Tweeting is not for everybody #really

I have 11 people following me on Twitter. Nine are total strangers.
It is pretty scary that there are strangers in my life. I've been warning my children about stranger danger on the Internet for years.
It is also pretty scary that I keep sending this blog out there and that only 11 people are following me.
I am the mom who has never had a Facebook page. Yes, I am the one.
I don't really want anyone I knew in elementary school, who has not found me in the past 40-plus years, to look me up now.
When I was living in the Tampa Bay area during the 80s -- and the Philadelphia Eagles were in a Super Bowl -- a handful of those people were looking for couch surfing reservations and even tickets to the game.
I broke it to them gently -- the Outdoors Writer, who also had to cover high school football, for the local newspaper, did not get a handful of tickets to help pay her tiny one-bedroom apartment's rent.
I wasn't even going to THAT game.
Back to Facebook.
The blogging and IT gurus I have spoken to have told me that in order for this blog to get a following, it has to have a Facebook and a Twitter account. Twitter is something else I have avoided, although I hope to get in on the IPO if my Fidelity broker can make it so.

My IT Gal and I have been trying to set up a Facebook that won't disclose my real identity. We've been distracted between shopping, pedicures, an out-of-town wedding, etc., and hope to get back to that project in a day or two.
She did get a Twitter account up and running after the fourth blog was published. She Tweeted the first few messages out there to show me how it works. Now I've signed up for two seminars on the subject this week in the city.
My Twitter account journeys out there to infinity and beyond under this moniker: @musingsmom58.
That's me, Mama K.
We even found an adorable cartoon illustration to tie it in with the Musings From The Laundry Room theme (the name of this blog just in case you have not made the connection) I have going here that a few people have become loyal readers of. Two are in my Google+ circles. This is something else I didn't know I had.
In the old days you got instant gratification by publishing a story or column by your editor no longer snarling about your deadlines. You could sometimes see the papers being delivered on you drive home to your tiny one-bedroom apartment. That also meant you had stayed out too long after literally putting the paper to bed.
Back then your feedback wasn't by Tweet or blog comment. It might have been a wake-up call by the father of the high school football player you criticized in the morning paper after his big-time-college-prospect son dropped the-game-winning pass, or the excessive pickup horn blaring outside your window because you didn't mention the  name of the guy who caught the biggest tarpon of the week in your Sunday column. I kid you not.
Since setting up the Twitter account I have become obsessed with checking it to see if anyone is following me. Crap, I only have seven followers now. Where did they go?
I spent a couple of hours connecting with comedy favorites, foodies, organizations, the Obamas ... . I keep hoping that someone I have reached out to will reach out and Tweet me.
Just logged on and saw that Oprah has recommended I add a few connections. Now I am going to wake up my IT Gal and get her to remind me what my password is, so I can add a few more people to my Tweets.
There's no #stopping me now.