All A Twitter About Followers

OK, I admit it. I felt a tad bit of excitement (maybe even a small flutter) when my iPhone bleeped and I saw that Top Agent Magazine was following me on twitter.

I’d like to think there was a real person sitting in one of those spectacular corner offices trolling through all the twitter feeds and landed on my latest blog post and said, “Wowie, Zowie, Kowie! Isn’t she just an amazing and insightful realtor!” (Notice I wrote “insightful” not “inciteful” although the later is probably truer.)

I’d like to think that person then buzzed the tech department and said, “Holy Moley, let’s start following this gal. She’s fab-u-lous!”

I’d like to think that person also notified the editorial department and screamed, “Stop the presses! I think we have our next cover girl right here.”

Yeah, I like to think a lot of things.

Like how I’d spend my millions when I win the lottery.

Or what I’d say to Oprah over a cup of coffee.

Or how I’d divide my time among a vast array of vacation homes.

Yeah, stuff like that.

In all likelihood, though, the real person sitting in one of those spectacular corner offices probably never even glanced sideways at my twitter feed or blog posts. 

Instead, it probably was some automated search machine scooping up key words and triggering twitter follows. It was probably just sheer luck that I happened to get caught up in their net. 

Their social media folks probably think that once someone gets a twitter following notification, that person will then return the favor. Since they have 11,200 plus followers, it appears to be working.

My social media folks are just me, myself and I. So yeah, go ahead and count me in. I returned the favor and hit the follow button. Let's see if that brings me any more followers.

In the meantime, I’m going to wait by the phone for the editorial department to buzz me even though my social media folks tell me it's a waste of time. What a bunch of killjoys.

Keeping It Real & Defining Oneself

Pretty soon I will be celebrating my one year anniversary since I started my latest (ad) venture in this world of real estate.

So let’s keep it real, Missy, and take a moment for something we all are so fond of—a little self-evaluation.

I went to an interesting seminar the other day loaded with tips on how to become a real estate listing machine. And, for an additional $900 or so buckeroos, I could sign up for a seven week dealio to improve my business life.

I wavered back and forth with the quintessential dilemma of “should I?” or “shouldn’t I?”  Right now, I just couldn’t squeeze it in with all the other stuff in my life. 

But all of that got me thinking, and jeepers creepers, we all know what happens when that happens. 

I kept thinking and stumbling over the word “salesperson.”  

I stumbled because I just don’t view myself as a salesperson, even though that apparently is the underlying definition of a real estate agent.

So that and because of my schedule, I put away my pen and didn't sign up (much to the chagrin of some of my office buddies).

I guess I’ve always defined myself differently. I view myself more as that person who wants to sit across the table from you and chat over a cup of coffee and guide you through the home buying or selling process.  That picture, at least to me, doesn’t quite fit under the traditional definition of “salesperson.”

I guess that’s because at my inner core I remain a teacher. I just changed my classroom from an industrial brick building and rows of desks to the comfort of your home and kitchen table.

Let’s see how that all works out for me in the coming year and whether that makes me a listing loser or winner.