Google: Friend or foe?
If there’s someone who can see what the Internet can do, it’s me.
Despite all the delilahs it has brought to me shaken and stirred, the Internet is still my favorite companion. How many times have I furiously chased WiFi signals on the beach so I could check my Facebook? I admit I don’t know how to have vacations anymore. At one point my friend called me the United Colors of Benetton, as I conversed with several love interests through Skype from all over the world. It made a mundane day seem a little brighter indeed. I once had a professional photographer “fix” the lights in my office so my Skype sessions would erase many of the flaws that I was born with but too chicken to surrender to the scalpel.
Of course there’s this one activity that we all love to do whether one admits it or not: To Google or not to Google one’s self? There is something about Googling yourself that’s informative and also borderline creepy. First of all, you have no control on what comes out on those search engines. I used to just straddle innocuously in between Celine Dion and Jennifer Lopez; now I’m just in a constant state of “What?” when I Google myself. There’s me with a fake blog that I did not write and several “news” items which are as false as Jessica Simpson’s lips… make that hair, too.
It’s kind of embarrassing to admit that you Google yourself, but inspiration may hit during a day of boredom. The ever-wistful Beyoncé once said, upon Googling herself, thatshe was horrified to see all the casual truths written about her. She swore never to lick the cream again.
Another layer of Googling is Googling potential love interests. May I point out that any noun that suddenly gets verbed just means trouble. Like “summering” is an annoying term, “Googling” sounds lecherous. But one cannot resist. My friend once told me with her eternal wisdom, “If he doesn’t Google you it means he doesn’t care about you.” How love and Googling have collided. Oftentimes when I meet someone exciting I just can’t help myself. We research cameras, books and even the latest shoe trends on the Internet — why not a love interest? Have that one-sided date that will give you a topiary of info.
So, with butterflies — no, make that falcons — fluttering in my stomach, I type my crush’s name with trepidation. It’s mostly boring crap like Facebook, news profiles (actually kind of surprising; I once found a seemingly low-key love interest who I thought was the most adorable nerd ever have a profile of him done by the New York Times) and more often than not learn more about their jobs. This is especially helpful when my new boy is out of the fashion arena (which is always; it’s a rule for me not to date people in the fashion industry, models included unfortunately, and Illongos because they might turn out to be my cousins). There was one guy I liked who had some blog trashing his ex-girlfriend. I had to check if that was indeed him because you never know in this terabyte world of half-truths or blatant lies. It was him, and I never saw him again.
With Google, it’s a Catch 22. Come forewarned, stay informed and don’t look at porn.
