The Devil is in the Details

Fabrication - the act or process of fabricating; manufacture; something fabricated, especially an untruthful statement

In my weekly searches for information about rumors and gossip I have discovered some true gems amongst the smutty celebrity gossip sites. This week I came upon this blog from a family-centered, solutions-focused therapist, Nakia Fleming. I read over this entry “Rumors,Gossip, and Speculation”, and enjoyed her advice and insights into the world of gossip.

She tells the history of Gossip. Now this is something I previously should have done my homework on, but have now discovered interesting tidbits about the word and its meanings. Gossip actually used to be used to describe good things, believe it or not. It used to be a title for godparents and for women who talked with a pregnant woman through the process of child birthing. Amazing discovering the evolution of words and their definitions.

Back to Fleming though, she writes about how fast gossip spreads and what the possible causes, benefits and reasoning behind could be. She states, (and I find it to be very true based on my failed no gossip experiment), “Very few people proudly admit to it, but we all gossip. Some of us even relish it.”

She reveals, “Biologists analyzed sample human conversations and found that about 60% of time was spent gossiping about relationships and personal experiences.”

Holy loud mouth blabbers, Batman! Sixty percent of the time, that is crazy, yet not wholly unbelievable based on my own experiences. So what are we talking about the rest of the time? Events, history, plans? I have to admit I have pondered this a few times throughout my life thinking that I must be the most boring person that I only talk about myself or other people. So glad to hear I am not the only one out there.

Fleming goes on to share tips for preventing gossip and dealing with it in the workplace. It may be far too late and far down the road for me to start some of these practices, but I figure it can’t hurt to try.

One of her instructions is “sharing only information that you are comfortable having others talk about.” Here is a prime example of watching what you share:

For those of you who have been following the rantings on this Chattergirl, you may remember me telling a story about Friend.  If not, you could read back, or know that Friend was a nice guy who helped me out of a sticky situation, only to then have a tall tale spun about actions that didn’t happen.

Friend and I, even after the proverbial s#%t-hitting-the-fan rumors began to fly, hung out, talked, and many days of the work week had lunch together.

One day Friend and I attended an event at work where there was a nice buffet of cheeses, fruit and veggies, little sandwiches, and cake. This event took place at about 9 am, so that much food wasn’t necessary, but that didn’t stop anyone from queuing up anyway to stuff their faces and flap their gums.

Friend and I started in line together but were separated at the cheddar and crackers platter by one of my supervisors.  While filling up a plate that I would consider a yummy yet out of place breakfast, I turned to Friend and asked “So where are we going for lunch?”

At this my supervisor snapped back with “How can you talk about lunch when you are about to eat food?”

I laughed and patted my stomach to show that I had lots of room to hold second breakfasts, elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, and supper, and said “Because we are growing children.” In this, I jokingly meant that I was still growing and needed to eat to keep up my energy.

Unfortunately, my supervisor yelled at the top of her lungs, in the middle of a line in a room full of a multitude of people, including a lot of higher ups and busy bodies, “YOU’RE PREGNANT!?!?”

She then did a double take looking from Friend to me to Friend to me, notably making up a connection of the two in her head at that very moment.

I quickly tried to set the record straight, but by that time, the damage was done. Too many people had heard and my adamant denial only fueled the rumormonger wild fire.

Embarrassed by my stupid joke’s massive backfire, I returned to my office in an attempt to just down play the situation and distract myself with work. This was only minutes after the actual event, but by the time I reached my office, at the other end of the building and a floor down, I was already being greeted by congratulations and well wishes for the fake fetuses growing inside me.

One busybody even came bouncing up to me super excited at the opportunity of knitting me a blanket and baby hat. Lord, give me strength not to punch my coworkers.

By the end of the week, I was pregnant with twins and in need of a paternity test to figure out who the father was out of my multiple alleged lovers. Rumors tend to take on a life of their own, this time it was in the form fraternal twins.

