited for a follow back. Nothing. So I began my own little quest to get Wil Wheaton to follow me back (something, judging by his 21,000 some odd followers and his 70-some odd followings that would not be easy). He has yet to follow me back and has even threatened to block people who continued to send follow requests. So far, I've yet to be blocked so there may still be hope.

All joking aside, I have actually been reading his blog and really enjoying it. He even wrote a piece for the LA Weekly about music, that for anyone who has ever read my posts over at JamsBio knows is vital to my very well-being. So it seems Wil & I have some stuff in common.

What's funny is that it was his LA Weekly piece that got me thinking about being a kid, all the things I loved as a kid and how those things have stayed with me into my adult life. Things like certain songs, certain books and of course certain movies like Stand By Me.

It reminded me of the summer that Stand By Me came out, and it reminded me of my best friend during that time. I wrote about it on JamsBio last November, and decided that I would re post it here to give some insight as to why the movie means so much to me.

The other day I was looking through my bookshelf and came across one of my favorite short stories, The Body by Stephen King. This of course the story that one of my all time favorite movies was based on, Stand By Me. I hadn't read the book, or even watched the movie in ages. In fact, I'm not sure when the last time I even thought of them was.

The great thing about a favorite book, much like a favorite song, is how quickly it can take you away. An author like Stephen King or a song like Stand By Me, has a tendency to be so perfect that you somehow feel like you're in another time and another place a million light years from where you reside in reality. I opened up the book, turned on the soundtrack and let the familiar words flow over me, like hearing an old friends voice on the phone after a million years. The strange thing was the place I started picturing in my mind was not the summer of 1959 in a town called Castle Rock, but the summer of 1986 in another small town. My small town, Livermore.

Suddenly the pictures of my mind weren't of the train tracks that I watched River Phoenix and Wil Wheaton hike down that summer a million times at the Vine Theater, but the train tracks that ran behind my house. The ones where Mikey Perry lost his life a couple summers later. The tracks I would later cross every day of my high school career at least twice, until I got my license anyway. Those tracks, that old hardcover version of Different Seasons (the book that the story The Body was in), my sister, a certain movie soundtrack, and of course my best friend and next door neighbor, Laura. Hiking down the tracks as far as we could without actually ending up in the hills of the Altamont Pass.

I remember my dad putting our old green army tent in our front yard and the three of us would camp out in the front yard. I remember the hum of the air conditioner, the dreaded countdown for school to start, and the soundtrack to Stand By Me ALWAYS playing. Pictures of River Phoenix and Wil Wheaton pasted all over me and my sister's room. That summer of '86. All of these things came across my mind like a flash as I read those first pages of The Body. Tears slowly started to well beneath the surface. I quickly, without thinking about it, flipped the pages of the book until I came to the part where Gordie describes reading about Chris's death.

Laura died in October of 2005 from cancer. I hadn't spoken to her since right after Patrick was born, and even then it was only via email. I heard through myspace & my sister actually, that she had passed away. I guess her getting sick, getting diagnosed and passing away, all happened very quickly. My daughter was only 7 months old, I was busy chasing around 2 year old son, and it was the Day after Thanksgiving that they had her memorial service in Modesto. I didn't go. It's strange how the little decisions you make on a whim sometimes haunt you forever. I should have gone.

To this day whenever I hear that oh so familiar opening to Stand By Me I think of this line from the movie, "Although I hadn't seen him in more than ten years I know I'll miss him forever. I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anybody?"

So as we all celebrate Thanksgiving, I can't help but be thankful for my childhood. My warm sweet memories and the good friends that have touched my life.

I guess my following of Wil Wheaton has less to do with "Wil Wheaton" himself, and more to do with all the great memories he represents for me.