Not too long ago a friend and I ( you know who you are!) were having a conversation about blogging. We were chatting about ex-pat blogs, blog fade, and a bunch of other stuff, but the subject of anonymity was at the top of our topic list.
If you've been reading this blog for any amount of time, you've probably already noticed that I never use my real name here. Also, I call my husband, who is a big grown-ass man "FrenchBoy". (cuz it's just funny.) But on the other hand I talk about things in a way that is specific enough that almost anyone could find out my real identity. So I guess you could say I'm pseudo-anonymous? (Is that a real word or did I just make that up?)
For the record, the reason I don't use my real name here is because when people google my real name (clients, possible collectors, galleries, museums, etc) I don't want this goofy-ass blog to be the first thing that pops up, as most likely it would, since blogs tend to rank higher with search engines for many reasons. I doubt my professional contacts care about where I ate dinner last weekend. On the other hand, if after a bit of research one of my professional contacts does happen to read about where I ate lunch last Saturday afternoon, good for them. I don't mind. I'm not so naïve as to think that just because I don't use my name, that this blog is somehow more anonymous or private. If I were a private person I would never have started this blog in the first place.
I think every blogger has to draw a line in the sand at some point and decide how much they will and will not say. For me, it all boils down to what I'm truly comfortable with people knowing about me. Some things are private. And no matter how funny or relevant they might be, I won't write about them. On this blog you will never hear me talk about the many kidnappings, armed robberies, or drive-by shootings I have been involved in. Even I have boundaries. Besides, some of you clever devils have figured out who I am on your own and have tracked me down (both in New York and San Francisco!) and I don't want you showing up to my job with police in tow.
But for the most part, I think you can all agree that I pretty much let it all hang out.
Oh and those who are curious about where "Madame K" came from--technically it's is my real name. Although I kept my maiden name after we married. My husbands last name starts with the letter K. And in France people don't give a rats ass how independent and modern you are. If you're married, you get called by your husband's last name.
So alas, here in France, Je suis Madame K_____.