Nothing travels faster than light, with the possible exception of bad news, which follows its own rules. ~Douglas Adams

Kind of a hilarious song about rumors and gossip... take it away boys.

People Gonna Talk

Quidnunc: a person who seeks to know all the latest news or gossip: busybody

My dear readers, I have failed, failed miserably at my weeklong mission. I have discovered that while it is not so hard to keep yourself from spreading rumors, it is nearly impossible to not talk about people, in either a good or a bad manner.

I had informed my family and friends of my undertaking in hopes that they would keep me in line. I found that I would be in the middle of the conversation with them and one or several of them would call me out for discussing someone else who was not present. Whether it was to describe the weird man walking around in my neighborhood or talk about something fun I had done with a friend the day before, I could not avoid the inevitable.

I am still trying to continue in this quest, but I going to strive to avoid talking about anyone in a negative manner.

I wanted to share a fascinating radio broadcast that I discovered. It is an hour long but the first 40 minutes are very interesting. The show is called This American Life and this episode is focused on Gossip. Now I am betting most people won’t listen to this, but if you have a little bit of time, lend it your ear. I am including the transcript also, but much is lost when reading.

At the beginning of this show the host, Sarah Koenig, is speaking with a married couple, Jeff and Julie, about a gossip situation that they experienced. Julie told her husband, Jeff, gossip that she had heard thinking it would be a dead topic at that time. However, the husband went on to repeat the story to women at a party sometime later. He described the sensation of gossiping with these women as intoxicating because of the attention that he was receiving.

Julie was upset with Jeff because, as the host says, “Jeff's defense is that he doesn't have Julie's talent for understanding the contours of gossip. He can't feel the significance of secrets the way she does. He can't always figure out their weight and value and danger. It's a real disability.”

Unfortunately, this is a defense that many use when caught up in the exotic holdings of the world of scandalous talk. It turns out that we crave that attention, (even if we don’t realize it), and the electricity of secrets and chitchat is invigorating.

The next section of the show focuses on gossip in Africa, which is based greatly in the talk of sex and AIDS. In one example the guest, Hazel Namandingo, discusses rumors that follow around women who are beautiful, with weight on them, and good skin, that they probably have HIV because their pills would cause such looks.

On that note let me share my own experience:

A few years ago, I moved up in my career to a position that offered more promising opportunities. When I did this, I decided it was time to move up in my personal lifestyle also. I began dressing more professionally, I decided it was time to invest in a house, and I bought a new car.

Now I know this makes me sound like Ms. Money Bags, but I assure you, I am just a frugal spender and make wise financial decisions (most of the time).

I am independent person, I have yet to be in a long term relationship that would allow me to share responsibilities with a significant other. For now I enjoy knowing that I can do it myself.

But wait, that can’t be right … One of the least hurtful yet semi condescending rumors was created from this stroke of mature independence.

While playing a game of softball, I overheard a few of my teammates saying my name; being curious and not being part of a conversation about me, I interrupted the scuttlebutt. They proceeded to ask me when I had gotten married.

Completely confused by this I asked for further clarification. Turns out that the grapevine had produced a bitter wine of wordplay that told tales of me getting married to some unknown beau, because there was no way I would ever be able to achieve such life goals by myself.

I would love one day to get married and have the white picket fence, two and a half kids, apple pie dream lifestyle; but for now, I like that I have what I have because I worked my way to getting it and didn’t need anyone else’s help to do so.

Love this song, seems so fitting if you listen to the radio broadcast too.

Your- not-yet-Mrs.,

Lady Chattergirl

The Challenge: A Gossip Free Week

Hearsay - unverified, unofficial information gained or acquired from another and not part of one's direct knowledge.

I am going to admit it; I nearly gave into temptation this past week. Someone upset me and I formed a conclusion based on what I saw. Now, I forced myself not to speak the words out loud, but the urge was quite extreme to start gossiping. In fact, at one point I even had to put my duct tape “No-No” sign over my mouth to help remind me not to speak.

