Y2K Survivor

There we are in the final day of the conference, my co-worker sitting behind the laptop computer, hogging the machine while I sit, waiting on my turn.  As we wait, I notice the agenda for the day (that was just about to begin but she was still hogging the fucking computer that she kept acting like was a waste of time to bring.... but she sure as hell doesn't seem like it is a such a waste that she could fucking share, does it?) ... SO I glance over the agenda and I see the whole afternoon is going to revolve around communication technology.  It will revolve around communicating via the Internet and ways to create virtual societies that enhance your job.  Since I know the presenter, I can guess the subject matter of the upcoming lesson so I lean over to the co-worker and say, "I intentionally keep my blog identity private."

 

She looks at me in shock, like this was always known by the woman that goes in the comments and calls my wife and children and even ME by name then signs her name to the comments.  "OH I never would.  ...Why do you want it private?"

 

"Because mixing personal blogs with work stuff gets people fired.  I might say something that offends somebody, they may think I am talking about them and there might be times I WILL be talking about them."  I explained while looking for the core truth in my need to not have a Cris and his Last Name blog.  "I now blog for me.  It makes me feel good and I have total freedom to relate life stories without concern about hurting anybody's feelings with my hardly factual mostly fiction crap.  I want that freedom to observe and share my life on a blog."

 

OK that last part of the conversation is all bullcrap.  I never said that, but DAMN I wish I had!  Instead I think I made the "keep it on the down low" sign, which she always claims is really gay because she watches Oprah and that's what you call getting man on man prison love in the back alley of a seedy bar populated by black guys.  Which is so freakin untrue!  I know because an old retired co-worker told us you get prison love by backing your car into parking spots in public parks.  And he would know, he's single.

 

So I relax, in spite of her "Who? Me?!!" expression.  And the lesson begins and we discuss Twitter and Flicker and RSS when the presenter asks,"Does anybody in the room blog?"  I saw her arm semi rise then suddenly jerked it back down.  Then she looked at me out of the corner of her eye.  "Oops, I almost outed you!"

 

I was pleased with her control in spite of all the shocked expressions I was getting from the other people sitting at the table with us.  Very very pleased.  Even if I saved my professional reputation by accidently starting the rumor I am into man on man prison love in the back alleys of seedy bars with black men.  It could be worse, they might have thought I blog!