Joining Google+

Google+ Image

I've joined Google+ . . . and (see photo) it makes me look so small! Why did I join? Google kept begging me to . . . and people kept wanting to connect to me through Google+ . . . so I finally joined. Now what? The site isn't exactly intuitive. I decided to add my novella cover:

Part of the cover, anyway -- the site forced me to crop it. Looks rather odd cut this way, but I tried to get most essentials. Regrettably, Terrance Lindall's name got cropped. Perhaps some visitors will show some interest, anyway, and they'll come across Terrance's name soon enough if they do delve deeper due to interest.

Meanwhile, the site asked me to fill in some details about myself on a page labeled "About."

Under "Work" came a heading "Occupation," so I explained the obvious, "I occupy whatever space I happen to find myself in." This was followed by a heading "Skills," to which I responded, "I notice things that don't matter -- such as 'Skills' has 'kills' in it." There was then a question asking what I do at Ewha Womans University as an Assistant Professor, to which I replied, "I teach composition and research -- though research normally comes first."

That ought to have sufficed, but the site wanted more: it wanted my "Story." I was all set to talk about my novella, The Bottomless Bottle of Beer, but I then realized that the site wanted 'biographical' details, for instance, a "Tagline," which required some deep reflection on my part, till I came up with this: "I'm always right . . . except this time." The site asked for more, namely, an "Introduction" so that people can be sure I'm the right "Horace Jeffery," and I complied with this very important request: "I'm the correct Horace Jeffery because my family name is 'Hodges,' and my middle name is spelled with '-ery'!" This led to an odd heading, "Bragging rights." I don't like to brag, but the site did ask, so I wrote the truth: "I'm smarter than I am." And that's true. Taken separately, my various abilities are each mediocre, but as the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, I 'add up to' something more than mediocre. How do I know? Because I don't understand myself!

I thought I was finished, but the site wanted "Basic Information." It asked first for my "Gender." As there were merely two choices -- and I'm pretty sure I'm not a woman -- I clicked "Male." Then came an odd query: "Looking for." I was ready to reply, "I'm usually looking for the right word," but the site clarified its request: "Who are you looking for?" I wanted to retort, "Whom are you looking for?" But there were only pre-set answers, and none of those fit. The site already knew my birthday: "May 14." There appeared to be no interest in the year I was born. Then came "Relationship" -- to which the safest answer seemed "Married." I would have chosen "Deeply Married," but there were no degrees of marriedness. The site then asked me the oddest question of them all: "Other names." Eh? If I had other names, why would I reveal them on a site that would enable the authorities to trace them and track me down? Upon reflection, I realized that Google wouldn't be that evil, so the site probably meant to ask what names other people might often call me. I therefore replied, "Unrepeatable!"

That was fun! Now, what else can I join . . .