However, alas, karma still came around to kick my ass. The gossip gods paid me a visit this week and stole my voice away for even thinking such nasty thoughts. Now I sit here on day two of what I assume is laryngitis, just waiting to see how long it takes the vocals to return to full strength.

In my day of, for the most part, silence, (I mean, I can’t shut up completely, that is just too difficult), I found an interesting site for all to check out this week. So begins my challenge to you.

I have heard tell of professors assigning their classes with a 24-hour period of no technology, so here is a new assignment, should you choose to accept it, no gossiping for an entire week. As the author of the article says, the rules are simple:

1.  No talking about people who are not present, positively or negatively; they’re not present to defend themselves either way.

Seems basic enough: go an entire week without speaking about other people. Nope, that sounds painstakingly hard, but let’s do it anyway. I would like it if the followers of this blog would join me in this mission.

This means, no speaking, no posting on Facebook, no tweeting, no repeating what you have heard or read, and no excuses. I myself am going to try to hold myself accountable on this front in some fashion. Whether it be by a penalty jar or something along those lines. I might have to get creative. To avoid being accused of cheating, this week will not only start once I post this blog, but I will lengthen it to however long it takes for me to get my voice back.

If you are willing to join me, please leave a comment below to let me know and to give the rest of us a status update as to how you are doing on this quest.

Something light hearted for the day:

Not feeling so hot today, I thought I might like to reveal a less ego-crushing rumor this go around. It is actually one of my favorite and funny rumors that has been told at my wonderful work atmosphere.

A few years ago, I found myself unhappy with my weight and decided to join Weight Watchers. It was an excellent program and I managed to maintain a weight loss of about one to two pounds a week. During this time, as was expected, my body began to shrink proportionally, of course.

As any woman would know how weight loss effects a woman, perhaps we should have made sure to explain it to the opposite sex.

While I was enjoying shedding the pounds I didn’t realize that others were taking notice in other ways. One day a coworker came up to me and asked me how my surgery had gone. Now, this is a person who saw me every day and was, I thought, a close enough friend that she would know what was going on in my life.

I was confused by the question of an unknown surgery, so I asked her to clarify. As it turns out, one of the male dominated departments in my building was all a-buzz with the talk of me having had breast reduction surgery. According to the chitchat, I had been unhappy with my cup size and decided to take it down a notch.

If I could have literally laughed my ass off, I think I might have, and forgone the next several months of weight loss. 

This video explains how I wish I could have reacted to this hogwash tale. Unfortunately, I was at work and had to maintain a professional persona. I would have loved to have pulled this off, in fact, there are still days where I honestly consider dressing to the part that my coworkers have placed me in.

Good luck with your missions this week. Something tells me I will be humming this song all week.

This message will self-destruct in five seconds …

Lady Chattergirl out …

You can dish it, can you take it?

To dish - to dispense abusive language or punishment; or to talk together informally, especially, to gossip.

In my online searching this week, I found some genuinely interesting articles that completely disagree with my stance on the subject of gossip and rumors. Funny enough, this first article even used some of the same references that I mentioned in my first blog, but introduced it in a different light.

Charles Walker, a psychologist at St. Bonaventure University in New York, has done many studies on gossip and rumors, and thinks that gossip can be a good thing. He believes that gossip isn’t always malicious and that less than 10 percent of gossip is actually scandalous, (does this mean I am part of the 10 percent?) Though Walker does say that rumors are bad. 

For anyone who has ever fallen victim to malicious accusations, this theory would seem ridiculously asinine. It would almost appear that his opinions are based on starting gossip on superfluous information such as the examples given in the article about dining cards and visitation policies. Try starting some gossip about a teacher having an inappropriate relationship with a student and see if that doesn’t end up ruining someone’s livelihood.

