I'm chismosa, a gossip, but it's more than what the word in English implies. Somehow, in English, to gossip, or be a gossip, implies the wholesale distribution of information about others, generally of a distasteful nature, or something to ridicule or even scandalize. Morally speaking, to be a gossip is not a good thing.
Therefore, I'll hide behind the word in Spanish, which still carries with it some morally reprehensible activity, after all, the mere act of lowering my voice to share a chisme is pretty much an indictment on the scandalizing nature of what I'm about to say. But it's more than that. Somehow, being a chismosa is also other unsavory activities, like eavesdropping.
Ooops. Busted there. Well, not literally busted, but my admission is kind of like busting myself. Publicly. I mean, here I am, telling you that I love to eavesdrop.
I have a habit (since forever) of letting my ears wander to other conversations, even while I'm having one of my own. It has nothing to do with being bored by whomever I'm tuning out, nor does it have to do with an insatiable urge to gather information about others. I think, instead, that it's a part of my imagination wanting to be fueled by the dramas that are unfolding around me.
Once, I sat in a restaurant with a friend, and we created elaborate lives and scenarios for the people around us based on snippets of conversations we overheard. Sick, I know. We created little mini-movies. It was great entertainment.
I was reminded of this while sitting in my (ok, we know it's the president's) office this morning. She showed up rather unexpectedly yesterday to reclaim her work area, and after freaking me out and then telling me I was welcome to stay, she showed up again this morning, disappeared behind closed doors, and then left again. That weirdness was followed by a troup of maintenance people showing up, under the command of the Vice President's secretary, to re-arrange the office.
I sat frozen at the computer, listening to the exchange going on behind me. They were there to move the desk over. About a foot. That required an army, complete with logistical advice, and near starts until the mission was accomplished. I couldn't pay for that kind of entertainment.
I love my life.