Sharing is Caring, Sometimes

As a young student living in the 415, I know how valuable and limited space can be. Since I’m not some well-off socialite, I’ve learned to share. This includes a bedroom, silverware, hopes, fears, and toothpaste – although, some might consider that one snatching. I think that feeling cramped is a necessary part to any San Francisco experience. Please hop on a crowded MUNI bus, visit Fisherman’s Wharf, or eat at one of the city’s many Indian buffets if you want to feel slightly uncomfortable.

In any case, I know that my privacy can be somewhat limited. My roommates have the opportunity to overhear my phone conversations, see what I’m writing for a homework assignment, or listen to what music I’m playing. Not such a terrible thing, right? That is until I reveal my hatreds toward them—unknowingly—while on the phone, leave my credit card out amongst my HW paraphernalia, or play sounds that aren’t music at all and can really lower their opinion of me. It’s hard out there for a San Franciscan.

Should I be worried? I guess I should be if I did something to warrant their vengeance. Like eating all their tofu, maybe? There’s just as big a risk by being online. If some clever, tech-savvy person wanted to, they could probably compile a background sheet on me based on what I’ve revealed online.

There’s MySpace, Facebook, and even this blog—all of which can reveal something about me. I’ve been pretty good about limiting what info about me is out there. No address, no phone number, and no e-mail on any of those social networking sites. No birth year either (I do enjoy those birthday messages, though).



People should just be careful about what they plaster on the web and consider that their information could be swirling around forever. Protect yourself. Watch those inappropriate photos. Don’t post your apartment number. San Francisco is all about sharing but be wary of those that go overboard and snatch.