It might have been 2003 when I first Googled myself. The thought never crossed my mind before, but somehow, that day, I wondered what one could possibly discover if they typed my name in the search box. So I typed it in. To my surprise, several matches were found.
The first 5 or so were 15 Bytes articles with either my byline attached or my name mentioned in the text, accompanied by my professional title. The next few had my work email and phone as they were from the UAC website.
I clicked through a few of the links – even though I was very familiar with those pages. I guess I was still into my role as “stranger” as I did research on me. I’ll admit, it felt pretty cool with my name out there, published articles and all, being the “go to” girl who had the answers to all your art-related questions.
A couple years ago I was bored and did it again – I Googled myself. But this time, my “results” were trumped by a different Laura Durham. This one was a wedding planner in Florida. She was also a mystery writer, a co-founder of her own business and a blonde.
I felt little and insignificant – kinda like Buzz Lightyear in Toy Story when he walks into the warehouse and sees all the other boxed up Buzz Lightyears and realizes he’s not unique (OK, maybe not that dramatic. I didn’t actually cry for myself like I cried for Buzz). This Laura Durham seems more important and accomplished what with her wedding planning business, published novels and pant suits. She even took our name and made her own .com before I could (not that I ever had plans to).
Yesterday things were slow here at work (when you don’t have money to spend there’s only so much you can do) so I looked me up again. This wedding planner is still at the top of the Google results. I come in number 7 on the list and number 4 is a softball player in Houston. There is also a realtor and a colllege student in Indiana who is the member of some arts committee.
It’s not like I thought I was the only person with my name out there. I mean, I’m glad my parents didn’t try to be unique and name me Timberly or Banjo or something absurd like that. And honestly, I don’t come across many Lauras. But someone with my last name too? It feels funny.
So I guess what I’m saying is I have a new life mission: to accomplish something significant enough that will put me back at the top of the Google search results…although this wedding planner/novelist will be a tough competitor.
And that is the end of my vanity post.