~Saying Goodbye to The Most Destructive Social Media Platform on the Planet~

Today I finally deleted my Twitter accounts. Accounts - plural - because I had two accounts… a public Twitter, and a private Twitter.

But either way - they’re both gone as of today. So, goodbye - and good riddance - Twitter. 

I have had an on again/off again sorta relationship with Twitter for a few years now. But today, we formally broke up. Forever.

Like - We are never, ever, ever getting back together babe.

The main and exact reason for my breakup with Twitter will always be private and, thus, I am not going to share that with you here today. But I am very happy, indeed, to share that the relationship is over. OVER! And if anything I have ever written is deserving of an exclamation point in my writings, it is the previously typed one word sentence.

We are divorced.

Our union - dissolved.

Irreconcilable differences - Checked.

But - THIS - is not bad news.

THIS is good news.

Very good news, in fact.

You see - I am now one less person on the vast, and seedy, and quite despicable platform. One less is a sea of millions. One less droplet of water in a vast ocean of destruction.

And gosh, the waves were strong.

Like hurricane force winds taking place. EVERY SINGLE MOMENT. OF EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

Don’t get me wrong, here. There is a whole lotta good taking place on Twitter. Like - oh, let’s just say - local weather reports. Or, maybe even announcements of the special flavor of the day at the local ice cream shop. And, maybe even a Tweet from your favorite author sharing with you the title of their next and upcoming book. 

But the loudest voices in the room seem to be filled with hate in their hearts. And I just don’t have time for hate.

My private Twitter account was the one I really enjoyed the very best, and is, sadly, the one I will miss the most. It was there, behind lock and key, that I followed all my favorite people in the world. I read their daily musings and followed along as civilized society fell apart around us all. I considered it a private diary of sorts. Where I was brave enough to declare to my private little world who I really ‘had a crush on’ at the moment, and who I ‘loved’ deeply. Who would I go to the ends of the Earth for? Only my diary knows that. And the few people whom I allowed to view that sacred, private diary.

My public Twitter account, on the other hand, was very simple. And not very exciting. I had, oh, I would say, roughly about three followers, and I followed about seven public accounts - including a few bakeries. If I read an interesting piece of news, it was here that I would tweet out a link to said article. And it was here that I would find the donut of the day, and coffee of the moment. It was here that I would be informed of a 99 cent sale on medium iced coffees after 3pm at Dunkin. For goodness sake, if there isn’t anything more important in the world than to know about that sale, I don’t know what is.

But, while the public realm of Twitter can be filled with innocent coffee and donuts, and surveys about which drink is your favorite - the caramel macchiato or the peppermint latte -  Twitter can also be filled with a lot of destruction. At the exact same time. There may even be a hate-filled answer to an innocent survey question about what your favorite drink happens to be. if there is any place in the world that can turn a simple comment (Tweet) into the end of the world - it is on Twitter. The Hate was real people. Real.

And I’m guessing that as long as you haven’t been living under a rock in recent history, then you know as much as well.

Somebody always misinterprets someone else. Somebody always hates what someone else has to say. I’m not even referring to myself or my own Tweets here. I’m just referring to what I have witnessed across the entire platform. And it seems Hate breeds Hate. And the loudest voice in the room gets louder, and bigger, while the smallest voice, or the most quiet voice, gets quieter.

My own footprint on Twitter was small. Very small.

And I’m sure not one person on Twitter will miss me there.

And guess the heck what? I certainly won’t miss that blue little bird either. Bless his little heart.

I don’t think there is one single thing I will miss by not being on Twitter - except, maybe - the weather reports.

It was Twitter that I have relied on during almost all previous hurricanes that have come through during the past few years. It was Twitter that stayed on strong, and kept going, if the internet service was bad to nearly non-existent. It was Twitter that I could pop on and see what the latest forecast was from a local or national meteorologist - up to the minute reports. What was the governor saying? What was the mayor’s latest press conference? Had the river flooded? Was 1st Street under water? Twitter would keep me updated. And help keep my mind at least a little bit at ease, as I watched a storm churn and whirl past us.

So, I guess I’ll just have to get my hurricane weather updates elsewhere. Of course all of this is easy to say right now - in March - when the ten day forecast ahead of me is ten glorious days of sun. Easy for me to say now, when the upcoming hurricane season is still a few months away.

Oh well.

Many people have survived many hurricane seasons without Twitter. I’ve been one of them before. And I guess in 2021 - I’ll be one of them yet again.

I said goodbye to Twitter for many reasons. Many, many reasons, in fact. And as I said already, I won’t name the reasons themselves here. And the reasons shall remain locked away in my very own private diary. But, I am overall ecstatic to share this news with you. The news of saying Goodbye. The news of hitting the DELETE button. And I’m happy to share this news with you right HERE. And NOT on social media.

Alrighty then - I’m gonna go eat some Munchkins. And drink my large Iced Latte from Dunkin. And I’m really gonna enjoy another blustery and wintry day on my barrier island. And I don’t need that little Blue Bird to tell me the weather forecast today either. Because I just looked up at the beacon of sunlight staring right down at me. Beckoning me to get my daily dose of naturally derived Vitamin D, as I sit down to read a good book - by my favorite author.

So, Goodbye Twitter.

Tweet Ya Later. ~

​

Always and forever in the search of the best dessert on the planet - today, I’m bringing you two more ice cream adventures:

Rita’s vs. Whit’s

In a battle of wits… for Bean’s Best @ The Beaches 2020 ~ Ice Cream Edition ~

Remember when it was somebody’s birthday? Ohhhh, so very, very long ago…

Candles would be lit. A song would be sung. And the birthday boy, or birthday girl, would take in a big breath - with their lungs - and blow out all the candles.

