Privacy is a thing of the past.

A few days ago, I found myself sitting in the breeze-way between Glenn G. and the coffee kiosk. Cozy in my parka and slurping hot chocolate, I was absorbed in a fascinating reading — none other than the glorious Patriot Act. As stimulating as it is to absorb the details of how privacy rights are gradually being stripped away, I was distracted by the beep beep sound emulating from my phone — the signal of a text message!

I flipped it open and what did I see? “I think you should write an article about how private life is not private anymore.” Now either someone, this friend of mine, was peaking over my shoulder as I was reading, or that was an eerie coincidence. My curiosity peaked — I stopped my reading on how governments are denying privacy to hear my friend’s story.

Alas, my friend was not interested in a column about Dick Cheney’s stranglehold on freedom. She wanted to tell me about dicks of another kind. That is, behavior on a younger, more collegiate level; specifically, the obnoxious attitudes of frat boys. Now don’t get riled up about anti-greek life stereotypes. I say frat boys with love. Because, like anything else, there are people, male or female, letters or no letters, who will fit into what I am going to rant about.

Why is private life not private anymore? Why is it acceptable that every detail of private life (OK, let’s be blunt, sex life) should be broadcast?

Please, please don’t interpret this as being uptight or lacking a sense of humor. Antics don’t have to be kept secret. There is nothing wrong with being open about what goes on in private, be it involving sex or politics or a combination of both, as it usually tends to be. Everybody has their own dialogue that works for them, and people who don’t have a sense of humor, or at least the ability to make fun of themselves, are just sad sallys.

But honestly — grow up. It is a mark of maturity and respect to sometimes just keep your mouth shut. That is the difference between loving someone and treating them like a piece of meat. It isn’t necessarily a male vs. female debate (even though I have had a lot more of my girl friends tell me how frustrated they are with their boyfriends’ big mouths than my guy friends complaining about their ladies discussing their penises in public).

I truly like being an open person. I think it’s great that a group of friends can be laid back and talk about anything, laugh about anything. But there is a fine line between humor and degradation. It sucks, but you know what? Women more often than men get treated like toys. And no matter how chill a girl is, no matter how much she jokes about it, how big of a “freak” she is, it will bother her to have her sex life talked about like she’s Jenna Jameson starring in the latest remake of “Debbie Does the Frat Boy.”

I would try to flip it, pull the how-would-you-feel card, because I know I’ve gone to a few of my friends and discussed hookup-ish stuff. But it’s not in the content, it’s in the tone. When private matters are discussed in a manner that denotes an equal balance, it is one thing. I guess the rule of thumb is basically, speak about sex to other people the same way you would speak if the person you are sleeping with is standing right next to you. At least then you are consistent. If not, just keep it private. Just like the government does.