December 11, 2001

online narcissism

Funny. Just before reading Mike Sanders' entry about being Number One on Google, guess what I was doing. Go ahead, guess. Yep, I had just done my every-few-day jeneane sessum search on Google to see if I had shown up anyplace new. Unlike Mike, no one else has my name. So my personal goal with Google has been different than Mike's goal of making his way to the top Mike Sanders spot. Instead, I've been racing my husband, with the fairly unique name of George Sessum, to see how many pages of google search results we can accumulate. I'm up to five. I've left George in the dust as he anxiously waits to bump to page 3. The difference? I blog. He, on the other hand, hasn't gotten a grip on this time-consuming sport just yet.

Before I started blogging in October, googling Jeneane Sessum brought up one sad result: My unsubscribe to the Acid Jazz mailing list. Disgusted with making other people famous throughout my career in PR, I took a liking to this blogging deal (ordeal?). It gave me a chance to be author, not ghost writer. Thinker, not gopher. It gave me a reason to BE. And now I am someone. Like Mike, it's not really "power" that I feel as I push through my google results. I guess it's a feeling notariety. Respect. Acceptance. Fame. These are good feelings--and something that the day job usually doesn't afford the common guy or gal.

And as I ponder, I'm glad that all the stuff that comes up about me on Google (so far) is good. No humiliations suffered yet.

I wonder how long it will be before search engines start to offer a paid service for NOT listing specific search results... Say you posted something rather explicit on an offbeat site, or posted an online rant about your boss or mother-in-law, later to learn that Google has outed you... Would you pay to be "unlisted," like some folks do with that old hard-copy behemoth known as the white pages? It's a thought. Maybe an odd one. We'll see.

So thanks for making us think Mike. Personally, I love the idea of leaving a legacy to my daughter... One day she'll search up her mama's name and show her friends what I thought. What I wrote. Who I was. And that I talked about her an aweful lot. Hopefully she'll be over 18 though.... I think I've dropped a few curse words here and there. :-)

later...