“Tweedle-lee-dee-dee-dee, tweedle-lee-dee-dee.

Tweedle-lee-dee-dee-dee, tweedle-lee-dee-dee.

Tweedle-lee-dee-dee-dee, tweedle-lee-dee-dee.

Tweet.

Tweet.

Tweet, Tweet.”

Bobby Day, Rockin’ Robin

I just celebrated my one month anniversary on Twitter, or as I like to call it—my Twitterversary. I’m not exactly sure how you might measure success on Twitter, but I’ll share some of my Twitterccomplishments.

In a month’s time I have:

• Tweeted over 400 times.
• Amassed over 1100 followers.
• Had my tweets liked by ProWritingAid, Chipotle, the Minnesota Public Radio Raccoon (#mprraccoon), and Mark Hamill.

Yes, that’s right. The Mark Hamill. Chipotle and ProWritingAid didn’t just like my posts, they also tweeted me back. As you can see, I’ve had some pretty spectacular moments for my first month on Twitter.

Unfortunately, I’ve also seen the not so wonderful side of Twitter. Shall we call it the Twittterwrongsideofthetracks? (Okay, I promise I will stop making Twitter hybrid words.)….

Direct Messages.

As far as I’m concerned DMs are the scary back alleys of Twitter where strangers and bots offer you candy, drugs, and pics of their genitals (I guess this poses the question of what do robot genitals look like it?). I didn’t quite understand the culture of persistent DMers at first, so in my first week on Twitter I politely responded. I would say I wasn’t interested and for them to have a nice day, etc. That is not how you deal with the plague of stranger-danger in the form of DMs. You have to ignore them. It feels rude, but seriously how rude is it for creepy old men to message women half their age sleazy, leering come-ons?

How do you know the DM is from a creeper or a bot? It usually starts something like this:

• Hello pretty lady.
• Thank ye kindly m’lady.
• Hello good evening and charming lady for me a great pleasure to converse.
• Hello beautiful lady.

The above are all actual salutations I’ve received. Since I automatically blocked the worst of the worst I can’t quote them. And yes, those messages above might seem benign—just mostly empty flattery—but I am a stranger to these men. I don’t know these men AT ALL. And my profile is clearly one meant to represent my writing—i.e. my professional account. Of the accounts I blocked many have included men eager to tell me how lonely they are and how they’re just looking for love, or a good woman, or the love of a good woman. Twitter is not a dating site. Wait, am I wrong?… is Twitter a dating site? If it is, please don’t tell my husband I’m on Twitter! Hold tight while I delete my account*.

Despite the stranger-danger lurking in DMs, I think I might like Twitter. And I think I’m slowly getting the hang of it. I could be wrong though. Check out my Twitter and let me know.

*Not actually deleting my account. Just repeatedly blocking creepers.