October 04, 2007
Picking Friends and Noses
My officemate has been out of town for about a month now, with another month to go. Save for the three-martini lunches, I guess I'm living in some sort of ultimate workplace fantasy; I mean, everyone wants her own office, right? Her own corner office. Her own corner office with a view of the Golden Gate Bridge and downtown San Francisco.
For most people, I imagine that having one's own office means at last the ability to spread out, the opportunity to make personal phonecalls while on the clock, the freedom to take personal meetings with the secretary, or the boyfriend dressed up as the secretary *wink wink*. Even when my officemate is in town, though, I usually have plenty of room to spread, make plenty of personal phonecalls, and take not so many personal meetings because, gah, two words: industrial carpet.
So how do I find myself sucking the marrow out of this single office life? Oh boy, you're going to be sorry you asked.
1. I "do" my "nails," which, as a committed onychophage (everything sounds better in French!), means smearing a coat of Sally Hansen Natural Nail Growth Activator on my ravaged nubbins so that the next time I put my fingers in my mouth there will be lots and lots of delicious keratin for me to snack on.
2. I "pick" my "nose." Okay, okay, it's more like "I pick my nose." For the last few days there's been a tiny scabby bit (tiny, but of course it feels like a topo map of Kilamanjaro) right at the rim of my nostril, and I CAN'T LEAVE IT ALONE. It's the sort of thing a dainty sniff into a tissue won't fix. And so I pick. I was about to get all preemportily defensive and point out that it's not like I'm eating my boogery scabs (scabbery boogs?) or anything so just stop with the looks of abject horror, but then I realized that I just told you I bite my fingernails, and, um, is there a back door to this place?
3. And finally, to complete the trifecta of gross things I do alone in my office all day: I fart. I eat a lot of vegetables, okay?! And you do it too! Shut up! I'm trying to be "real" here! The thing is, having my own office means the luxury of not needing to perfectly time the Stealth Release, of not needing to test the direction of the wind to avoid cropdusting someone else's workspace. With a room of my own, I have all the comfort and security of a baby pooping in a diaper: when I want to go, I just go, even if I'm in the middle of an important business communication or a soduku. Only difference is my diaper is 15 x 15 and has access to the internet! It's the best of both worlds!
There's a problem, though. Sometime last week--I think it was the day after Big-Ass Salad™ night?--I took full advantage of my situation and, oh how to say this delicately, I put my diaper to the test. This also happened to be the day our interns were in the front office stuffing new releases into press kits talking loudly about how that was, like, the best frat party evar OMG, and so I closed my door in order to enjoy my blog-reading editing in peace. At some point I left my office to get a drink or something, and when I came back? Hoo boy. HOO BOY. Rotten potato, I challenge you to a duel.
***
And now for something completely different? Please?
Last night while perched on a barstool waiting for the bartendrix to pour my brought-from-home Mexicoke from its bottle into a pint glass so no one would know I had an "outside beverage" in the bar (note: Mexicoke in anything other than its bottle of origin is a travesty), I overheard a conversation between a triangle of hipster types that went something like this:
Hipster 1: Did you guys know that Mark has a blog?
Hipster 2: No way. What's up with that?
Hipster 3, tentatively: Um..I have a blog.
Hipster 1: You do? What do you write about on your *air quotes* blog.
Hipster 3: I dunno. Just...stuff.
As much as I'd have liked to hang around and hear more (or at least see if he revealed the URL so I could spy and find out just exactly what his "stuff" consists of), I instead just picked up my defrauded Coke and left because (1) I had to help the band set up for their gig and (2) it felt like that was pretty much the end of the conversation as far as the outted blogger himself was concerned, poor guy.
We've probably all been there. You reveal you have a blog to people who don't, and then come the stock reactions: "What [i.e., What in the world] do you [i.e., you, of all people] write about?" and "Who [i.e., who in their right mind, who on God's green earth, etc.) reads it?" Everthing--the words, the subtext, the tone--suggests incredulity (or at least doubt) that there's anything you could possibly write that anyone could possibly care to read, especially day after day after day, for years.
Most of the people with whom I'm in regular physical contact (namely, my coworkers) aren't aware of my blog (or at least have the courtesy to pretend they aren't). This is generally a good thing, as, for me, the one thing guaranteed to heeb me out about publishing my life on the internet is thinking of all those people out there reading it who I will never get to know in the same way. It's comforting, the give and take between two bloggers--I show you mine and you show me yours--but then there are all the people who just like to watch from the sidelines, completely free of the compulsion to overshare that drives so many of us in this weird little, big little community. Whenever I see a comment from someone I don't "know"--like, say, every five minutes yesterday--it honestly kind of oogs me out because WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE? I'm sure I'll like you when I get to know you--after all, we have so much in common!--but until then I always feel a bit like I'm caught under a glass dome (albeit of my own making), a kind of reverse bell jar that simulates not space-as-vaccum but space as a vast frontier full of known quantities and features but also lurking with unfathomable things and stuff (for lack of more precise words) and ever expanding out, out, out, away.
