Today someone asked me to describe the difference between Twitter and Facebook. I answered that Twitter is snarkier.
When asked to elaborate, I said that on Twitter people make sometimes witty and usually sarcastic comments on the world. On Facebook people brag about their children.
The man who asked me said that he didn’t think either sounded very interesting.
Maybe my description is based on who I follow on Twitter. Not a lot of my actual, “in person” friends are on Twitter. I follow famous people. Writers and actors. Sarcastic writers and actors mostly.
There’s nothing wrong with bragging about your children. If I had children I’m sure I’d brag too. And one or two of my friends have the cutest babies in creation.
I truly enjoy celebrating their milestones, seeing their smiling faces and reading the funny things they say.
But I guess I’m just cynical at heart because if I had to choose, I’d pick the sarcastic tweets over the cute babies.
Last night Michael Ian Black and John Hodgman tweeted live during an episode House Hunters International. It doesn’t sound funny, but I laughed until I had tears streaming down face. And I wasn’t even watching the show with them.
The kids on Facebook are adorable, but I’ve never laughed until I cried over something they’d said. They’re too young to be snarky enough for me.
I just went to thesaurus.com to look up another word for snarky and it wasn’t there. Why isn’t it listed? Isn’t snarky a real word?
I’m tempted to look in my real thesaurus, but it’s all the way on the other side of the room.
Normally I’m not disappointed in thesaurus.com. It always has the word I’m looking for. And if I don’t like any of the options, I can just click on one of the synonyms and it gives me a whole other list.
Plus it gives you information you don’t need. Tonight, for instance, there was a teaser at the top of the page. If you clicked on it, you learned a six syllable synonym for wonderful: paradisiacal.
Is that par-a-die-see-a-cle? Or par-ah-duh-si-a-cle? And where is the accent? Just click on the speaker and it will say it for you.
Par-ah-duh-sigh-uh-cul. I love that word. I’m going to start using it at least once a day.
You can also sign up for a word of the day email. It’s ok but, not to sound like I’m bragging, I usually already know the word.
Words like aplomb and gadabout and junket are too easy to be a word of the day. Give me something harder. Like paradisiacal. (Although I’ve forgotten how to pronounce it already.)
I’m headed to New York on Friday for the annual Association of Performing Arts Presenters conference, otherwise known as APAP.
I think I’ve written about the conference before. It’s a big long weekend of shows and workshops and agent meetings and general craziness.
For me, the hardest part of the whole conference is what they used to call the “resource room” but now call the “expo hall.”
It’s just like any trade show, it’s a huge room full of booths. But these booths have agents in them, and agents can be kind of scary.
One year, there was an agent I wanted to talk to because he represents artists that are perfect for our venue.
Now, I work for a small, unimportant venue in the scheme of things. We don’t book week long runs of Broadway shows. And we can’t pay $100,000 for a one night performance.
Because of our size and rural location, agents can tend of overlook people from venues like mine. Or stop talking to us to talk to a representative from a bigger, more influential venue.
It doesn’t help that I’m not a pushy person. I have a hard time forcing an agent to talk to me.
But I really wanted to book a few shows with this particular agent, so I went to his booth and stood.
He ignored me.
I waited and he still didn’t speak to me.
I decided that I was going to stand there until he at least acknowledged by presence. Which he did, eventually.
If this were a short story, I’d write that he was actually very nice and we went on to have a paradisiacal (ha!) working relationship.
That didn’t happen. We did talk and I have booked shows with him, but he’s still kind of a jerk. At least I stood up for myself.
Sometimes you get a happy surprise in the expo hall. I once saw Tom Bosley sitting in a booth, although it made me kind of sad that Mr. Cunningham had to go to a trade show to get work.
My best expo hall experience was when Anthony Rapp from the original cast of Rent was in one of the booths. I could never sell Anthony Rapp in concert, but I went to the booth anyway and met him.
I was an idiot and told him that I couldn’t book his show, but he was nice about it.
I was so exited afterwards that I was shaking. I’m such a Broadway geek.
Last year a friend and I headed down to St. Ann’s Warehouse to a one man show.
The first thing the actor said when he came out on stage was that it was going to get cold in the theater. He said we shouldn’t be embarrassed about putting on our coats in the middle of his show and that he expected we would all be wearing our hats and mittens by the end.
He was right. It was so freaking cold in that warehouse that I could barely concentrate on the show, and he was a brilliant storyteller.
He was so good in fact, that my friend and I are going back to see him again this year in spite of the cold. But I’m going to wear my long underwear this time. Maybe I’ll bring a space heater too.