My husband (let's call him GB), has an overdeveloped conspiracy gene. I had a boss many years ago that woud spout off these theories from way out in left field (his one about how the sniper in DC some years back was actually a mercenary of the US government planted there so they could declare a military state is one that comes to mind). I would bring these home and share them, and GB would chime in, "Well...you know, that might not be that far off."
He is a technophile, but won't pay bills online. He's convinced that there would be a breach of security and our number would be used by everyone and their dog. He freaked out when I was buying things online before he'd gotten a chance to research a company and their security methods. Every once in a while he mumbles something about a manifesto and moving to Montana and living like a hermit.
When he found out that I use my real name on my blog, he lectured me on the need for anonymity in this internet world. Because there aren't, you know, a gazillion Heathers out there in the world. But see, he knows I have a tendency to share too much. Sure I've had bad experiences (stolen credit card numbers, threatening phone calls, house eggings, car keyings, attempted break-ins), but I've had significant good experiences in life to feel optimistic about what I share on the internet. Like the time I told a church member that I would love to play French Horn in the church brass group, but I just couldn't afford to buy one, and wouldn't you know she had one sitting in her closet at home waiting for one of her boys to want it. Or the time I shared I would cook something different every day for a month and got invited to write my first feature article for an actual printed publication. Plus, I don't generally think people are out to get me, which is likely the primary difference between GB and me.
Meanwhile, last year he saw his name in a couple of early posts, and nearly went ballistic. DIDN'T I UNDERSTAND THAT HIS NAME NEXT TO MY NAME NARROWED THE FIELD OF WHO WE ARE DOWN TO A MUCH SMALLER NUMBER??? Well, yeah, but most of the people that read this set of drivel are people I know in real life. Or at least the ones that comment. And others are such regular commenters that I feel like I do know them. But, since I'm apparently supposed to be afraid of all of you if I put GB's first name on here, I decided to come up with that nickname for him. See, typing the word "husband" is exceptionally tedious and lends to very poor sentence construction around any reference to him. So, I'm done with that. He will be referred to as GB, and for those of you who know his real name, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't cause panic in our household by using his actual name in the comments.
It took me a surprisingly long time to come up with a nickname for him, considering GB is short for the most common thing I call him. Creativity has never been something I've been particularly good at. I can brainstorm with other people towards a good result, but I can't really do it on my own. I've tried and it's always a really bad attempt. GB thinks all blogs should be completely fictitious. Or at least mine should, anyway (you know, so that way I don't give out any real details). Essentially, I should make up a persona and write entries from this completely other point of view that I should inhabit as wholly as possible. And that sounds much too much like a novel or creative writing or some other thing that sounds like a pretty daunting thing to attempt. How would I keep my lies straight? I've never been good at that. On the other hand, there are topics I could feel a lot more comfortable writing about if no one I knew was reading. So maybe it's worth a try. But if I do that, don't expect me to ever link off this one to the other.
The Monk of Mokha by Dave Eggers
2 months ago