Seeing the poor beleagured hipster blogger shrink into his ironic T-shirt like that, I wanted to at the very least lay a hand on my comrade's shoulder and tell him that I get it, that I know, that I find it immensely satisfying to fill the universe of the internet with stories about biting my fingernails, picking my nose, and birthing my own gaseous planet (it was not one Big Bang but several). That said, perhaps I'm the type of freak who gives blogging a bad name and I just never realized it. Either way, it would be foolish to expect everyone out there to understand, but then that's part of what makes it special. We are all the same in being different.
Posted by Leah at October 4, 2007 02:46 PMI completely freaked out the first time someone I know said "oh I found your blog" and I flat out denied that it was mine! I've since told a few friends about it, but the thought of colleagues or the inlaws stumbling across it freaks me out a bit. Which I suppose means that I'm writing about rubbish for people I don't know! And obvs I don't know you, but a well-written fart story is always readable.
Posted by: Cath at October 4, 2007 03:04 PM
The first half of this post was just so...so satisfying, really. I mean, the whole thing was great, don't get me wrong, but there's something about the sharing of the ever-so-human side of life that gets me every time, and for whatever reason coming from you it's even better. Without confirming or denying anything, I'll just note that I have my own office, too. And I love it.
Ha HA! I have my own ... cubicle, and let's just say I apply A LOT of hand lotion by way of mask. I can't help myself, because yes, I eat a lot of vegetables too.
Posted by: jonniker at October 4, 2007 05:41 PMBWA HA HA HA HA HA HA! Agreed, this post was so immensely satisfying. The whole thing, though, for me. Not just the first half. I blogged my way through an entire 7 year relationship ... err, the last 5 years and I think somehow the blog became PART of the relationship. He knew about it. Hell, he even guest-posted when I was busy and did logos for me. But now the blog feels kinda like my bastard child. When I meet someone new, I do always double-check to see how hard it would be to find it. The Puppy was slick, somehow he picked up a hint in a random conversation that I had a blog and he searched pretty thoroughly for it. And suddenly I felt like the world's biggest ass when, after about a month of not telling me he knew about it and read it, he slipped and said a couple things that made me think, "WAAAAAAAAIT a minute. How did he know that?"
So many people do this, so why does it feel so dirty?
Posted by: Nikki at October 4, 2007 06:04 PMOk so I apparently missed Delurking Day.. so I thought I'd say hi :)
annnnddd... I totally get the whole blog feeling. I love writing and putting my life out there, but sometimes I get that reaction from a few close friends that could never possibly understand the satisfaction of blogging. btw- I totally love searching for people's blogs whom I've never met when I overhear they have one.
ciao :)
Posted by: AP at October 4, 2007 07:34 PMHi, I just found your blog by way of amalah, and thought I'd chime in. (I'm good like that!) I just got my own office, and I'm enjoying it also... Although I still occasionally do the quick look around to make sure no one noticed whatever totally gross thing I just did.
Posted by: Leaf, probably... at October 4, 2007 09:15 PMThis is exactly my concern and I haven't been able to work my way through it because I don't know anyone personally who has a blog or even reads one to talk with.If I spoke to some of my friends about it they probably wouldn't know what a blog is. I watch from the sidelines and feel awful that I read all these blogs but those people can't access my stories and photos because I'm too timid to put them out there. So for now I try to comment as much as possible so that I'm not a lurker.
Also have to mention that I love that I read the word "trifecta" twice today, here and on Angella's site.
i should have read this before my "why i love leah" delurking comment. the office farting - right there with ya. ahem. moving on.
i don't tell people about my blog unless i know they blog, too. if they find me on their own, fine, but i feel weird advertising it for fear they just won't understand. sigh.
Posted by: malia at October 5, 2007 06:58 AMOk, so the mofo delurk didn't make me want to delurk, but this post most definitey did and apparently has...
I read a ton of blogs, and barely ever comment. I just don't see the need. And, I believe it's because I use your lives (bloggers) as entertainment. I work in an academic setting that has amazingly, crazy busy times, and horribly, sludge-like boring times. And during these horrible boring times, I like to check and see what's going on in other's lives. Do they (you) honestly need to hear from me? Do you really, truly care what on earth I think about your kitchen (really, adorable!) or other random things in your life?
(Is that creepy? Because, I kind of think it is. I'm reading that back to myself and I realize, that is horribly creepy. You have no idea who I am, but I have this opinion on your kitchen and your granite countertops. And, great... I've just creeped myself out, too.)
The thing about delurking is that you get caught in this creepy situation. Which I have just brilliantly illustrated, even to myself. And, you just don't know what to do. Should I come out and introduce myself? Does this person care? I've been reading about her life for awhile and now I have to tell her I've been reading about her life for awhile? I don't have a blog to share, so does it matter? She's an editor and she'll probably have some critiques about this comment...
