Again with the mice

I’m interested in blogging on a level apart from participating in it. What’s it mean to society? Does it change the way we interact with people? Is it wise to blog anonymously? Does it increase or decrease your chances of saying something you shouldn’t? Is the intimacy fostered by sharing some thoughts you’d normally protect healthy? Why is it so appealing to put private concerns in a public forum? How is it that someone so far away can offer such insight, comfort or validation in your weak moments?

I’ve tried not to state facts here. I don’t know how to get into grad school – I know how I got in. I don’t know how to interview properly – I know what worked for me. I don’t know what the role of the online world is in society – I do see the personal impact of my experiences.

In moments of daily conversation, I find myself thinking if you had a blog, I’d be closing the page now. I find you boring. And tedious. So I think my tolerance for irrelevant information has decreased in reading so many online journals. I sometimes get halfway through an entry and realize I really don’t care. So I leave – try again later. On very rare occasions, I’m offended – deeply bothered by what someone writes – and so I don’t return. That interaction is over for me, and I don’t really think of it again.

Those techniques aren’t really acceptable in reality. I can’t just turn around and walk away when someone’s midsentence because I’m really bored. Can’t impatiently skip past a few paragraphs to hit the main point because I’m trying to make time for other tasks. Can’t refuse to speak to someone again because they made a stupid comment or have a view that differs radically from my own.

So I was wondering if, for me, a high level of online involvement was detrimental to functioning as a normal human being. Was I becoming too critical, using people for blog fodder more than appreciating them on a real level?

Back to the mice. When we left off yesterday, I was lost. I had no idea how I could force myself from the barely but painfully conscious state to a place where I could be calmly efficient in doing part of my job.

On Wednesday I successfully completed my first animal experiment, with nary a tear and only a few twinges of ‘oh no’-ness.

I realized that I got through it because this blog world helped me.

Charlie emailed me a paper awhile ago, and I like Charlie, so I emailed him back, introduced myself and hoped we could be friends in whatever way this little blog world allows.

I wouldn’t reveal email conversations here – it seems overly intrusive of something that someone sent me in private. So I’ll leave it with that fact that Charlie pulled me through this. Gave me some words that seemed calm, thoughtful and true. I read his 5 paragraphs, let them linger in my mind, tempered by the fact that I respect Charlie – trust he’s telling the truth and that his advice is sound, and that for some reason, he was confident that I could make this work for myself.

It came time to go get the mice from across campus that morning. So I walked over and ended up in a nightmare. The mouse handling area – where all I could smell, see or sense involved the tiny rodents. I put on my disposable gown over the jeans and grad school t-shirt that offered me physical and emotional comfort. No fancy outfit with heels on that day – my internal resources needed all the help they could get.

Head Mouse Scientist picked up a clean cage and we walked into a room that housed one of her colonies. Stepping in the door, I had a moment of blind panic. There were 7 racks of animals, 4 to my left, 3 to the right. These racks are about 6 feet wide and equally tall. Cages containing mice – tiny creatures in their brown, white, black, or spotted coats – face both directions, leaving narrow rows between the carts so you can pick the appropriate animals to take away.

Charlie thinks I can do this, I told myself again. Perhaps he knows something I don’t, or perhaps he’s really, really wrong. I found myself thinking of sending him an email later – I couldn’t make myself visualize a successful experiment with the mice – that was too painful for me – so I visualized past the end of one.

I’d let Charlie know I pulled it together, I decided. Thank him, because he went out of his way to offer some really valid thoughts. I held tightly to the email composition in my head to keep the bad moments at bay.

I think Charlie's wrong, another part of my brain whispered. I vote we choose between running away and passing out.

So I thought of writing this – of telling people who read my words that I made it work, came out triumphant rather than insecure and lacking. I wanted to tell you a good story to ease the routine of saying “I want to have something in my life, but I don’t, because I can’t.”

Thinking of how I might try to amuse Dryden, hoping he’d smile when reading my post, knowing that there was a chance that he’d impart some bit of wisdom or humor that makes me wish I lived closer to the west coast. Thought about some of the women in my list of links over there, and how it’d be nice to try to impress them for once. Unlike a couple of guys who read here, I don’t communicate with the women personally.

Honestly? I don’t want to bother you. When I leave comments – said I was Jane’s biggest fan and offered to be best friends with abd me – I’m trying to be cute, but there’s also a strong element of being almost intimidated by your character, strength and insight. I really think you’re all very cool. Sometimes I’m profoundly not cool, so I let myself enjoy you from a distance rather than asking for personal contact.

I know when you’re reading though – those with and without blogs – and I love when you comment. It gives me comfort than some of you return nearly every day – makes the loneliness ease a little because maybe there are people out there who might get me after all.

The animal experiment went fine. No details are really necessary, though I participated completely, and was calm, professional and collected.

I returned to my desk to immediately email Charlie – a reward for my brain who had worked so hard to endure a process I’d previously thought impossible. And now I’m writing to all of you, because that’s another important part of the treat for me.

I started by talking about blogs – what they mean, how the impact my life. It’s overwhelmingly positive for me, I think. Releasing some thoughts that bother me provides a great deal of comfort. I find myself wanting to connect with people in my daily life a little bit more because I know they have the potential to amaze me. After all, I know and know of people who keep blogs that are fantastic, so the idea spills over that people I come across at work could be too.

So say what you will about anonymous blogging, the artificial environment that sometimes exists, offer questions of honesty and accuracy – I might agree with some of your negative conclusions. But this process has helped me in some profound ways, even in the short time I've been around so far.

I know how friendship feels – while I don’t have many friends, I do have some that I love. I now count some of you as friends, and there are more that I wish I could put in that category. I play your comments over in my mind several times – considering ideas that wouldn’t have otherwise found their way in. When I walk my dog in the mornings, I find myself preoccupied with your job searches, professional progress or personal news. I feel connected to a group of people I find pretty fascinating. I’m left, on post number 102, with expressing how lucky and grateful I feel.

With all sincerity, thank you.