Tell me more, tell me more

Today in the office we were discussing gossip and if we like to know exactly what is going on with our coworkers. Drama, firings, romances, sex, whatever. My homegirls were both adamant that they don’t want to know this stuff, especially about coworkers they don’t really hang out with. But, as in most instances*, I came down on the opposite side of the fence from the two of them. I want to know everything. Indeed, I can’t imagine NOT wanting to know. If there is information out there, I want it. That’s why I love the internet. And trivia. I’m an information pack rat.

Now, granted, I only want to know stuff that doesn’t require any work. I don’t want to know calculus, for example, unless I can comprehend it in about five minutes. But I want all the gossip and news and political intrigue. I want to know weird science facts and what’s the latest in the marketing world, and the most popular baby names, and yes, even who’s sleeping with whom, both in Hollywood and right here in old Lancaster County, PA.

So I will never ever understand people who don’t care.

And I kind of think they’re lying.

*Other things my homegirls hate that I like: baby showers, the preppy look, really sugary things, organized religion.