The calendar thing was pretty rocking when I added that layer a few weeks ago. It allows me to add someone's information as a single date or as a yearly occurrence. I can look into 2023 and see Jen's birthday on there, tucked into June. But Google Reader? It has saved me so much time. I have become an efficient blog reader. And because I have become an efficient reader, I can become an efficient commentor. Before, if I knew I had ten minutes to read, I would just read without commenting, trying to click down the list. But now, if I know I have ten minutes to dedicate to the sole blog that has updated, I can relax into the post, read, think, comment.
My only fear is the going-away-for-the-weekend thing when you come home to 3000 posts unread. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
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My other favourite thing is Googling. I have had a Googling Renaissance as of late, looking up random people that I haven't seen in at least 15 years. It's harder with women because they often change their last name, but that is just part of the fun. It's this strange idea that you can peek into a person's life without actually being close-by or interacting with another person.
And it brings into question a person's Googleability level. I am difficult to find because (1) I changed my name with marriage and (2) there is a porn star with my name and she buries any mention of me. In fact, I have pretty much never found myself if I just Google my name without additional information, such as the school I used to work for. But what about a man with an unusual name who doesn't show up on a single search? What does it mean if he's unGoogleable? Isn't that a strange thing--not a single mention of this person on the Internet?
I love hearing people's Google stories--how they've found another person through the Web. I am calling a game for the weekend: Go grab your yearbook or randomly name three people from your high school class. Write down what you remember about them from high school (or before). Now Google them and see where they are now.
My offerings:
Girl 1: a free-spirit, she was the type who would release all of the animals in the science room into the wild. Today: she is now an associate producer of documentaries.
Boy 1: good friend from home and college--haven't seen him since we were about 22. Had the most gorgeous, stick-straight red hair. I have a whole roll of film of him in my dresses with a full face of make-up. Today--completely bald (as in not a strand of hair) professor at a prestigious university in England that rhymes with Lame-Midge.
Boy 2: first boyfriend from 7th grade. Broke up with him at Hebrew School one night. Swore I'd never fall in love again. Today--only one single Google mention: a nomination for outstanding male bartender of 2004 at an all-female bar in San Diego. Congratulations, sweetie, on the nomination. Just in case you find my blog someday.
What did you undig today?
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We're trying to plan the next DC get together (of The Order of the Plastic Uterus which we affectionately call TOOTPU) to coincide with the Resolve conference in case people are coming into town for that. If you are, let us know and we'll include you in the details for the April get together. Or if you just feel like taking a weekend vacation in the DC area, perhaps plan it for April 13? Get to meet fifteen bloggers or so all at once?
We're trying to plan the next DC get together (of The Order of the Plastic Uterus which we affectionately call TOOTPU) to coincide with the Resolve conference in case people are coming into town for that. If you are, let us know and we'll include you in the details for the April get together. Or if you just feel like taking a weekend vacation in the DC area, perhaps plan it for April 13? Get to meet fifteen bloggers or so all at once?
*******
And now, the blogs.
Life After Infertility and Loss has a post about scars and the memories they each hold. She writes about literal scars, but here is also the undercurrent of figurative, inward scars. It begins with the scar on her inner arm from numerous blood draws including her recent one to prove that she wasn't pregnant when she knew definitively that she wasn't. The idea in this post that made me catch my breath was this thought: "There's also my csection scars - the lines that mark the spot where my babies and I became two separate individuals after so long of being almost completely one. With the exception of the lap scars - the only scar or visible proof I have that my angels existed at all is in the crook of my right arm. A couple of them lay claim to some IV scars. But that elbow scar - that is almost entirely exclusive to my little ones."
You're Still Young also had a very moving post this week titled "I've Been Thinking." It's about how we always thought we'd define ourselves vs. how we actual define ourselves. And I was absolutely floored by the searing honesty: "I've been thinking a lot lately about my identity. Who I was. Who I am. Who I will be. And mostly lately -- who I will never be. Not being a parent is, of course, a huge loss. Too big for words at times. Too big to capture. More than I'll ever understand I think. And one of the things that's hitting me hard of late is the identity of 'mother'. I will never know what it means to be mother. That word will always hold connotations of other for me. It will conjure up thoughts, ideas and images of other women. My own mother, first and foremost. My sister and nieces as mothers. My friends as mothers. My mother-in-law as mother. Please G-d, one day, if she wishes, my step-daughter as mother. But never me." I just sat still for five minutes after reading this post.
Eggs Benedict Arnold has a post about the emotions that pop up at odd times in the day. She writes: "I think about her birthmother (BM) all the time, too much probably. I think about all the things BM is missing and I feel sad, then I think of all the things she should have done with/for Little Lassie and I get angry. It’s an odd thing to have such a complicated set of feelings popping up at random times throughout the day. They usually pop up at inconvenient times, like when Little Lassie and I are laughing together over dinner. Thinking back on all the adoption stories I’ve heard, no one ever told me about things like this. I’m not sure if its normal." I don't know if it is normal or not, but these thoughts made me pause and consider.
Life After Infertility and Loss has a post about scars and the memories they each hold. She writes about literal scars, but here is also the undercurrent of figurative, inward scars. It begins with the scar on her inner arm from numerous blood draws including her recent one to prove that she wasn't pregnant when she knew definitively that she wasn't. The idea in this post that made me catch my breath was this thought: "There's also my csection scars - the lines that mark the spot where my babies and I became two separate individuals after so long of being almost completely one. With the exception of the lap scars - the only scar or visible proof I have that my angels existed at all is in the crook of my right arm. A couple of them lay claim to some IV scars. But that elbow scar - that is almost entirely exclusive to my little ones."
