party aftermath

I don't know whether this is apparent or not, but some of my friends don't know I have a blog. Some know and don't read, like the Benevolent L, and some just don't know. Obviously, my work friends don't know, even the ones I am really, really fond of, like our lil MILF or my boss/mentor. Being as I am an old woman, I have learned from long experience that it's best to keep some distance and not let the people who you have to interact with professionally know all your business. That's why when these women I work with have, for example, a totally inappropriate conversation about how old they were when they learned how to masturbate, I stay in the next room, laugh absolutely silently, and keep my friggin mouth shut.

But then there are other friends who just don't know because, seriously? I am not sure they have any idea what a foul-mouthed, sexually warped, mentally ill, white trash specimen I am, and I've always sorta thought maybe I should maintain the illusion. Not that any of them are the type of person to judge, per se, 'cause you know I'm not friends with people like that, but y'know. Someone's gotta have a good opinion of me.

But I was at a get-together the other evening with a bunch of these people. My friend G, who is a really sweet and hysterically funny guy, as well as being a treasure trove of pop culture allusions was there. His latest obsession is with Grey Gardens, both the doc and the movie, and he kept me laughing all night by randomly quoting Little Edie's lines to me. (I really admire that skill in people--I cannot quote movie or TV lines at all, even of stuff I've seen a thousand times.) He also educated me on the existence of manhunt, which is apparently the largest gay pickup site on the web. I was like, why haven't I ever heard of that? I mean, I'm not a gay man, but it seems like the kind of thing I would know, doesn't it?

Anyway, I was talking to G, and I had my coat on to go already. (I was waiting for a couple other friends who had kindly offered to drop me at my door to get their stuff together to leave. I think they probably had second thoughts after they found out how hard it is to get back on the highway from my house, but it was a generous gesture.) Anyway, the topic of how the bus that goes by my house is the prison bus came up, and I didn't really have time to explain this to G. And since I had had, um, a little bit of prosecco and a lot of cheese, and my judgment was probably not at its peak, I said to G, "Oh, it's all on my blog. I have a blog. I'll send you a link."

And then, y'know, I realized that my last post on here was about my short term disability insurance. Which is probably a good way to entice someone to never ever read your blog again, right?

So I'm asking for help, guys. Everyone be really witty and entertaining in here this week, so I can send G a link in a few days, 'k? I'll do my best to overhear some inappropriate conversations, but I can't promise anything.

xoxo