Blog about me, damn it!

By now, you've probably grasped the obvious. I don't learn from my mistakes. If something hasn't worked in the past or, in the spirit of accuracy, blown up in my face, I will gladly step back into the same mine field in the hopes of a different outcome. And now you have the foundation for the madness that may serve to partially explain why I keep telling guys I like about my blog.

The latest casualty of this war on common sense would be The Daily Show correspondent on whom I've had a crush since last fall. We met for a drink in LA during my recent visit and have since been IM-ing and occasionally talking on the phone. Last night, I talked to him after my blind date double-feature (see "Yale" and parental set-up in previous entry). He was a bit amused by it all and then commented on how much he enjoyed hearing about the shortcomings (ahem, pun intended) of other suitors because it made him feel superior. He suggested writing all of it down and I blurted out that I have a blog. Of course he wanted to see it. I stood my ground. Surely, I wasn't about to let the only man who I've had the inclination to play it cool with see how crazy I really was. He insisted and what did I do? I relented. Ten minutes later, I got this email: "who reads your blog? and how many people. cos it just seems like a diary to me, so why not just keep a diary. i couldn't find any reference to myself so i got bored, but nice job."

I was relieved. But if I could take a minor detour.. yes? Thanks. Let's talk about his frequency to declare that he's bored towards the end of our exchanges. We'll be having an IM conversation and without warning, I'll get an "OK, I'm bored. Ciao!" What the fuck? I'm usually left slightly annoyed and kicking myself for not beating him to the punch. Despite repeated warnings about his exit strategy, the offenses continued. So I sent him this:
I thought I could supply you with some alternative terms to your current exit strategy which is to declare: "I'm bored."
For obvious reasons, that's a tad irksome.
How about:
all right, (fruitloop/acereporter/sexy minx), I'm gonna (go/jet/verb of your choosing)
OR
as much as I would like to continue this conversation indefinitely, I must take your leave
OR
Tired of typing, will catch you later

How's that? All good options, even scripted for your ease of use. Now, don't let me hear, I'm bored again!

To which he replied:
lol.... thanks for your suggestions. i only use I'm bored because its provocotive and im a ... ( said with a french accent) "provocoteur"

I could have corrected his spelling above but that's his problem. Anyway, the aforementioned conversations prepared me for his blase reaction to my blog. However, I wasn't prepared for his ego to be bruised because I didn't blog about him enough. "It's like I haven't made an impression at all," he whined. He didn't get why in all my random star sightings, I never mentioned meeting up with him, my favorite Daily Show person. If I were really smart, I might have used this opportunity to strike a deal- my blog entry for an invitation to The Daily Show. Instead, I reacted like someone confronted by an angry acquaintance for not inviting them to a party (read: awkward and defensive).

I tried to explain that this was my attempt at being "normal" but he wasn't having it. "I mean we talked about so many things. You could have written about the exit strategy. Now, that's funny." Yes, perhaps it is. What I was thinking, yes, contrary to what you may have read, I do on occasion think about my actions beforehand. Anyway, I was thinking about how exposed HPG felt when he saw that he had become fodder for my blog. He actually believed that I was engaging him for the purposes of transcribing witty banter for my readers (I wish I was that manipulative and cunning, I'd probably be married to some rich old man and shagging the pool guy instead of peddling stories). But my judicious restraint in the wake of massive mayhem wasn't going to be applauded by this guy. He wanted validation and hence we have the first blog entry by request. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but I'm taking the one less-traveled. It's a dirt road, unpaved and yet, it still seems to lead to the same place.