Monday, January 4, 2010

Why my life is an open book, apparently

I know the Christmas season is over, and all, but humor me here for a minute: What is the lamest Christmas present you can think of? Socks? A gift certificate for a store you never go to? A piece of paper stating ownership rights to your very own star? How about nothing at all?

"So, I know I sort of implied I had a Christmas present for you," he said as we sat in front of the fireplace, ("Not implied, stated," I responded), "but as it turns out...I couldn't find anything. I mean, I don't know what you like."

Isn't that lame, Internet? Don't you wish you could tell him how lame that is, and how in the future he should probably tell a girl before she slaves for hours over a hot stove making him delicious fudge? (Because, while in the grand scheme of things we may not know each other that well, figuring out what someone might like is not always a feat of rocket science.) Well as it turns out, you can tell him, Internet; you can tell him all this and more, because, hello, he is already here. In fact, he is probably reading these words at this very moment. Aren't you? Pete?

I tell you, there is nothing worse than confessing your deepest, darkest secrets to a guy, only to have him respond, "I know. I already read all about it." I am still not sure whether it was intended more in the spirit of confession or frustration on his part (as in, Good lord, woman, stop repeating yourself.)

It's not that I haven't been found out before, because I have, several times. (See Internet date #1, Internet date #2, and friendly French hotel owner.) My saving grace in those cases was that I had never actually written about the guy, whereas here, of course, I decided to wax poetic with a string of ego-swelling adjectives. (So much for playing it cool.) I think the moral of the story is that I should never get involved with any nefarious characters, because I wouldn't last a week in witness protection. I leave a bread crumb-ier trail than Hansel and Gretel.

So, anyone else out there I should know about? Ex-boyfriends, co-workers, family members, former elementary school teachers, Girl Scout leaders, "best friend" who made me cry in the fourth grade? Grandma? 'Tis the season to be honest, so if you're out there, it's time to 'fess up. Let's do it quick like a band-aid. For my sanity or lack thereof. Please?


  1. So are things still all with "Pete?"

  2. Ha, yes, let's all call him "Pete" and assume that I was thoughtful and considerate and took the time to give him a pseudonym. Unfortunately I am not and did not, which I am sure that he hates, especially after he specifically told me how he was glad that I didn't use his name. To which I said, "Oh, umm, I guess you haven't seen my latest post, then. Whoops."

    Anyway, Kym, I think you're missing a word there, so I'm not sure how to answer other than yes, things are still all something or other with Pete.

  3. does this mean you won't be allowed to tell us when you have sex?

  4. Hah. You should tell him that it's his own fault for being snoopy.

  5. Jessica, it's called doritos. That way it's like a secret code word and no one will know what we're talking about! (Leave it to me to call people by their real names and then create a code name for sex.)

    No worries, I will do my best to continue apprising you of my doritos consumption.

  6. How are people finding your blog!?? Do you give them your url when they ask for your number or what?

    Maybe it's just me but I'd immediately delete mine if i knew someone I know (or even worse: family!) was reading... Only complete strangers across the world can know my deep darkest secrets. haha.

    Thanks for sharing YOUR deep darkest secrets (and doritos consumption) with us though :)

  7. Yes, if only I could stop confusing those two things, Anonymous, so similar are they.

    Really, I was found out through a link on a mutual friend's (now long dormant) blog. I didn't even know Pete when she was originally blogging, and so it never really crossed my mind. (Ok, actually, it did cross my mind but I convinced myself that either a) no one knew or cared or b) someone had already found it, in which case the damage was already done. Turned out it was b).)

  8. Since he read your blog, he *knew* that not only were you expecting a present, you were excited by the thought. Furthermore, if he reads your blog, he should know that you deserve a present right about now.

    Shame on you Pete! Could you not have stopped at a gas station on the way and picked up a family size bag of green and red m&m's and a Willy Nelson's Greatest Hits cassette tape for goodness sake? Even a bad present is good if it's funny.

  9. pete, pete, pete...This is was so simple...DORITOS. BUY HER DORITOS. ye gods.

  10. Heh. I just stumbled upon your blog and have been here 2 hours! Love your writing, and I can relate to so much of it.. we seem to be leading parallel lives. Weird. Happy New Year - here's hoping there's lots good in store for you in 2010. I'll be back to see...

  11. I think everyone is missing out one very important point. The jerk didn't buy you a Christmas present. Ditch him.

  12. Umm . . . that should have been "still ON with Pete."

  13. I am not your grandmother and I do not know you in anyway as if I'd want to! Harlot! Even after he reneges on his promise of a gift, you still plan on sleeping with him, so long as he marginally gets by doing anything short of murder (though from judging you, maybe even that wouldn't stop a harlot such as yourself). Perhaps this time you should listen to some of these lonely, desperate women who frequent your writings and REPENT! FOR THERE IS ONLY HELLFIRE RESERVED FOR THE LIKES OF YOU! GOD HELP YOU! I hope the shame keeps you up at night.

    In other news, I am quite glad my grandchildren bought me this computer. Now I have entire days where I can practice my typewriting and watch cute kitten videos and HELP HARLOTS LIKE YOU REPENT! MAY THE WRATH OF GOD BE UPON YOU!

    Unrelatedly, Norton keeps telling me that I am unprotected. Should I be worried? Thank you in advance.

  14. Uh oh, Tarah. You better get yourself some virus protection, or soon your PC will be more riddled with infection than those harlots you're praying against.

    Keep up the good work with the typing! You seem to be having some trouble with the caps lock, but with a little more practice I'm sure you'll get there.

    Love in kittens,

  15. Tarah just cut back on her medications and is not legally responsible for her comments.

    What's a harlot?

    And this is turning into a snack-food blog with all the references to Doritos (which really are not good for you). Unless of course that's a metaphor for something else.

    Say ... I bet harlot is a bad thing.


  16. Incidentally, I am neither your ex nor your grandmother, but I like your blog a lot. And I understand your paranoia *completely*.

  17. I once knew you IRL, but I am neither your ex nor your grandmother. Knowing you helped me find your blog, but your honest and funny stories have kept me coming back for more. I don't even remember how I found your blog, although I think it had to do with facebook and tal's old blog.

    My own paranoia of the web keeps me from logging into blogger or commenting on any blog regularly. I have a Google alert on my name, just so I know what is out there. It is funny what stays out there. Really internet do you need to know I was a really slow cross country runner in high school, but you hide from the world I went to graduate school. Oh well, my current job now dominates both my online and real life existence. And an imposer is beginning to confuse the issue.

    All the best, please keep writing.