I’ve discovered that the only person who actually thinks I’m anonymous is myself. Apparently, the Dr. Seuss post has been making the rounds with my name tagged on, ‘net acquaintances don’t even attempt to obfuscate how they know me, and young singles sitting around at weddings dissecting their favorite Bad4 posts chirp “speaking of the devil” when I walk through the doors.
I really don’t know how Hannah Montana pulls it off.
Seriously, what am I to think when an offline acquaintance leaves a table of young ladies, comes over, and says, “They all seem to know you over there.”
Me: “Really?” looks over and hardly recognizes a face.
Her: “Yeah, they were saying some interesting things about you.”
Her: “Very interesting things.”
Me: “Really? Like what?”
Her: “Oh, is that OldPal over there? Catch you later.”
Or how about this one, from a random person in a random place at a random time: “So I heard you have a blog?”
Since there’s been some chatter in the threads about bleedover between blogging and real life, I thought I’d mention: Hey, people – I’m anonymous. At least let’s pretend, okay?
So, how has blogging affected my life?
Not drastically. I still rise early, study hard, eat a lot of chocolate, and occasionally go on dates, sometimes even good ones.
Then again, I’ve gotten some of my best dates via fellow internet denizens. And, recently, I’ve realized that the ‘net is the only reason I still have friends to hang out with.
Sad but true.
Is it just me, or are Real Life people less flexible than internet ones? I officially gave up on getting together with my high school/seminary friends after a very frustrating attempt at throwing a Chanukah party. Some of them I can still catch one-on-one, with appointments scheduled weeks ahead and confirmed several times up to the hour before, but after a while you wonder if it’s worth the effort. Heck, for all I know they’re avoiding me.
Internet people, on the other hand, never seem to have much else to do. I dunno why it is. It’s not like they haven’t got school and jobs. But for some reason they’re willing to make the effort to hang out. This dichotomy requires further study – I’m going to add it to my list of potential Ph.D thesis topics.
Finally, the question – do I tell my dates about my blog? Heck no. There are already enough smug men out there casually tossing out, “Oh Bad4? Sure – we’ve been out,” some of them even accurately. (And some not so accurately. I stopped keeping track of how many other people are me a long time ago.) I’m saving that revelation for the “skeleton in the closet” conversation, where he confesses to nervous eating and plastic tablecloths, and I confess to compost and blogging.
Though I do wonder if I’m really anonymous on dates. Especially when I’m set up by online people. How do they explain knowing me?
But no guy has ever pointed and laughed, “Ha ha! You outted yourself. That story is from Bad4’s post on comparative matchmaking.” Neither has a guy ever mentioned anything he read here or confessed to reading blogs at all. Possibly I don’t date the crowd who reads me. Or maybe they’re saving it for the skeleton-in-the-closet conversation. “I know… I knew all along…I’m an obsessive reader.”
Now that would be creepy. I mean, it’s amazing what people can keep hidden when they think it’s bad for shidduchim.