Unfortunately, Walker is not the only one who follows this train of thought. Robb Willer, a study researcher and an assistant professor of sociology and psychology at the University of California, Berkeley, also buys into the idea of “good gossip.”

I see where Walker and Willer are going with this, but I can’t help but believe that gossip can still lead to bad outcomes. Rumors and gossip are the same thing, rumors are birthed from gossip’s flaming tongue.

My question is if it is “good gossip,” wouldn’t that just be considered talking, having a discussion perhaps? Why do gossipers only seem to talk about the affairs of others?

Now, not to sound all “girl power,” but I would like to take a poll and perhaps do a little research and see how many women buy into this idea of happy times at Gossip High. Perhaps it is based solely on my own exciting experience that I have such a pessimistic view, so I would like to get some outside input.

Any takers on the sharing-your-personal-opinion front? Do you believe gossip and rumors can be good? And do you believe that gossip and rumors are the same thing? Comments welcome below.

I would like to chew on this thought for a little while and perhaps come back to it. These fine gentlemen obviously are highly educated and have many followers, and are mass marketing their ideals and may be changing the viewpoints of people each day in their classes. So, chew, chew, chew …

Now for a random personal not so good gossip moment:

When I started with my first real job outside of college, I was a naïve, innocent gazelle just waiting to be pounced upon by hyenas. I didn’t realize that being in an office atmosphere would open me up to ridicule and rumor.  

I worked very closely with a separate office through which I met a man, we’ll call him “Ugg”, due to his Neanderthal like personality (no offense to the Neanderthals). I also became friends with a guy closer to my age, we’ll call him “Friend”.

Ugg was a married man, whose wife lived half way across the country. I am sure such a long distance relationship can cause great stress for a marriage, but those who are serious would make due.

Ugg on the other hand was quick to report that he and his wife had an “open” relationship. To quote the oaf himself, “As long as I tell her I am doing someone, and I don’t bring anything home, then she is cool with it.”

My response, “Just because she is ok with it, doesn’t mean I am,” and then an immediate exit from the area did not deter him, no, it just steeled his resolve more on the matter.

One weekend a group of people at work decided to get together for a cookout, I unfortunately did not know the way to the gathering. Stupidly I accepted Ugg’s seemingly kind offer to show me the way. What I didn’t realize was Ugg had decided to pick me up and drive me many miles away from my car to his house first, where he then proceeded to make not so subtle comments about us bumping uglies.
Needless to say, it didn’t happen, but by the time we arrived at the cookout I was at my wit’s end.

Enter Friend, a sweet guy who became my knight in shining armor. When it came time to leave the party, I asked Friend to drive me back to my car to help me avoid a potentially dangerous evening. Being a gentleman, he did just that. Doing nothing more than talking as the friends we were, he drove me to my car, made sure I was safe and left. A nice end to an uncomfortable night.

Returning to work the following Monday, I was immediately bombarded with probing questions as to my actions over the weekend. Apparently, Ugg took serious offense to me not going home with him, and started the rumor that Friend and I had hooked up on our ride home. I will spare you those details he told.

This was the first of many rumors, and it was all downhill from there. Ugg planted the first seed of my promiscuity in the minds of my coworkers, a seed which blossomed and I have never been able to weed out.

My quote for this post will be that of a song instead. Sing it Dido...


Until next time,
Lady Chattergirl

Early Age of Ridicule

                Rumor: to talk or opinion widely disseminated with no discernible source; also a statement or report current without known authority for its truth
                What does it take to start a rumor? Seeing something happen and drawing your own conclusions? Seeing two people talking, and assuming they have a “secret”? Just getting bored and thinking, “you know what almost sounds true but isn’t?”

           You’ve heard the term “loose lips sink ships,” well let’s change it in this case to say: flapping gums ruin chums, or jib-jab is a drab. Lame phrases, I know, but it is better than using some of the choice four letter words that usually come to mind.

