I don’t want to end up in your blog.
My thoughts: You’re goddamn right. As a matter of fact, you’re already there.
My reply to this: “Oh how funny, why would you say such a thing?”
Moments ago, I just received one of those feeler text messages. You know the ones that start off with the usual lameness of “Hey, how are you” with the other person lying about how “Everything is all good”, then with them pretending to give a shit what’s going on with you when they ask “How have you been?”.
Hmm mmm. You’ve received this feeler text OR have sent it.
For a minute, I actually felt bad for the guy and wondered if there are any other men out there who might be stepping up and doing something to wow me, I’m missing out on?
Could my admission of having a dating (currently inactive) and relationship (that blew like a fart in the wind 3 months ago) be sabataging my possible future happiness?
Should I stop telling men that I’m a blogger? Hell no. I feel it is only right, sort of like reading someone their Miranda Rights that “anything you say or do may be used against you…”
Should I stop blogging altogether and abandon my journal of sorts? Hell no.
I will continue on!
I will try to protect the identities with ridiculous code names such as Tall Glass, Black Russian and Tiny Mighty.
I know what to share on here and what not to and its likely at times, I may not give a shit about what I should NOT share.
As my friend recently joked “Damn, I forgot I’m talking about this married man I’m screwing to a blogger”.
Mr. Put Out The Feelers With No Fingers?
Keep going through your contacts list.
Haha!! Obviously he didn’t even make a lasting impression.
No, keep doing you!
No he did not Jessie, poor thing was nice too.
I’m just not into guys who wear white t-shirts as outer wear, still wear big bulky chains and bracelets and those who look at me like I’m eating cat carcass because they don’t eat pork.
Heh. I figure a guy who worries about that, probably doesn’t realise that women talk to each other about stuff including dating. Blogging about it is not much different (although conversations can’t be googled, I suppose).
Giving fair warning and pseudonyms seems like plenty of protection (and let’s face it, we don’t even get that much when you go talking to your mates about us 😉 )
That’s right Snow Drops! When we’re talking to our girlfriends (and nowadays, even our male friends hear the tantalizing details of our escapades and sexapades), they hear it all.
Like I said, I’ll be considerate of privacy most times because I figure even my hidden identity in the blog world can be exposed.
This dude’s issues go deeper, he’s insecure. How do I know?
On our one and only date, he seemed in awe that he was even out with me.
Complimenting a woman on how great she looks is certainly acceptable. Acting like “Wow, I pulled HER?”. Not so much.
Thanks for commenting.
I have NEVER told anyone I am blogging! Probably horrible of me, but no. This is my safe place to share my stories, insecurities, etc.
Loverboy knows I used to write for an online magazine. He has joked about me blogging about him, but he didn’t flat-out ask, so I didn’t share. Plus, I have yet to share ALL those stories! I’m not opening up that can of worms…
Really? Never? I would have pegged you for one who would tell.
At times, I can see why keeping it to myself and my cackling girlfriends could be better.
For some reason, telling the hangovers that I blog makes them extremely curious. Did I write about them? Did I make them look good, bad or ugly? Did I share that episode when the penis didn’t perform right?
Then sometimes, I might have my own musings like Did he find the MDH link while using my pc? Is that why he’s mad at me? Am I paranoid because he jokingly called me Carmen Jones?
Hmm…something to think about when I get back into the dating scene.
I’ve chosen the month of March to dive in!
Well…. It can go both ways. The same thoughts this man may have just imagine, you could be on someone’s blog just the same.
Tell them all? Nah…Mention to some? Much better.
Moderation Silver. I’ll feel somewhat obligated to say something. Sometimes.
We’ll see how I handle this when I get my groove back.