Big Brother is Watching
Well, I'm watching Big Brother 8, too, but that isn't what this is about.
A friend told me about a very frightening site the other day. Zabasearch. This is a site that compiles just about everything you've done, everywhere you've lived and every phone number you've had over the past 10 to 15 years and posts it on the internet for all you know and hate to look at. Your birthdate, your addresses, your phone numbers, etc. Plus, there's the option to buy more, if you really want to know about criminal records, neighbors, the neighbors' criminal records, etc.
I spend my life trying to live under the radar. If I could live off the grid in stilleto heels, I totally would. My phone number is unlisted, I don't answer my door if I don't know that someone is coming over, I let American Express continue to address me as "Mr." on all of my mail so I can then figure out exactly who they've sold my mailing information to when I get all those catalogs in the mail addressed, also, to "Mr."
This website strikes me with horror. And fascination. And, the two of those things combined on a Sunday afternoon make...magic.
I've spent the last hour on the site, looking for lost people. Those people you can't Google, because you don't really know what happened to them and you can't find their photos so you really don't know if the guy you went to Homecoming with in 10th grade really did just walk the Great Wall of China or if he was the one who was recently arrested for domestic violence. I mean, we can hope he's a world traveller but, honestly, there's a reason you guys didn't stick it out together.
So I found out that one of my best friends in high school? Has a dream job. No, not a NCAA Basketball Tournament Selection Committee Member. That's the all-time ultimate job, really. But almost as good. He works in product innovation for Anheuser-Busch.
Now, I can't confirm that this is him. There aren't any photos of him. But the birthdate on that horrible website matches--he's a Christmas baby so there's not much mistake there. And, honestly, it'd kind of be the perfect job for him. Frat boy turns beer-maker turns corporate flak. He's cute and good at sales and likes beer. What could be wrong there?
So I'm sitting here with this phone number on a Sunday afternoon. Debating. Should I call? I can't get to the website, since my employer thinks I'm going to be corrupted by looking at beer ads at work and has blocked the site. So I'm left with a phone number. Do I call and ask if this is the same guy who once stripped naked in my car in high school? Is it the same guy that I once had to drive to his house from a party so he could take a dump in his own toilet? Is it the same guy that I once had convinced for a year that, while he was drunk, he made a pass at me? Is it the same guy who told me I had "sleeponable boobs"?
But, honestly, is that guy ever going to be the same guy, 15 years later?
A friend told me about a very frightening site the other day. Zabasearch. This is a site that compiles just about everything you've done, everywhere you've lived and every phone number you've had over the past 10 to 15 years and posts it on the internet for all you know and hate to look at. Your birthdate, your addresses, your phone numbers, etc. Plus, there's the option to buy more, if you really want to know about criminal records, neighbors, the neighbors' criminal records, etc.
I spend my life trying to live under the radar. If I could live off the grid in stilleto heels, I totally would. My phone number is unlisted, I don't answer my door if I don't know that someone is coming over, I let American Express continue to address me as "Mr." on all of my mail so I can then figure out exactly who they've sold my mailing information to when I get all those catalogs in the mail addressed, also, to "Mr."
This website strikes me with horror. And fascination. And, the two of those things combined on a Sunday afternoon make...magic.
I've spent the last hour on the site, looking for lost people. Those people you can't Google, because you don't really know what happened to them and you can't find their photos so you really don't know if the guy you went to Homecoming with in 10th grade really did just walk the Great Wall of China or if he was the one who was recently arrested for domestic violence. I mean, we can hope he's a world traveller but, honestly, there's a reason you guys didn't stick it out together.
So I found out that one of my best friends in high school? Has a dream job. No, not a NCAA Basketball Tournament Selection Committee Member. That's the all-time ultimate job, really. But almost as good. He works in product innovation for Anheuser-Busch.
Now, I can't confirm that this is him. There aren't any photos of him. But the birthdate on that horrible website matches--he's a Christmas baby so there's not much mistake there. And, honestly, it'd kind of be the perfect job for him. Frat boy turns beer-maker turns corporate flak. He's cute and good at sales and likes beer. What could be wrong there?
So I'm sitting here with this phone number on a Sunday afternoon. Debating. Should I call? I can't get to the website, since my employer thinks I'm going to be corrupted by looking at beer ads at work and has blocked the site. So I'm left with a phone number. Do I call and ask if this is the same guy who once stripped naked in my car in high school? Is it the same guy that I once had to drive to his house from a party so he could take a dump in his own toilet? Is it the same guy that I once had convinced for a year that, while he was drunk, he made a pass at me? Is it the same guy who told me I had "sleeponable boobs"?
But, honestly, is that guy ever going to be the same guy, 15 years later?
posted by Miss Head at
10:42 AM
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