We're officially in three-digits now. This post marks my 100th blog entry. I feel I should come up with something legendary... but apart from a burp I can't feel anything coming. One thing is for sure though: one way or another I've probably managed to offend just about everything and everyone out there...
The blog started out as a way to vent my anger and frustration after yet another break-up and yet, now, several months later (and none the wiser) here I am, building a relationship with the very man who broke my heart.
In that light I wish I could at least share something momentous, like pictures of a tennis ball- sized diamond adorning my finger, but that, like Messiah, is yet to come.
I never saw myself as a blogger to begin with. First of all, I don't even look the part. I wear pearls, for crying out loud! I'm such an embodiment of conventional, middle class boring old fartness that my gay friends have wanted to throw theme parties where "everyone would dress in pearls and something checkered".
I don't wear those geek glasses that all those freelancing ADs that write blogs wear. In that charmingly post-ironic hipster way, obviously. There's depressingly little anything post-ironic hipster about me. I'm not even sure I know what that means.
I don't wear skinny jeans. Well, I do- they just fail to look skinny on me. I don't drive around on an old bike wearing a funny hat (yet another display of their post-ironic hipsterism, without a doubt) with a camera the size of my flat carelessly slung over a shoulder.
I don't own anything by any designer labelled "up and coming" in those magazines so underground and cool that I couldn't even name one. I don't even live in a trendy neighbourhood where I could ask someone.
My flat isn't decorated with painstakingly minimalist Scandinavian elegance. And I AM Scandinavian!
I don't Instagram. And I don't tweet.
My flat isn't decorated with painstakingly minimalist Scandinavian elegance. And I AM Scandinavian!
I don't Instagram. And I don't tweet.
So, I really am grateful for all you thousands (yes, over 4000!) of readers out there who have made do with me. Or who simply didn't have anything better to do.
Meanwhile a couple of dilemmas do riddle me, now that (I think) we're starting something new, me and The Man. I hate the idea of keeping secrets from him. And I hate the idea of somehow going behind his back and betraying his trust by treating this relationship as anthropological field research for more material to write about.
So...will I continue this blog? And more importantly... do I tell The Man about this?
Only you can decide whether or not to continue this blog. The rest of us can voice our opinions (such as the fact that I would like it very much if did continue writing this blog, as I enjoy reading it), but ultimately you'll have to make the choice. In my case, the Mr. made a few noises about the name I chose to call him in my cake/food blog, but in the end he got over that.
ReplyDeleteYou'll have to be the judge of The Man's ability and willingess to accept (or not) a blog like this.
As we spoke earlier, You should not tell Man about this blog. Not. But You can keep on writing about Your life anyway. Things regarding the Man and Your relationship may not be the main issue but somewhere on the background. Ja silleen.
ReplyDelete-younger edition of sisters