Seven hundred and fifty-two.
These are my mommy blogger numbers. I have a Klout score of 43, 63 Facebook fans and 752 Twitter followers. Basically, as mommy bloggers go, I’m that girl in high school you liked enough, however, you weren’t overly devastated if I didn’t show up to your Homecoming party. Except if I was supposed to bring the beer. Because...then...THEN you’d be calling and telling me you really like beer me and please, please come to my party! And bring the beer.
If you’re a normal person, meaning you don’t blog about your kids’ vomit or your Xanax intake [meaning you're not a mommy blogger], then let me try and break this down for you: A Klout score is a measurement of your “influence” on Twitter. Your ‘worth’ if you will. Sort of like a credit score, except your Klout score doesn’t matter. Seriously, try applying for a loan with a Klout score. Most likely the bank will stamp your application with: WHO GIVES A SHIT.
Now, high school...high school would give a shit about your Klout score. If the popular, high-school kids were smart they’d have their Prom Queen elect dispense popularity scores. The scores could then be printed on name tags and worn by the student body. This way, none of the popular kids would get confused and inadvertently sit next to someone with a lessor Klout, I mean popularity score.
Then there’s Twitter, which is one big, school cafeteria. Everyone's thrown in there together trying to find a group to sit with. Some people tweet alone, every now and then reaching out into the Twitterverse; just a quick tweet here and there. Others have tight groups and usually mention each other in all their tweets. There are the self-congratulating tweeters: OMG, I can't believe I won another blog award! Then there are the "untouchables;" those bloggers with a high ratio of followers to those they follow. A few of those bloggers follow me, and occasionally I'll reply to their tweets, and even more occasionally they'll acknowledge my existence. And, when they do, it makes me unreasonably happy. God I can be a douche sometimes.
Depending on the kind of day I’m having, Twitter can matter to me, which makes me think I should go back into therapy, because this isn’t high school. I don’t have to worry about these kinds of things anymore, or who commented on my blog signed my year book, or how many people retweeted my tweets came to my party.
And then, there’s Facebook; the social network site that never stops confusing me. Who are ‘friends?’ I used to think that friends were friends but that was so wrong of me. Yes, Facebook friends can be friends, but they can also be people you’ve brushed up against on the bus. No one has 2,743 friends. You can have 2,743 awkward public transportation moments, but not 2,743 friends.
Anyway, I've met some fantastic, talented people through the mommy blogosphere. I haven't counted exactly how many friendships I've forged or exactly how happy those friendships have made me, but I’m sure some smartypants will think of a way to quantify interpersonal fulfillment and ruin the whole thing.