I Googled myself today, just for fun. And it was fun.
The top search results are my two Home Jewelry Business Success Tips articles and a couple of places they've been linked, which is nice. Then comes my UCR listing as a trained Queer Ally, also nice. My Facebook page, my Twitter which I use solely for making up Starveling Cat doggerel ...
... aaaand then it gets creepy.
There is a lot of surprisingly accurate information about people on the internet. Name, age, cities lived in, relatives. And for $39.95, someone could learn everything else about me -- schools. Phone numbers. Jobs. Crime record. Neighbors. Every address I've ever lived at.
As someone who was once in a stalkeresque emotionally abusive relationship (one day, when I'm a bit more over it, I may blog about it), this scares me. As a queer woman in the South who has my own and M's safety to think about, this scares the hell out of me.
Anyway. Shrugging off. No one is that interested in me.
At that point you come into my stage-manager credit for my high school's production of L'il Abner (none of my master-of-properties credits show up, which is a little disappointing; I was good at that, and much prouder of my work, but that's cool!), and my lecture listing with Harry Potter Education Fanon for the semiotics-of-broomsticks talk, and then highly cheering evidence that one of my articles in particular has been linked all over the crafty net-world. So overall, I feel well-represented by Google. Perhaps I shall bake them cookies shaped like the Internet.
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