When a woman is on the verge of tears and you’re having an argument, don’t stop to Google something. It will only make it worse. Don’t change your Facebook marital status to read “Married to Bitch” and don’t start a Twitter thread to rally your friends into the argument. Really intimate moments, especially fights, are best kept offline. Up until about 2003 or so, people actually understood that as common sense.

Did you know that when Larry Page and Sergey Brin first started working on Google it was originally called BackRub? In 1996 a back rub was something tender given to sick family members, colicky babies and spouses. If someone you weren’t familiar with tried to give you a back rub you would have whipped your head around and screamed, “Back off hippie!” or “Who told you to be a pervert?”

The name “Google” is less intimate. It’s the number one followed by 100 zeros. For someone who lives for intimate moments with the people I love, I find it strange to see my identity become so infinitely searchable through other people’s uploads. And I find it even more strange for it to be searched by anyone other than my mom and potential employers. No one’s ever really crossed the line, so it doesn’t bug me that my past thoughts and mistakes are there for everyone to see, it only bothers me that I don’t get to offer more indication as to who I aspire to be.

…Well, that and the immortalized mullet.