And another thing...

I've almost completed one of those nifty "list" posts that I love reading on other blogs, but I'm a bit stuck. Not because of that post, but rather because of other things that happen around me to distract me from completing a single fucking thought.

Today's distraction is online courtesy.

That's a pretty popular theme, and if you've read one recently, it was most likely more eloquent and well-thought-out than this will be, so save yourself some misery and move on to the next thing you were going to do.

But for those of you who are staying for the whole show...

I'm not really one to call people out, and I hate naming names, largely because I've done some pretty awful shit in my fifty years and would hate to have fingers pointed at me every time I made a misstep.

To be as vague as possible while still making my point, I hate - HATE - how easy it is to be rude online. I could tell story after story about friends who've been flamed, or had horrible comments left on positive, uplifting blog posts, or any of a number of other things.

While walking with the kids yesterday, my nearly-fourteen-year-old daughter and I had an interesting discussion, which makes me think that at lease part of my issue is generational.

I had to nuke my Twitter account (well, I didn't HAVE to, but that's a story for another post) and as I was explaining what had happened to each person I re-followed who cared to hear about it, my daughter asked why I didn't just cut-n-paste the same message to each person that asked.

I explained to her how rude I thought that was - that each person deserved their own unique response. She didn't see it that way - she felt it would have been appropriate to copy-and-paste my response to each person that asked.

And that brings me to the current burr under my saddle - someone whom I thought I was better friends with than we apparently are inquired outside of Twitter what had happened, I explained it to them, and they made a joke (as they usually do).

And yet, nearly twenty-four hours later, they still haven't followed my new account.

Typing it out that like, it sure seems petty, but it's really the principal of the thing, I guess. Is there a message there? Is there a reason they haven't followed my new Twitter account? Do they think they have but really haven't? It could be any of a dozen, non-nefarious reasons.

But I'm reluctant to say anything - I don't want to come off as whiny. "Why haven't you followed me?" seems so pathetic. Also, I'm afraid that if DO say something and they really don't want to follow me, they will now feel pressured to do so.

So instead, I'll sit here and stew and whine passive-agressively on my blog.

And maybe pour myself another scotch.