funny now. not then.

I was just done showering, still doing the cream thing, when will comes in and asks me if I can do that thing I do with the computer where I can see who someone who's just commented is. I say yes, why? And he says: "It's funny, really." In that way that he can say something is "funny, really, if you think about it" when he knows I will not find it funny.

My thoughts immediately went to the half of England who hate him and the other half who will sort of acknowledge his presence but are still really freaked about expressing any sort of allegiance, lest the hounds of righteousness come barging through the internet and make everyone's life hell. Again. And so. I came to the computer.

It's someone pretending to be someone's dad. Or someone's dad. We don't know yet - we know now, but I am setting myself at that moment, get with it -. I check the IP. Tijuana. Not only that, but he's sent the link via e-mail to someone in Mexicali. And the initials left coincide accurately with what this person's initials would be. He came in, left a comment. He is not... aggressive. He is so not aggressive I don't even know how to interpret the thing. I am used to being misinterpreted, and people totally trying to kill me via cleverly chosen words through the internet - they've come close, once I almost had a nose bleed! -. It happens with even people I consider the closest friends, so it wouldn't be very surprising if a parent took it the wrong way.

And he's sending the link around. And stuff that is written is not always flattering. And the school! The school is mentioned. And there's all that "she lurves me" business, which, if she was ever to find it - and I'm not even going to say who, and you know and I know that it is to a) superstitiously avoid to call the demons to my home and b) realistically keep google from linking her to this page - she would be so embarrassed about that will would almost certainly get dooced.

So we got to work. Removed everything that was blatantly terrible. Is there still room for misinterpretations? Yes. But. There will always be room for misinterpretations. I know now to not care a lot about the one half of England and not find offence in the other half. I know to appreciate and love the people who stuck around, the people who in spite of having arguments with others about it - and some of them had arguments face-to-face with their friends, which, my hat off to you, Croila - stuck through with me and loved me anyway. I know to be patient with the friends who see me and know me and still think I could ever think poorly of them. I know to explain whatever I need to explain to the people I care about. In the end I can only trust that people will trust me enough to ask me "what did you mean here?" and not jump to conclusions. Worst case scenario, I will mean the worst thing they thought of, in which case it's not a loss for either of us, best case scenario, I mean the best thing they didn't think of (because if they had thought of it, they wouldn't have asked) and everything is fine, hopefully better, with a better understanding, or maybe a little bit bad, but with room for improvement. But you can only hope for trust. I don't know how much of this, if any of it, applies to the workplace. His blog is a totally different business.

Apparently this man, this dad, is cool. There have been e-mails back and forth and things are cool. We still have to be better at covering our tracks, though. Maybe not leaving any breadcrumbs would help.

Comments

[Nancy]

I'm sorry it happened. How worrisome. Sometimes I feel like I can say nothing about anything on my blog because it's so un-anonymous, and my only protection is my faith that no one outside of a very small circle could possibly have any reason to find it or read it. I'm glad this incident turned out to be okay.

[Alan]

I don't live in either of those halves of England. I was getting ready, and will still if needed, to write letters of support. Glad to hear that it all worked out OK :)

[(S)wine]

see my comment on will's blog.