Anthropomorphizing (I can’t help it)

I noticed the other day that the ads on my Facebook sidebar had little X icons to let you close them.  I thought, Hey, great, I will get rid of this Facebook Mobile ad.  Facebook Mobile is of no use to me as I do not have that functionality on my little crappy phone.  But when I clicked the X to get rid of the ad, it popped up a little notification that said, “Why don’t you like this ad?  Choose reason,” and all the reasons were hurtful.  They were all “Offensive” or “Uninteresting” or “Irrelevant”, and I kept picturing the poor little ad slinking back into the darkness hanging its head and getting teased by all the inoffensive interesting relevant ads.

When I think about it now, of course, I realize I was being ridiculous.  The Facebook ad for Facebook Mobile is probably like the big man on campus when it comes to Facebook ads, and it probably spends its free time throwing slushies into dorky ads’ faces, and giving them wedgies, and stuffing them into their lockers.  And then when they try to complain to Facebook, Facebook is probably like, “Um, my sweet munchkin child Mobile would never do anything like that,” and the misfit Facebook ads go off and smoke pot behind the gym.

Please tell me that you, also, have anthropomorphizing activities.  (Validate me!)

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30 thoughts on “Anthropomorphizing (I can’t help it)

  1. Oh goodness I do the exact same thing! Or like I’ll “trick” my shower into getting exactly where I want it because it’s sneaky and always either slightly too hot or too cold. 😀 Or many other things.

    One nice thing, though: I have an ad-blocker on my web browser that has been here well over a year – since before I started on facebook – so for a long time I didn’t even realize there were ads there! Not until I went up to Chicago for ALA and checked my account on their communal computers. Pretty crazy. I love my ad-blocker. Completely guilt-free.

    • Oh, I am constantly tricking street lights into staying green. I just pretend I don’t care about them at all. But my shower is untrickable. I have tried all my most cunning tricks on it, to no avail.

  2. I think my bookshelves have preferences as to what sorts of books go on them. Like the bookshelf Dad made me, it wants a mis-match of books, different heights, a few newer ones but mostly slightly battered. It’s happy-go-lucky and just wants the books to feel at home. The bookshelf mom and dad bought me is too dignified for that, and feels it is very much beneath its dignity to be forced to hold comic books (tough, cause it’s the only one they fit on) and would much prefer some nice hardbacks of shakespeare and tennyson, and would be really happy (in a calmly pleased way) if I would permit some of my law textbooks to take up shelf-space. It feels that it’s current load of books is well beneath its dignity. My newest bookshelf isn’t like that at all: it is not so ponderous as the other; it doesn’t care very much the quality of the books, but it really wants them all to be the same height on each shelf and takes great pleasure in having done a really good job when it can have a whole shelf of books all the same height.

      • well, I don’t have your organizational systems, so mostly I’m good with going along with my bookshelves whims. Except the tall one, because it’s the only one that can have double-stacked paperbacks, so I deny it’s desires in favor of my own bookological needs.

        But if you think about it, it could help organization: If I need Child ballads (which I did last night, long story) I know its on the dignified bookshelf. Same for books that are the height of the other bookshelf, and if I know the book I need fits none of these categories, well it must be the happy-go-lucky shelf!

    • I don’t think I do, either. But sometimes it comes on me unbidden, and I take a moment and overthink it, and it all goes downhill from there.

    • I adore the Sesame Street monsters. I am a bit sad that I am longer of an age to be home when Sesame Street comes on television. I like Count von Count.

  3. I definitely do this, even though I probably can’t pronounce the word correctly! And Amanda just reminded me to download Firefox’s Ad-Blocker, so thank you for this post 🙂

    • I get this word right about half of the time, and the other half of the time I lose track of it completely and keep repeating “anthropop, anthropomp” trying to remember how it goes. 😛

  4. Oh my goodness me, there is NOTHING to which I do not assign a soul. I cuddle new books to welcome them into the house. Talk to my son’s stuffed animals so they don’t feel abandoned now he’s growing up. Use the kitchen utensils in strict rotation…. Ir’s probably best we don’t even begin on in this list.

    • I am awful about seeing souls in inanimate objects. It’s a curse. You are so kind to your son’s stuffed animals! My heart broke when I went to college and had to give away some of my stuffed animals, even when they weren’t ones of which I was fond to begin with.

  5. No, sorry. I’m not with you on this one. I do this with animals all the time, but I have no problem closing pop up ads 😉

    • I would never have had the problem if it hadn’t asked me why I was getting rid of it. I felt like I had kicked a high school kid in the face and had him ask me “Why don’t you like me?” Hence the rest of the imagined scenario. 😛

  6. Hahaha, when I stomp in puddles I imagine all the droplets joyfully going free to start their own little puddles. So I hope you are not implying that this is somehow not true, after all the joy I have spread in my lifetime.

    • Nope, that’s absolutely true. It is also true that when we crunch acorns, we are setting their insides free to go off and rejoice and become new little trees.

      • AND we’re helping the squirrels out! Do not forget all the poor squirrels who would otherwise have to work and slave to get to the acorn.

  7. I do this too, but it’s usually with food (the reason I’m chubby). I imagine my uneaten portions of corn crying all the way back to the garbage disposal. Hmmphf.

  8. My car and computer definitely have personalities, as well as names and preferences. Inanimate things I’m not so sure about, although I hate to throw things away when they could have a useful life with someone else. Anything living definitely has cares and feelings, to me; for example, the grass loves to be walked on, in moderation.

    So nice to hear others believe similarly!

    • My car has a name and a personality too! That car is my baby. I am so attached to my car. When it makes a new noise (it’s very old), I sing it a comforting lullaby.

    • Oh yes. My current car is very calm and understanding, but my old car definitely required proper love and care, and just the right ritualistic button pushing to work.

  9. What fun to read the comments!

    I’m not really an anthropomorphizer. Not even with my plants, which most gardeners will oochie coo without shame.

    But if it’s a matter of assigning souls, not talking to things? Trees and antique furniture. I have been moved to sleepless rage and tears by homicidal tree-prunings, and literally nauseated by the maiming of antique beds. A wood thing, I guess.

    My bookshelves have no preferences, though I like the idea that other people’s might.

    • Oh, no, I don’t really talk to things. It’s all about worrying about their feelings. I have lots of free-floating guilt, and sometimes I feel guilty over actions I take against inanimate objects because I’m afraid I’ve hurt their feelings.

  10. This is a disturbingly fantastic post.

    I do this all the time. It was really bad with my old car. Sometimes she wouldn’t start so I would encourage her and pet the steering wheel. And it ALWAYS WORKED!! Seriously. Then my husband started talking about it being time to buy me a new car and I would yell at him if we were within earshot of my old car. Once we were driving and I yelled “earmuffs” and cupped my hands over the steering wheel. I miss my old car.

    • Never never do I ever suggest that I might ever get a new car, if my present car is around to hear me. Even when it’s not around I try to talk about an eventual new car in the far future, like, “When I get a new car probably around 2035…” I don’t want it to think I want a new car because I really, really do not.

    • I love it how many people have stories about the things they assign souls to! I mostly do it with objects that do things, like my car or little wind-up toys, or, I don’t know, my little coffee-maker. I rarely worry about the feelings of books, for instance, even though I love books a lot.

  11. Jenny, have you read Broken For You by Stephanie Kallos? I just finished it, and maybe you would identify with a part of it.

    Can you throw me an email? I’m raidergirl3 at gmail dot com. I have a thought.

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