Yesterday, when I was reading Tracy Lee's journal, I became acutely uncomfortable when I came across the following passage about her feelings concerning her husband reading her on-line journal:
Not that I mind him reading it at all but [...] it makes me just a bit self conscious of what I say when I know he's checking it out. If I know he's not reading it then I feel freer with my thoughts [...] so I have to get him to not read it - at least for awhile - so I can go back to comfortably saying anything.
I know that everyone's boundaries are different, but I found myself unable to grok what she meant. Why is it easier for lots of strangers to read her journal than to have her husband read it? My comfort limits are much different -- there is nothing I would put on the net before I'd tell Darin. There might be things I wouldn't tell Darin, but in that case I wouldn't tell anyone.
The Paperwork is more like letters to friends than an intimate journal like Tracy's, and hey -- different strokes for different folks, right? Darin and I know a lot of people, and almost all of our friends are computer people as well. So sometimes I feel self-conscious when I write entries, and as a result I don't include certain things.
Tonight I learned that one of our friends does read The Paperwork carefully, and this is someone a few people in our circle of friends want to talk to about some egregious behavior. I was asked by a friend if I could put a note in here to that effect, because this behavior is on the verge of breaking up our happy little circle of elves.
Ack.
Okay guys: this oblique little mention will have to suffice. 'Kay? You get to take it from here. I'd like all the elves to be merry together again.
This concept of what I can say, what I should say, and I will say -- I have the feeling I'm going to be working on this problem for a while.
Everyone has different boundaries: what are yours? Do you feel freer online than you do face-to-face?
I'm watching Casino, which I already read the screenplay of. A lot of great camera work. And way way way too much narration, which is a cardinal sin of movie-making for a good reason. Not having to listen to three hours of Joe Pesci's nasal voice is a good reason in my book.