At least *I* think it’s funny.
You see, I’m a blogger so everything I experience is an opportunity to write something about it:
- Kissing ex boyfriends in RVs at SoulFire.
- Taking a dip in the hot tubs with men of questionable repute.
- Peeing my pants in a onesie costume because I couldn’t get it off in time.
It’s all fodder for the blog. Even the stuff that makes me look like a nut case.
Sometimes I wonder how my friends and family REALLY feel about this blog.
Oh, of course to my face they like it and encourage me to write.
But really, deep down, how do they feel about being WRITTEN ABOUT and READING THE INTIMATE DETAILS OF MY LIFE.
There’s a saying among us writers:
If a writer falls in love with you, you never die.
There’s another saying though and it goes something like this:
Don’t piss off a writer. We’ll DESCRIBE you.
I just want to publicly thank all my friends and family who put up with me and this tacky blog – whether I’ve given you a nickname or not.
Every time I write about my friends and family, I do it with love and respect and of course a HUGE dose of courage that they’ll be okay with what I write.
Thanks to them for putting up with me.
It takes a good sense of humor.
It’s hard to date a blogger.
ESPECIALLY one as transparent as I am.
EVERYTHING goes on the internet:
You will usually find me blogging about whatever is on my mind from the men who capture my fancy, like The Swede; to past lovers who I remember fondly, like Jay and Charlie The Aussie; to men I fantasize about but can never have, like Alexander Skarsgård and Joe Manganiello.
I’d like to think I’m more of a lover than a hater. Unfortunately, the hate tends to be funnier than the love, like when The Hunk had an epic skill/equipment failure in bed with me.
I’ve been advised that the reason I’m single is because of this blog.
That might be true but I can’t help but feel like deep down, my blog will actually draw in the right man for me.
Imagine how nice it’d be to have all your experiences and secrets in one place where a person can read about them.
My thoughts. My hopes. My frustrations.
If a man can get through my blog posts AND STILL be interested in me, then he passed the test.
And the thing is, PLENTY of men like this blog and read it.
So there’s hope.
There’s a reason this blog is called unblunder…
Because everything seems wrong at first until it suddenly turns beautifully, epically RIGHT!
Am I a writer?
That’s a good question.
I certainly sit at the computer and type words into sentences on the screen.
But does that make me a writer?
I have a friend who is a published poet.
She writes amazing things that make me catch my breath and pause a moment in awareness that she has struck some significant sympathetic chord in me.
What do I write?
Blurbs about my life, dating, and the adventures that my life brings to me.
Occasionally, I SHOUT.
I’ve never really thought of myself as a writer.
Except that I am.
There’s more truth on the pages of unblunder than there is in the pages of an encyclopedia.
And occasionally there’s more depth – as evidenced by me admitting to experimenting with fringe sexual practices and chronicling my (mis) adventures, especially in dating.
Someday I may write a book.
But right now, I’m going to focus on this blog which is a guilty pleasure for many.
I’m trying to make sense of this world and my place in it.
Heaven knows I don’t have all the answers.
Although I’m reluctant to say it, I have to admit that I’m awkward.
And those of you who know me personally know this to be true.
Ever have a really funny exchange with me where we wind up just staring at one another, not saying anything?
Or have you ever heard me make a strange joke in the middle of a conversation then laugh at myself painfully until my laughter dies out?
Growing up, I was an awkward child. I hid behind my father’s legs and only came out to socialize when I was forced to.
My shyness sprung out of a strange habit I had of stammering. My stammer was so bad I saw a speech pathologist for it.
Eventually I grew out of the stammer but the awkwardness… well, that remained.
My parents entered me in a speech contest my sophomore year in high school to get me over my shyness.
All this did was teach me how to FAKE NOT BEING SHY.
Despite my awkwardness I’ve managed to be quite successful at dating by simply thinking fast on my feet and coming up with topics of conversation as quickly as a comedian spits out a come back.
But if you really want to get to know me, then the best way is to write to me.
I’m best with texts and emails. In fact, some of my most passionate love affairs and great friendships started out via texting/email.
So forgive me my awkwardness. It’s not for lack of interest. Talking just isn’t the best medium for me to express myself.
What can I say?
I’m a writer.
It’s how I work.