There are countless bad things looming at any minute. Car crashes, robberies, super-giant alien robot attacks all just seconds away at any point in time. For me, these things are all terrifying (particularly the robot item) but there is a fate worse than death to me. I would gladly take 15,000 robot attacks before I faced off with this trepidation.
What if someone found out about my blog?
Now, of course I want people to find out about my blog. If I didn’t, I would bypass the internet entirely and buy a diary with one of those tiny golden locks on the front of it. I’m not exactly keeping it a secret that this blog exists. I would love for all of my family and friends to read my blog loyally and to enjoy every post and thank me for brightening their lives through my writing by buying me dinner at an expensive steakhouse.
Unfortunately, I know this is not a real possibility. I have, what researchers have deemed, a “really, really, really weird sense of humor.” Not everyone has that. Some people don’t see the humor in the fact that Jimmy Stewart had what he thought was the finger of a Yeti in his bureau drawer for a few years. (By the way, totally true story. Look it up. You’ll never watch “It’s A Wonderful Life” the same way again.) Some people would rather watch “Mike and Molly” for their chortles and guffaws.
My humor does not carry to these people well, so I know they won’t become loyal readers, they won’t buy expensive steak dinners, they won’t hire a marching band to play “Hail to the Chief” while a Dikembe Mutombo parades me around town on his shoulders. (Also the plan for my funeral.) They just simply won’t get it. Nothing wrong with that, but I don’t like explaining jokes and I really don’t like explaining jokes to people who aren’t going to think they’re funny.
Worse than having to explain everything I write on my blog, though, is having to explain I have a blog. This is the reaction that people who do not read items off the internet get when they hear that you have a blog.
“A blog???” they’ll say, crinkling their noses and getting that semi-constipated look some people have when confronting unexpected news. “YOU have a BLOG?”
Once you have firmly established that you do, in fact, have a blog, the next inevitable question pops out: “What do you write about?”
This question is particularly sticky for me. In the past four days, I have written about New Year’s, the Rose Parade, Yoga boogers, and a former televangelist’s reality TV antics. I don’t have a genre, per se. I’ll end up saying something vague, such as “life,” bringing on more questions.
While these are all very possible things, the biggest fear is one that most people have. The fear of criticism.
I know there are people in the world that are not huge fans of my blog. Recently, I had roughly 6,000 readers visit a post of mine. Out of those 6,000, roughly 300 clicked that they liked the post.*This is not an excellent batting average. I’m okay with this, though, because these are just internet people. Internet people are, as far as I’m concerned, imaginary. Unless I have specifically interacted with you, I don’t think you’re an actual real human being.
I am a huge fan of this arrangement. It means that I am able to discount the opinions of most internet people because they are about as real as rainbow-colored unicorn. I certainly don’t care about a rainbow-colored unicorn’s opinion, so why would I care about internet people’s?
Unfortunately, though, this bubble between real and fake people recently burst. I was sitting at work, minding my own business, when I hear my coworkers behind me.
“Google my name, now!” said one to the other.
Now, this is an alarming thing to hear. First off, it means they are very egocentric. I would never DREAM of asking someone to Google my name. I would shamefully hide at my computer and do it myself like a normal person.
The other alarming thing, though, is that I know what pops up when you Google my name. This blog pops up when you Google my name. If Googling was going on, eventually it would make its way to me and the judgment would begin.
Coworker 1 laughed. “I’m such a good mountain climber! Hahaha!” After laughing so hard he nearly choked himself, he had forgotten that someone who climbs mountains shares his name. He was ready to move on. “Try Nathan!”
I watched. Almost as if in slow motion, his fingers began typing, sending the sound of a keyboard through the air.
The front Google page disappeared. In its place, a page of results slowly appeared.
“You have a blog?!” they both said in almost perfect unison.
“Yep,” I replied. I was acting nonchalant, but I was waiting for the storm of questions.
“I’ve got to see this!” Coworker 2 said, opening my blog to a headline that, of course, had the word ‘booger’ in it.
I don’t know what they thought. The subject died down minutes later when the two would be distracted by something else. They have very short attention spans.
The day could be considered a triumph, though. Someone discovered my blog with me in the room and I did not throw up, pee my pants or cry. I did not attempt to destroy his computer nor did I cause some sort of distraction.
In fact, it really wasn’t that bad.
I’m sure that, in the future, I will be put in a situation like this again. I know, though, that I’ll be prepared.
It’s not like it’s a super-giant alien robot attack.
*This story is completely unrelated to what I was saying above. While I was typing “liked the post,” I accidentally typed “licked the post.” I guess that would be people who liked my post a lot more than those that just liked it? You may now return to the rest of the post…