Oh, my goodness, this is the longest comment I've ever left. I swear, I do know the meaning of the word 'comment'. But, here I am, kind of sort of introducing myself. (My name is Diandra. I live in Southern California. I'm 27, on the cusp of 28.)
The end of this horribly long comment.
Thanks for putting yourself out there, it's rather enjoyable. I apologize for the creepiness of it all.
Posted by: Diandra at October 5, 2007 08:59 AMI, too, missed delurking day. I keep a blog about my impending new baby, but that's pretty much for family so they don't constantly ask, "So, how's it going?" I would really love to keep a blog like yours and Sundry Linda, but you are both so clever, and I am not clever on a daily basis, and I also get in to pits of thoughtfulness about things Seriously No One cares about, and also things which I wouldn't want my friends or family to know that I think about. Strangers? Bring 'em on.
Posted by: Brooke Habecker at October 5, 2007 09:48 AMIn celebration of the great mofo delurk, though a couple days late, I say hello. Quietly. Like a light tap at the window. Not a horn in your face. I discovered you through the blog, Rosalicious. And I love love love that you know how to construct a sentence. Properly. Thank you.
Posted by: Nilsa S. at October 5, 2007 10:32 AMThat is why working from is the bomb. You can leave the door open while going to the bathroom, you can scratch yourself in improper places, you can belch, pick, fart, whatever and nobody's the wiser! Except then they go write about it on somebody's blog...
Posted by: hue at October 5, 2007 10:50 AMi actually don't fart. . . i *used* to fart all the time, but i'm kind of lazy (and by "kind of" i mean "really super duper") and don't much care for doing laundry, so the day i realized that farting makes it so that you can't wear the same pants for like a week straight, i stopped farting. . .
and nowadays since i'm so out of practice with farting, i'm afraid to fart 'cuz i'm worried that something more, uh, "substantial" will come out. . .
and as for my blogging anonymity, i remember when i first started i totally dug meeting other bloggers in my little circle, but nowadays for whatever reason i've taken a 180 on that stance. . . no idea why but i kind of prefer to not meet people in my blogroll so on the rare occasions that i get invited to some get together i generally tell 'em i have to work or something. . .
Posted by: bloopy at October 6, 2007 01:01 AMWe accept!
Posted by: kerflop at October 6, 2007 11:49 AMCan I add "rotten potato farts" to the list of our similarities?
Posted by: Angella at October 6, 2007 02:56 PMI'm a farter, too. In a bad way.
But the difference between you and me is that I have a supervisor's cube in a cubicle maze, rather than my own office. You can fart in peace behind a closed door. I have to spray air freshener and pretend it's the coffee grinds in the trash that are stinking up the place.
Posted by: maeko at October 7, 2007 11:12 AMAfter my sister got married, she didn't fart in front of her husband for about two years. That is wrong on so many levels.
In college I worked at a grocery store in the produce department. The produce manager that it was hilarious to let big juicy ones rip in the cooler, where they would fester like rotten watermelons and get worse as time went on. The effect was also cumulatory over the course of a day.
OK, MexiCoke is good, but I think a close rival is Dublin Dr Pepper (Dublin, TX), that also uses pure cane sugar. Of course, DP makes some people's stomachs churn.
Blogging is so 2002, and it's so easy, even a caveman can do it.
I wasted my lone-office days (more than 3 years) on mostly doing work, until at the end (about 2002) I started blogging.
Posted by: Texas T-bone at October 8, 2007 09:11 AMAnother note on blogging: I'm jealous that Diandra hasn't seen photos of my kitchen.
Posted by: Texas T-bone at October 8, 2007 09:13 AMI love it. Okay the part of the office cracked me up! AND it is all SO true... Er, I mean I would never do any of that (okay really I do and I have a cubby but whatev get over it people...)
I also like the blog story - it is my place to bitch and moan and talk and ramble and if no one reads it fine but if some reads it better.
Posted by: Christina at October 9, 2007 06:30 AMAwesome, the things I have to look forward to when I get my own tiny office on Monday!
And it sounds silly, but one of the things that keeps my quitting blogging even when I get dissatisfied with my output is that I love reading about other people's lives and it would feel strange and unfair for me to read blogs and not blog myself, where I'm taking and not giving.
Posted by: awatersign at October 13, 2007 11:29 AMThat's supposed to say "keeps me from quitting blogging". Grr.
Posted by: awatersign at October 13, 2007 11:30 AMAhh... so true! I dread the day that people I know find my blog. Unfortunately, it may have just happened last week, as someone from a "particular city" read the entire thing front to back. Hmm... I've narrowed it down to 2 people.
I like the mystery behind it all, but I guess in some strange way, it's kind of cool to have someone out there actually try to find you.
Posted by: 180/360 at October 15, 2007 01:28 PM
