Skip to main content

Curiously Paranoid

Last week, I submitted my first job application in more than seven years.  It took me almost two weeks to complete as I agonized over a customized resume and cover letter and an answer to the question "why would you be an asset to our company?"  I find my usual writing "voice" is self deprecating and mildly ironic, but neither of those tones are particularly useful when one goes begging for work.

After a weekend off from my job search, I was back at the library this morning to pick up What Color Is Your Parachute?, a classic of the "How to find your perfect job" genre*.

What Color Is Your Parachute? is updated each year in order to provide the latest advice to us the unemployed, and Mr. Bolles is pulling no punches in this edition.  In the very first chapter, he downplays the importance of the traditional resume I've just spent hours crafting.  He titles his second chapter is "Google is your new resume".
"What we know for sure is that somewhere between 35% and 70% of employers now report that they have rejected applicants on the basis of what they found through Google."

Because I am a naturally curious person, I make a habit of googling customers, coworkers, acquaintances, family.  Anyone really.  So before proceeding further with Chapter 2, I flexed my Google muscles to see what is publicly available about me.

What I found out: I share my name with a lot of other women, some of them medical professionals.  Also, a woman who is a clairvoyant and animal communicator specializing in photography psychometry; she is recommended by many users on a forum about horse ownership.

More relevant for me, of the top 10 results for my full name as given on my paper resume, only one related to me and it was a link to address history information I would very much like for any would be stalkers to have to work very hard to get.

That then led me to this post on reddit about how to have personal information removed from various information aggregation sites like whitepages.com and peoplesmart.com.  (Keep in mind that a lot of the listed info is actually considered public record and these sites just make it easier for the average person with above average curiosity to get a hold of.)

So the day ends with me
a) comforted that my blog, Facebook profile, and any dirty secrets previously unknown to me are not at the top of Google's search results and
b) slightly more paranoid about what is in the search results at other sites.

And now it's time to play pass the paranoia...

What does Google know about you?


--------------------------------------
*Dad!  There's a retirement version!

Comments

  1. Well, I never! Who would want to know anything about no one is beyond me! I'd be thinking I'm safe in the digital world, at least for now!

    I do love to read about others though!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well, I have an unusual last name in France, and I discovered, the first time I googled my full name (I must have been in the UK at the time, around 2002) that the research institute I worked for when I was in my last year of study, actually published a scientific paper and put me as a co-author because they use swath of my graduation academic report in it (which was very honest of them !). As I had changed job and country, they couldn't find me to tell me. So sometimes, you have pleasant surprise. :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thomas - I'd forgotten to try and find my published graduate research. Turns out, it's there if you add the right keyword to my name. Something to add to LinkedIn. :O)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Sudden Change of Direction: an Analogy of Dog and Life

There are times when you and Life are walking along, like good friends, and you think you know where you are going.  You think that you and Life have agreed on a direction; that there is a plan; that you understand each other. And then Life decides that despite all the trees you have already visited, you really must see this new one.  This tree is different from all the other trees and if you don't see it, you simply won't be the person you might be if you DO see it. And so Life changes direction. Except you don't notice.  Because you talked about it.  And there was this plan . And then you trip over Life.  And Life LOOKS very indignant because you weren't paying attention and kneed her in the ribs.  And you ARE very indignant because this is a stupid tree that you had no interest in ever seeing and you would chop it down and burn it if you could. Stupid tree.  Stupid Life.  Stupid little bits of gravel stuck in your palms. But eventually, you thin

Snow Tires, Snow Tired

Dear Reader, LandLady likes to encourage me by saying "I hope you're writing about this." At least, I'm pretty sure it's meant as encouragement.  It might be private hopes that if I write the story well enough, I can sell the movie rights and she can demand a cut. After all, the whole plan to buy a house in Bangor and move Dog in with my friends and their three boys (7 and younger) was hatched under her roof. However, as yet, the whole situation seems very unreal.  It took 3 months from offer to closing.  I signed a lot of papers and took possession of a lot of keys. And then the plumber showed up and there was a lot of banging.  And I extended my lease at LandLady's in hopes that plumbing and heating issues could be resolved before I moved in. And this house is in Maine where it has finally snowed.  And the driveway has been plowed in.  Dog doesn't want to go outside to run or pee and when she is forced to, she holds each foot off the icy ground

Je reviens.

My red soft-sided suitcase is somewhere in France, and that's the most I can tell you.  When I handed the suitcase to the nice man at Tulsa Int'l Airport, I naturally expected it to touch down in Montpellier at the same time I did.  Life did not meet my expectations. In fact, this entire trip is somewhat unexpected. At the time that I resigned my position in the UK, I struggled to picture myself returning to an office, staring at a screen for hours on end.  I had the idea that I would make a complete career change - to baking or event planning or film production.  But in the end, I met some people who were particularly interested in all the things I used to know and who were willing to pay for that knowledge.  They were also interested in sending me straight to France to work with my former colleagues.  And given a job description which could not have been filled by anyone but me, I agreed to take the position. As I was eating dinner (and trying not to spill on my onl