You're Still Young also had a very moving post this week titled "I've Been Thinking." It's about how we always thought we'd define ourselves vs. how we actual define ourselves. And I was absolutely floored by the searing honesty: "I've been thinking a lot lately about my identity. Who I was. Who I am. Who I will be. And mostly lately -- who I will never be. Not being a parent is, of course, a huge loss. Too big for words at times. Too big to capture. More than I'll ever understand I think. And one of the things that's hitting me hard of late is the identity of 'mother'. I will never know what it means to be mother. That word will always hold connotations of other for me. It will conjure up thoughts, ideas and images of other women. My own mother, first and foremost. My sister and nieces as mothers. My friends as mothers. My mother-in-law as mother. Please G-d, one day, if she wishes, my step-daughter as mother. But never me." I just sat still for five minutes after reading this post.
Eggs Benedict Arnold has a post about the emotions that pop up at odd times in the day. She writes: "I think about her birthmother (BM) all the time, too much probably. I think about all the things BM is missing and I feel sad, then I think of all the things she should have done with/for Little Lassie and I get angry. It’s an odd thing to have such a complicated set of feelings popping up at random times throughout the day. They usually pop up at inconvenient times, like when Little Lassie and I are laughing together over dinner. Thinking back on all the adoption stories I’ve heard, no one ever told me about things like this. I’m not sure if its normal." I don't know if it is normal or not, but these thoughts made me pause and consider.
Lastly, this final post by Matt at Maybe Baby entitled, "No Underwear? Check" not only doesn't need an introduction, it will probably does better with fewer words spoken. Just go over and enjoy it--my favourite phrase: "Pre-work testicle icing."
The Roundup to the Roundup: the Lost & Found will be out later today--Purim has thrown everything off-kilter. Eating three Petit Fours for breakfast will do that to you. Also, send in any upcoming dates (birthdays, anniversaries, blogoversaries) for the Lost & Found to my email so I can enter it on the calendar feature. Will you be in the DC area on April 13th? And go forth and Google. And then tell me what you find.
9 comments:
Google.... Gotta love Google. I am well acquainted with Google because of my job, which requires me to search out people who come to our research center (for contact info and such). I have gotten quite good at it - and, I personally, have about 3 pages of hits (almost all work related, though).
One of the other Clickers introduced me to GoogleReader months ago - and it is a good thing. Keeps me reading. :) And, commenting too.
Don't worry, if you come home to 3000 unread posts, you can always click the "mark all as read" button. I can never do that though, too anal to leave things unread.
What you need to do is get a Blackberry. I have one and it is AWESOME. You get emails (all your blog comments, all the time!) and you can search the internet. I have my Google Reader page bookmarked. Whenever I am somewhere boring (Best Buy, waiting for my husband to look at TVs he wishes he had), I just click over to Google Reader and read. Then I can keep the posts as new if I want to comment (can't comment from the phone and believe me, I have tried) and get them again when I get home. I have an extra Blackberry phone somewhere that I will send you if you want after I unpack the whole house in May after we move AGAIN. (Of course, unless the galaxies align, you might not be able to use it with your current service. My mom couldn't.)
Happy Purim, my friend.
Last week I posted my one google story of the ex-boyfriend.
Where he once looked as dreamy as a young Paul McCartnety, he is now bald, fat, cuckolded, and completely unemployable due to Tourette's Syndrome combined with uncontrollable wetting and fouling of himself.
Well, Google didn't exactly say all THAT, but...
I came across your blog and have read so many posts I think my eyes are about to bleed. I figured I'd comment on the first one. I can't say I can relate to all your material. But, i can only imagine that the same sense of out of place, loneliness is something that I have felt my entire life. I have to believe that not being able to be a mother (biologically) must feel somewhat like not having a (biological) mother. I am an adoptee and about to start my journey to locate my birth mother. Just thought I'd say hello. I am a strong advocate for adoption no doubt because I have had such a blessed life with loving parents. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Feel free to stop be and visit my brand spanking new blog: 28andSearching. Many thanks, Lisa
i love google too. I've only looked up and found a few from HS -- both married with 2 kids -- the girl married a hot doc in NYC and became a millionaire and the guy became the baseball coach at our HS. funny.
when I googled myself, I had to use my middle initial or there's no way to tell who I am. when I use the initial, it's me and 2 other women -- one's a well published professor at a midwestern univ. and one's a philanthropist in NYC. and then there's me, going way back with work-related stuff, some more than 12 yrs...
I also think it's odd too when there's no web record of someone. but I know lot's of people without a web trace... ~luna
by the way I wanted you to know I'm now an official convert to google reader. you're right, it saves SO much time! love it. thanks.
Oddly enough, most of my friends are not very googlable. That's always been bizarre to me, since I am VERY googlable. I've been on the 'net since the days of Prodigy, where the hell were all my friends??
I tried your game and unfortunately google didn't yield much. With the help of Facebook, which my younger siblings are always trying to get me to use more, I was able to find some people. I determined that my middle school friends are way smarter/cooler than me.
#1 phD student in economics at Cornell and well published
#2 has travelled extensively
#3 a professional mountain biker in NV
Thanks for the tip re: Google Reader... I spent Friday night figuring out how it works & uploading about 30 of my most frequently read blogs into it, & it is soooo much more efficient than clicking my way through my entire bloglist!!
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