And then everybody would clap.

The cake would be sliced. Every piece passed around - a plate of deliciousness for all at the party. Everybody sharing, in an act of celebration. Another person a year older - another piece of cake to commemorate the occasion.

A fork in one hand. A plate of frosted, sugary goodness in the other.

And without giving it a second thought, everyone would bite into their slice of dessert, even though somebody had just previously breathed upon said cake?

Sacrilege!

Those moments are now gone.

But a girl can dream - right?

No one will look at a birthday cake the same way again now.

Because, while we all still may eat the cake, the sentiment just isn’t the same. And while we all still may sing a song… and candles can still be blown out… the world has once again changed.

And I miss that corresponding sentiment.

I miss a whole lot more than just that though.

I miss it all...

I miss coffee shops.

I miss restaurants.

I miss saying, “Table for two.” - Instead of “Two dinners to go, please.”

I miss smiles on unhidden faces.

I miss laughter.

I miss jokes.

I miss friends.

I miss family.

I miss parties.

I miss the library.

I miss fairs, carnivals, rides, cotton candy, and sno cones.

I miss Art Shows, Art Walks, Art Festivals, craft shows, and concerts.

And I still don’t miss nfl football.

I miss my once a year and very boring visit to the Florida Highway Safety and Motor Vehicle Department. Otherwise known as the FLHSMV. In fact, I miss that a whole heck of a lot more than football.

And I missed out on the opportunity to see Hamilton - right here in Jacksonville, back in March. My tickets - sadly, refunded to my credit card.

I miss the smell of a book, just picked up from the library, as I crack open the spine.

I miss handshakes.

I miss milk shakes.

I miss hugs.

I miss kisses on the cheek.

I miss the darn dentist.

I miss joy and good cheer.

I miss good will to all people.

I miss Christmas.

I miss Walt Disney World.

I miss All-You-Can-Eat Buffets.

I miss unlimited scoops of ice cream, from large tubs, on the dessert line of the above-mentioned buffet. Where I can pick up my own cup, take the cold steel scoop, push it with my own hands into the milky cream, releasing chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry into my own cup. My very own ice cream mountain - as high as I want to make it.

I miss simple get togethers - large and small. I miss people’s faces when I communicate with them. I miss the act of meeting up with those fellow humans - in person. In real life.

I miss being able to hear that fellow human being, clearly, when they speak to me - their unmuffled voice carrying into my ears, and the sound of it not being blocked by a cloth mask.

I miss people treating one another as fellow human beings - and not treating others as the walking plague.

I miss closeness.

I miss happiness all around us.

I miss people leaving their house like it was just another day.

I miss life… I miss seeing other people living their lives.

I miss faith over fear.

But just because I miss all these very simple things, doesn’t mean I haven’t been doing them, and living them, myself.

In fact, I’ve been the busiest in my entire life - during the long and drawn out and quite dramatic duration of this entire, never-ending plague.

Regardless of life outside my own front door. I am breathing. I am communicating. I am celebrating. I am being responsible for myself. I am making my own life decisions. I am sucking it up. I am dealing. I am not only surviving. I am proud and happy to be fully alive. I am living.

I am reading. I am planning. I am dreaming. I am pursuing. I am working hard. I am exercising. I am writing. I am painting. I am utilizing this time to become stronger. To learn. To grow. To try new things.

And most importantly, I am persevering.

And I am coming home from work - and I’m stepping right in the shower, washing the invisible and mysterious and confusing plague off me each night.

And, I’ve learned a lot. And I’ve learned what I already always knew - how imperative each breath we take really is.

So let’s all inhale.

Breathe in - In the face of fear.

Exhale - and keep going, my friends. Exhale and continue onward. Exhale and push forward. Exhale and persevere.

And if it happens to be your birthday, go ahead and exhale a big breath straight onto your very own birthday cake candles...

Yes, I know that’s exactly what we will be doing this weekend.

As we celebrate my hubby’s birthday, we will dine out, along the water’s edge, for our First Supper since the plague began. We will sit at tables, amongst other human beings. All partaking in the common and essential act of breathing, and eating.

And I will pick up the special cupcake creations I ordered from Cinotti’s Bakery. And I will slap some candles on top of the frosted red velvety goodness. I will light the flame.

And I will sing “Happy Birthday!”

And my furry baby will probably sing a lot louder than me.

And most importantly, my hubby will then inhale with his own set of two lungs, and exhale hard on top of all the frosting, extinguishing that flame. And then we will eat all the darn sugar. ~

I remember seeing in the news recently that Universal Orlando Resort opened a new hotel on their property. That’s pretty big news for Universal, as they have far less on-site hotels than their competitor, Walt Disney World, down the street. Well, they named this new hotel the Endless Summer Resort. And almost immediately after the announcement, in some online travel forums there was talk making fun of the name. Tons of folks complained and made fun of the name Endless Summer for a hotel. How can a hotel be named Endless Summer? They said that isn’t a name. It’s more like a state of being. EXACTLY. A state of being. Universal got it and they got it good. I know exactly why they named the hotel Endless Summer. Endless Summer is not just a feeling, it’s a complete way of life down here. What better theme for a resort catering to tourists from out of state, from let’s say places like Illinois, than to evoke and market coming to stay there based on that endless summer childlike feeling we all want to savor and we all want never to end.