You Don't Know Me, I Look Good
Let us say, for instance, that suddenly hackers lost interest in celebrity photos. They might, just go with me on this one, turn their attention to exposing all of the Facebook based quizzes which we have all secretly taken without posting the results. How embarrassing such an invasion of privacy would be! (Let's just be glad that privacy remains safe as hackers keep their attention on celebrities.)
I, of course, never participate in such Facebook feed detritus. Never. Except, admittedly, on the rare occasion. The most recent rare occasion concerned itself with discovering my "best supportive friend" on Facebook. And, while I am not one apt to post such results on my feed (as it might bring into question my understanding of the meaning of the word "rare"), I feel it necessary to show you a screenshot of my results:
Oh, how much my life has changed since moving to Toulouse. Were I to take this quiz a year ago I am confident I would have gotten an animate object. Still, I am glad about the move, and have even found a friend to climb with (watch out, Old Shoe, your days are numbered).
In a mixture of wanting to remain in Toulouse and finding out that I may not be funded next year, I began applying to various jobs and internships. On Wednesday I have a phone interview with an aerospace firm, which should be interesting. Of particular interest is why they chose to interview me when my cover letter (to be read in a drunken slur) went something like:
"You don't need an engineer. Trust me, I taught engineers--they couldn't optimize a kitten in a coffee pot. You need a mathematician. I'm a mathematician. You don't know me, I look goooooood."
Whether or not they actually need a mathematician, I do not know. What is for certain, though, is that they don't know me; and, yes, I look good.