Twitter.

Thanks to prompting from a friend, I have a Twitter account, though I almost never use it. Blogging seems desperate enough, in that my life is not fabulously interesting unless you're not me or my mum (hi mum), and, unless it's some-one who's sexually interested in one,  I can't imagine that any-one would be too interested in that fact that one is having pancakes and folding clothes.  Twittering takes the illusion that our lives and our every notion makes for gripping reading a stage too far, I suspect.

I could be wrong. Perhaps I have a stalker out there. (Hi stalker).