People don't know how to watch their mouths now a days.

         Some fun topics came up this past week that I found interesting when it came to rumors and name calling, they were again in the political arena, which oddly enough, I really do hate. One of my favorites is the Slimary Process. I believe the correct phrase we are looking for here is "Oh no, he didn't."

These "fine gentlemen" are truly at each other's throats. They are coming across as children arguing over a toy and telling mommy tales about one another to see who gets the prize. Oh, the humanity.
I do however enjoy the differing styles in the videos below. Romney's depicts Gingrich almost like a devil in a comedic style, while seeming to speak in the language of the common folk (i.e. "Really?").  While good ol'Newt's pictures seem some what flattering, but goodness me doesn't that rubber stamped graphic just drive his point home. I sure do fear election day.

Personally, I dislike smear campaign tactics. If I am going to vote for someone, I don't want it to be because they were the best at trash talking the competition. I want it to be because I made up my own mind and believed in what they stood for based on the facts.

And now for something completely different, it is time for the personal rumor of the week:

While I am now a well dressed professional woman, with a semi-ridiculous shoe collection, my beginnings were as a tomboy. I ran, I played, I got dirty, I got bruises, scrapes and broken bones, I rarely wore dresses, hated the color pink, and didn’t like baby dolls. I loved every minute of my adventurous childhood.

Things have changed a bit now, though I still enjoy playing and watching sports, I love the occasional journey into the unknown, and I still have more guy friends than I do girl friends (I find men easier to talk to and less backstabbing). But now, in contrast, I also wear dresses and high heels, use makeup, and prefer to be seen as a lady.

Seeing as this change in me did not come about until my late teen years, this caused some issues in the dating arena. Guys looked at me as a buddy, but not as a possible prospect. Not to mention the added complication of my father being in an authoritative role in the community. Everyone knew of him and everyone feared him, though none of them knew him for the guy’s guy that he is, (they would have loved him had they given me a chance).

One of my earliest rumors started around this time. I was 17 and ready to mingle, I would soon be going off to college, where no one knew me, (or my dad), and I could start fresh dipping my toe in the dating pool.

At this point, an uncle of mine came to stay at my parent’s house while he got back on his feet. During his stay he would constantly ask me if I was dating anybody at school. I truthfully would always answer no. To this his immediate response was always, “Why, are you gay?”

I would laugh off this snide comment each time and try not to think of it again. Unfortunately, what I didn’t realize was my uncle was spreading that idea through the family.

Coming from a Catholic family with very easily influenced and judgmental grandparents, I quickly learned I could no longer ignore my uncle’s brain-fart like ideas. As a teenager, I wasn’t ready to face being shunned by people I loved. Enter the abrupt confrontation with Uncle Enemy Number One.  

In truth, this was not the first time I had been dubbed as such. I found out just recently that my best friend growing up was also told the same thing about me by her parents when we were in middle school. Again I repeat, I was a tomboy. Granted I had untamable hair in a boyish style cut (stylist’s fault), glasses, and excess baby fat; but come on, who isn’t awkward when they are in middle school.

To clarify, my sexual preference is not based on my religion or my upbringing; it is however, based on the fact that … ladies, we are crazy bitches. We can and do drive each other crazy, just as we do to men, and seriously I just don’t think I could take all the drama. Now, I applaud any woman who is a lesbian, because you are living your life how you want to, and feel free to thumb your nose at anyone who would try to change you or tell you there is something wrong with you. I have no problem with homosexuality. I just know it is not for me. So I’ll just stick with men.

Learning that people, both friends and family, thought this of me wasn't hurtful, it was merely annoying to see conclusions that people come up with based on very few details.

I’ll leave you with a quote from the pen of Shakespeare that illustrates where rumors might originate: “Rumor is a pipe blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures …”

Yours truly,
Lady Chattergirl