Enough info to destroy my world
Blog
kitt decided around 22:43 on 10 October 2005 to publish this:
Warning: guaranteed ramble that you can safely skip.
No, really.
I've been amazed at the number of people who have commented about reading
this site. I don't think I can count you on one hand any longer (Kris,
John, Megan, Mike, Paul - and two of you were because I insisted). Warren
said today that he's been feeling a little gypped with the posts as of
late, they being short and not very informative.
To which I respond, "That's because you haven't been logged in reading the
good stuff, Warren."
Since this site is more for me than for you, not
everything is publicly viewable. There are chunks of my life I'm happy to
share with my friends and family, but I'm really not interested in telling
some random person I don't know.
This is probably the fundamental difference between my introvert personality
and, say, an confirmed
extrovert's personality. I'm completely enjoying the "social web" and
participating the various social network sites. Some are completely entertaining, some
have become stale, some
are tools but still
networks, and the world it opens up, meeting lots of new and interesting
(fascinating!) people, working on projects I wouldn't have
imagined four months ago.
The whole concept of being able to learn the arc of a recently-met person's
life is fascinating, if not a little (a lot?) voyeuristic. Google and
Yahoo! are certainly a starting point, but you can also walk through various
websites, reading someone's life for the last few years, if they've been putting it out there. (Sorry,
Andy, you were an easy target and a clear example of how you can learn about
a person's last few years quite easily.)
Fundamentally, a large part of me still resists putting information out
there. Resists sharing even though I think this stuff is cool.
And part of me fears losing my voice here. Fears I might start worrying
about what "they" might think. Might stop writing as if I'm talking to
myself, and start talking to you instead.
I know there's enough information on this site for someone to destroy my
life. As Andy puts it, "I could destroy your world. I know enough about
how you react to situations to ruin your life. Fortunately, I'm not
interested in destroying worlds." How lucky for me.
But it's true: there's enough information to find me, enough information to
know what my buttons are and plenty enough to know how to push them.
There's enough information to make my life a living hell.
But, I guess I have to trust that won't happen. That the
people who read this site are my friends, or at least people who know me
somewhat or some way. If I've met you before, then, "Hey! Drop me a line if you haven't recently. If I haven't met
you, introduce yourself.
I won't bite.
Too hard.
Reading this from Bloglines or blogher? I'm sorry if this makes no
sense. You're not my "target audience," so all of this may be completely
boring.
Hell, it's boring for me, and I wrote it.
I'd say "I'm sorry," but I don't know you, and have no reason to feel
anything (positive or negative) there.
Eh.
"You have more gray hair up there than I realized. I never noticed it before."Hmph.
I've been amazed at the number of people who have commented about reading
this site. I don't think I can count you on one hand any longer (Kris,
John, Megan, Mike, Paul - and two of you were because I insisted). Warren
said today that he's been feeling a little gypped with the posts as of
late, they being short and not very informative.
To which I respond, "That's because you haven't been logged in reading the
good stuff, Warren."
Since this site is more for me than for you, not
everything is publicly viewable. There are chunks of my life I'm happy to
share with my friends and family, but I'm really not interested in telling
some random person I don't know.
This is probably the fundamental difference between my introvert personality
and, say, an confirmed
extrovert's personality. I'm completely enjoying the "social web" and
participating the various social network sites. Some are completely entertaining, some
have become stale, some
are tools but still
networks, and the world it opens up, meeting lots of new and interesting
(fascinating!) people, working on projects I wouldn't have
imagined four months ago.
The whole concept of being able to learn the arc of a recently-met person's
life is fascinating, if not a little (a lot?) voyeuristic. Google and
Yahoo! are certainly a starting point, but you can also walk through various
websites, reading someone's life for the last few years, if they've been putting it out there. (Sorry,
Andy, you were an easy target and a clear example of how you can learn about
a person's last few years quite easily.)
Fundamentally, a large part of me still resists putting information out
there. Resists sharing even though I think this stuff is cool.
And part of me fears losing my voice here. Fears I might start worrying
about what "they" might think. Might stop writing as if I'm talking to
myself, and start talking to you instead.
I know there's enough information on this site for someone to destroy my
life. As Andy puts it, "I could destroy your world. I know enough about
how you react to situations to ruin your life. Fortunately, I'm not
interested in destroying worlds." How lucky for me.
But it's true: there's enough information to find me, enough information to
know what my buttons are and plenty enough to know how to push them.
There's enough information to make my life a living hell.
But, I guess I have to trust that won't happen. That the
people who read this site are my friends, or at least people who know me
somewhat or some way. If I've met you before, then, "Hey! Drop me a line if you haven't recently. If I haven't met
you, introduce yourself.
I won't bite.
Too hard.
Reading this from Bloglines or blogher? I'm sorry if this makes no
sense. You're not my "target audience," so all of this may be completely
boring.
Hell, it's boring for me, and I wrote it.
I'd say "I'm sorry," but I don't know you, and have no reason to feel
anything (positive or negative) there.
Eh.