Ridiculously High Standard #10 – I am not the sum of my blog posts

When oh when will I learn. Never date someone who has read your blog – unless they are a blogger themselves and understand the medium. And even then beware.

BUT ESPECIALLY NEVER DATE SOMEONE WHO’S READ YOUR BLOG WHO DOESN’T UNDERSTAND THE MEDIUM.

I met someone a little while back, and we casually chatted for a while about school/work stuff, since we both went through the same program at university and are loosely in the same field. At that point, since I wasn’t thinking about anything beyond friendship, I mentioned I had a blog and gave him the url.

A few days after that we went out for dinner, and he couldn’t stop gushing about how much he loved my writing. That set off tiny warning bells, but I figured it wasn’t too bad. After all, still in friend territory. Except by the end of the night he did kiss me and we sortof had plans to see eachother again. I should’ve known better. I should’ve stopped things right then and there. He read my blog, it could never work out.

But, being the chump that I am, I go out with him for dinner again, during which I am called “the next Sophie Kinsella”, told multiple times that I should write a book, or for a magazine, or freelance, OR JUST GET PAID TO WRITE! GOOD GOD I AM WASTING MY TALENTS ON A BLOG!

So after that I ran screaming, right? Wrong. For I am Not. Smart.

At. All.

We went out one more time. And as we were having another round of really pleasant conversation, I start to say something – which he interrupts (oh! and he’s a chronic interruptor!!!) with “Oh I know what you’re going to say, you blogged about this.”

ACTUALLY YOU DON’T, BECAUSE I DIDN’T! OH MY GOD, HEAD EXPLODING IN 4, 3, 2, 1,..

BANG!

He made the fatal flaw of assuming that the entirety of my life is put out on the internet for the whole world to see, and even worse than that, assumed that there was nothing more to my life than what I put out on the internet for the whole world to see.

So I did what any passive-aggressive blogger would do. I used the power of my blog for evil, instead of good. I posted details of my life that I may have left private if I had thought there was a future with this guy. And I posted them in a way that left them very open to interpretation – because I knew he would read them, and assume they were monumental to my existence, instead of just passing blips on the radar.

Things like being smitten with boys with dark rockstar hair and big brown eyes. When this guy happens to have blonde hair and blue eyes and he looks more like an accountant than a rock star. Did anything happen with a brown eyed boy? Who knows. I certainly didn’t say one way or the other.

Or like celebrating a year of being single with “nookie and pannekoeken” – with myself? with someone else? with someone I’m dating? with a friend with benefits? with a dog? I didn’t say, and the blogosphere, and this guy, will never know.

And since those entries, his number has mysteriously ceased to appear on my incoming call display.

Although he did get one thing he wanted – I finally wrote about him. In his favourite category. Happy now?

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