23 May 2012

DEAR DIARY

So, soz it's been a while, but I have to say, I have been in a bit of tail spin from the events of the past few weeks...

First of all, I would like to answer some of the people who have politely questioned the validity of THE RESPONSE.

I do agree having one of the 'subjects' find the blog and then respond in the manner they did, a fantastic marketing tool, but if you think that I am smart enough to a) have the foresight to plan such a thing and b) fabricate those comments, then you are giving me more credit than I'm worth.

Thanks, but speculate all you want, I did not write that response.

Second of all, HOLY JIZZ! Apart from a few sentences in text messages, that is the most communication he and I have ever had. I'm just so glad it took a blog, which you all read, to get a substantial response. If I had have known that I would have sent him the link myself.

Oh and FYI, I am now calling him The Gay-ish Guy - I'm sorry, but someone who wears an Australian Rugby Jersey to a gay bar is not a perfect 6 on the Kinsey scale.

You've gotta give me that.

Anyway thanks for the clarify Gay-ish Guy!

And third of all, I haven't written because he will read this *squeals*

I have to say, while I had no intention of The Gay-ish Guy ever finding the blog, there was a hint of intent considering it's published on the internet...kind of like leaving a diary open for the world to see and expecting no-one to read it.

I had a diary when I was 17 that I would pour all my pubescent hopes and dreams into. I even started each entry with 'Dear Diary' coz, of course, I was being ironic. Pfft.

I'm pretty sure unconsciously I wanted my mother to read it. I only hid it in the top drawer of my study desk. It was hardly going to take a forensic investigation to turn up it's whereabouts. You could say it was a form of rebellion - a finger in the face of my catholic upbringing, but I think I really just wanted to create some drama in my life - manufacture another reason for me to hate my family.

Of course my protests would be under the guise of the Bedroom Privacy Act of 1996, but when you emblazon the words 'My Diary' and 'Keep Out' across it in permanent marker, you might as well hold a book signing at your dressing table.

With that in mind, you could say I wanted The Gay-ish Guy to read the blog. Maybe because I wanted him to know how I felt. Maybe because I wanted the world to know how I felt. Maybe because I want a 3 book deal and Showtime to option it for a TV series *hinting* I don't know, but you can guarantee at the heart of it, I was wanting to create some drama. You've gotta admit, it's a pretty fucking juicy storyline.

But here in lies the problem: where does the blog post end and the reality begin? He is reading this right now, I might add. He has read all of the posts. He knows everything! I have no Aces up my sleeve because he holds all the cards and he is putting none of them on the table!

Granted the last post was somewhat of an answer, but if we are going to keep with card analogy (and I promise this is the last) it's like we are playing 52 Pick Up.

And I'm picking them all up!

I can't write about him any more, but for the sake of the blog I have to write about him.

DRAAAMA.

And I have to say, I kinda love it.

Continue the story here.

2 comments:

  1. I hope this mens you two have finally got together now....????

    ReplyDelete
  2. Less writing about thinking about writing about him and more writing about him please.

    maybe he's reading and maybe he isn't but its much more fun when you didn't care and were shooting from the heart.

    ReplyDelete

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