Me and my big dumb mouth

Last night I had a lovely Sunday dinner with some of the other YSAs (or "Young Single Adults," as our Church likes to call us, which is a nicer name than "That Rabble Who Can't Get Married"). One of the guys mentioned that he'd recently started reading the Times & Seasons website, and that he was really getting into the whole blogging thing.

This is where, without thinking, I piped in with, "Hey, me too! I even have a blog of my own and it's funny!"

Whoops.

Him: "Really? I'd like to see it! What's the address?"

Me: "Ahhh . . . I don't remember. And maybe I don't actually have one, now that I think about it."

Him: "Come on, I'd be interested to see it."

Me: "Ennnnhhh . . . Nnnrrg . . . . tssssss . . . . "

Okay, see, it is one thing for people who already know me pretty well to get on here. They can filter through the hyperbole and the neuroses. And it's another thing for strangers to get on here. They don't know me at all. And it's okay for people who maybe know me a tiny bit to be referred by someone else, because then it's like I've already been given an "It's okay, she's not crazy or anything" stamp.

It's quite another thing for someone I've just barely met, who is connected to a group I'm just barely getting to know, and with whom I would like to be friends, to get on here and read about how I don't bathe and how I think my ovaries are possibly drying out and how these English kids keep dragging me to bars. (Although, now that I think of it, I probably mentioned the part about the bathing and the ovaries at Sunday dinner. Or not. I was crazy drunk at the time, so I don't remember.)

Of course, this could be a good thing. We could end up with lots of fun new British friends on here, and it could be this great International Place of Anglo/American Friendship. Or they could get on here and think I'm making fun of them, and get mad and never invite me to anything ever again, and I will die alone on the moors. Or they could get on here and then I wouldn't be able to tell you things that I normally would, like about how everyone is really huggy out here, and that [deleted for protection of idiot writer]

Anyway, if this guy wants to find me, he probably could. I just found myself in two clicks from the Times & Seasons homepage. Tonight we're all going out to dinner, so if he asks for the address again I may just have to give it to him. It's hard to say no to men who ask for things in British accents. I'll be sure to post something like "The Redcoats are Coming!" just so everyone knows. (No offense intended, of course, to our resident Redcoat, the lovely and talented Julie!)

Also I'll have to delete the part about the hedgerows.

Posted in: England