The thing that sucks about having a blog is that people can always keep tabs on me whether I like it or not. Odds are I’ll have very slim chances of knowing 100% if certain individuals are “keeping tabs” on me. I do not care if my parents read my blog-I honestly don’t know if they do-they are aware that I have this site, maybe they’re scared to read it…I do not know. My rule is that I don’t write anything that I wouldn’t talk about to them, the most “scandalous” thing about me is that I work at a strip club, and as strange as they find it they do have great sense’s of humor…so there you go.
The annoying category of people that I’m referring to about keeping tabs on me, is that category of ex-boyfriends, and a few guys that I’ve seriously dated.
Do these guys ever “check up”on me? I don’t have a clue.
A guy that I briefly dated four years ago, just got married. We are Facebook “friends” and he posted pics of his wedding up for all to see. Am I over him romantically? Absolutely. Was it weird seeing him in wedding pics with someone else? Absolutely. Did I cry about this? Hell no! It was still just plain weird though!
When we dated, every other word out of his mouth was “marriage”, “kids”, “family”, etc…when a guy brings that stuff up…you think he’s considering it with you, right ladies? So sure I thought he was into me…but that wasn’t the case. The last time I really spoke with him about anything that actually was substantial and not fluffy or insincere was over three years ago during our breakup conversation. His reasons for ending things, and for dating me to begin with, were ridiculous and questionable. The lines from that convo I’ll never forget:
“Well…you’re definately the hottest girl I’ve ever dated!” Okay…as if that’s supposed to make me feel better? I know you have good intentions, but I’d rather be the nicest than the hottest…or maybe a combo of the two…you know?
and my fave, which still makes me cringe…
“You’ve got a lot of potential as a person.” Wow! Thanks!
For some reason, I still have some really dramatic post-breakup emails that he sent me, and some photos that he took of me on the beach in Malibu. (Perhaps I’ll take the emails and turn them into monologues or something. They are actually quite entertaining to read now.)
I have a very vivid memory, but only about CERTAIN things. It’s not selective, it’s just plain odd. I remember a lot about the day he took the photos on the beach…what I wore, how baggy my jeans were, and how they were annoying me, what we ate, drank, how it was probably too cold to even be on the beach that day and why we were even there. Was this his “date spot”? He wanted me to climb on a rock for a photo, but I refused because it was too slippery and I didn’t have health insurance at the time. I also remember thinking that maybe if I really liked him, maybe I would’ve climbed up on that rock for the photo opp-sans insurance and all…but I doubted his intentions about why we were dating from the get go. Looking at those pictures, which is NOT something I do on a regular basis, weirds me out. The only good thing from that relationship was this pic. I think it’s an amazing pic…although I wonder how many other women that he dated, may have similar photos to this one.
Does he read this blog? Highly doubtful.
Things further complicated. I ended up “quasi-long-distance-dating” one of his closest friends (he wasn’t thrilled, but he was the one who dumped me so he had no real right to cop a ‘tude!). I believe that his friend was the one that got away. I played that situation completely wrong and I fear it’s THE relationship that made me open my eyes and learn from mistakes. I am not “friends” with this person on Facebook, myspace,or any other social networking site. After we stopped talking deletions were made. I have no idea what this man is doing now. His Fbook profile is private, and his default pic is pretty much of an inanimate object. I have NO idea what his life is like now. It drives me crazy. I have no way of keeping tabs on him. He could be married,engaged, having kids, I have not a clue. If I were to find out that he was any of those things, I don’t think I’d want to know. It makes me sad. We were close friends, or I thought we were for awhile…then things just eventually dissipated.
The last night we hung out, we went to a biker bar strip club in Brooklyn where there were pregnant strippers. Tranny ones…you name it…they had them. I didn’t have the best time because I was so nervous and paranoid while we were out, and just plain confused. We left the bar almost immediately, and it was snowing a lot. I remember the grey dress I was wearing, the snow boots, and how hard it was to get a car in the middle of nowhere BK. He awkwardly hugged me. A few weeks later, he sent me an email saying that it was too confusing and caused “too much weirdness” to be friends. He sincerely apologized…but we haven’t spoken since. The day after that email…I was on the cover on the New York Post. I have no idea if he saw it. I have no idea if he reads this blog.
It’s amazing how the internet can do one of two things to a person. If you choose to be, you can be all over the net. I’m not saying that I’m ALL OVER the world wide web, but if you google me…along with this blog, you’ll find lots of stuff. So whether I like it or not, some ex out there may be keeping tabs on me..I just don’t know for sure.
With some of my exes, they’ve managed to retain a lot of anonymity and they have common last names which can be beneficial to them, if I,or anyone else, tries to google them. The exes I don’t care to know about I can easily keep tabs on. The ones that matter the most, remain a mystery to me, and maybe that’s for the best.
Speaking of keeping tabs.
Last night I met a man at work who was somewhat paranoid. His ex-wife had hired a private detective to follow him around the city. He received an email on his blackberry from his mother at 11:00pm asking him, “Why are you in a strip club? WIFE, just called us and told us that you’re in one? Can you please let us know why?” I felt bad for the guy that his parents were calling to check up on him, but I did make a point to try and figure out who the private detective was in the club…and I think I did a pretty good job of figuring out that it was an inconspicuous duo in a corner drinking bottled water at 2:00 in the morning, looking completely sober and bored, while occasionally glancing over at me. That’s when tab keeping really sucks.