underpants inventory plus update

Well. I learned today that because I was stupid enough to include the name of the type of social singing I do in a couple of posts (and my profile) and ignorant enough with regard to both the basics of blog searching and the level of personal ethics generally regarded as acceptable online (hint: it's not very high), several people I know and that I have considered among my friends have been to this blog. And not let me know that they found it despite its obviously personal nature and its lack of relation to anything that could be construed as their business. And shared the link with each other.

I'm not one to keep secrets. I'm a lay-it-all-out-on-the-line kind of a girl. Just about anybody could and would get just about anything out of me in a conversation if they asked or if the talk just went that way. I share. But if I was in, say, an Al Anon meeting, which is of course public and technically open to anyone including observers, nonparticipants and supportive others, I'd probably want to know if a friend of mine who was not even in the group was lurking in the back as I shared personal and sensitive information. I definitely would not expect that friend to tell another person to come and check it out the following week and not even let ME know that they had been there as I spilled my guts.

I have been disabused of my illusions of relative privacy and safety here on my inconspicuous little artist's way blog. I don't know how this will change my blogging habits. I suppose it will change some things about what I choose to share and how I write about it. I don't know. In any case, of course it's good to be aware - duh, I know - that people search for things and that the expectation of privacy is so low here that even though I'm POSITIVE that the people in question would have KNOWN that I would feel uncomfortable if I knew they were reading, they not only didn't feel an ethical pang sufficient to move them to stop reading, let alone let me know they found it, they also spread the word. Next time I notice their skirt tucked into the back of their pantyhose, I'll be sure to tell three friends but not them. And the sad thing is, even though this feels very icky to me, a) I accept responsibility since it's true that I was really ignorant about blogging, and b) to not tell anyone something like that would be IMPOSSIBLE for me. That would be like returning a lost wallet but keeping the cash. I just ain't put together that way.

Anyway, in honor of ALL of my readers and visitors, because I'm such hot shit and I have no secrets, I thought I'd share the following: I have an entire lingerie chest plus two dresser drawers full of underwear. I own something like forty bras. I mostly wear string bikinis and thongs, but I do own a few pairs of granny panties for those times when I need a smoother line and anything else would make me sweaty. I have several contraptions involving garters, but I buy them mostly to wear with tights I've turned into stockings because the proportions of my lusciously curvy, amazonian body do not tend to fall within the shaded areas of the sizing chart. Lycra is a very good friend of mine. I love to wear the stuff that makes me feel like a scuba diver under my form-fitting dresses. What else... oh yeah, 36 or 38A. Which is funny. 'Cause A is small. And I am large. Lucky for me, my voluptuous hips are balanced nicely by my broad strong shoulders. And relatively prominent collar bones. Muy caliente!

As for all the other sensitive material here, well, that's just more indication of my fabulousness. I am real. It's all true. I haven't written a single word of it to impress anybody - until this post, that is. And this post is all you'll ever get from me along those lines.



Thursday, April 20th

UPDATE

It turns out that while a couple people were aware that I was unlikely to know my blog was so findable or that it was being read by people I know (and one of them stopped reading, and the other got her courage up about the inevitably uncomfortable exchange and let me know, which is cool), two out of three of the people whom I hadn't spoken to before posting but was so sure were aware I'd feel uncomfortable if I knew they were reading told me that they actually never considered that possibility, since the internet is public and since I am generally so frank and out there anyway. It was hard to see at first, but I have no reason not to believe them.

So. I don't know who else might be out there reading or having read , and I don't know what their thoughts or motivations may be. (And I'm already past caring.) But if this sampling is at all representative, my lessons are as follows: 1) the obvious one about the technically public nature and searchability of blogs, 2) the matter-of-fact lack of any sense of the idea that something might be "personal" or "private" (as in, oops, I wasn't meant to see this) that many blog readers and searchers apparently operate from as part of their understanding of the medium, even with writers they may know personally, and 3) I could be more careful about not making assumptions or jumping to conclusions about others' thoughts or motivations, no matter how things look. (I hate it when people do that to me! I definitely don't want to do that.)

I'm feeling just fine. I made the choice to be somewhat identifiable (first name, photo, name of singing) with you guys, and I'm living with the consequences of that choice, as well as with the consequences of my innocent technological ignorance. I'm grateful for the support and kindness I've received since revealing that I felt betrayed. I feel good about my own behavior and my handling of this unpleasantness. I am certainly not embarrassed about anything contained here in my blog, though it's sad and bothersome to me that some humans may tend to seek out perceived weaknesses in others in order to exploit them or to make themselves feel somehow cooler or better. I don't know how mean or judgemental could ever equal cool or better. But I guess that's how I do judgemental. Anyway, lessons learned. Onward.