No One Seems To Be Forgetting

Maybe everything I write in here will be used against me.  Maybe I am just making the already daunting task of dating that much harder on myself because any man that wants to know me can simply type my name into a search engine and discover pretty much everything about me.  They will learn my interests and hobbies, my career, about my friends and family, and my relationship history.  Hell, it's become public knowledge, at no one's fault but my own, that I have a bizarre fetish for choking.  Oh well, it's already been published.  It's out there - and people can not unread it. 

So I went out with this guy the other day.  I don't know if it would qualify as a date, as much as just "grabbing beers".  I was nervous, like I get when I go out with men and I have to try to be all charming and witty and not talk about things like ex-boyfriends or being choked out.  We were having a really nice time.  Which I was a bit surprised by, I felt like in this particular pairing I was going to be too dominate (when am I not too dominate though?).  As the evening was coming to an end, and we were evaluating where a night of drinking and banter would leave us, his analysis of the situation caught me off guard.  And not exclusively because he wasn't trying to get his hand up my shirt.

Outside of a few other minor setbacks in our relationships to one another, he had said that it was evident that I am still hung up on my exboyfriend.  I don't even know if he can be called an exboyfriend, as much as that guy I wasted a large majority of the last year on.  Is there a title for that? Oh yes, I do believe its an HSF.  Regardless, this upset me.  Because I had been extra careful not to discuss HSF any more than prompted to while we were out.  So I couldn't quite figure out what he was basing this on.  Then it occurred to me that for as long as this guy has known me he has been exposed to my blogs, my facebook, my twitter - so absolutely would it be fair for him to think that.

So am I still hung up on my ex?  Well, it was less than 2 weeks ago that he was literally inside me.  So maybe, yeah, a little.  Not to mention it has become increasingly hard to get over him with having to see his stupid sandy blonde head every time I have to put a trombone on the delivery shelf.  So after this particular gentleman left for the evening, with not so much as a good night kiss, my anger and red wine got the best of me - and I expressed to HSF that he needed to find a new job.  I am not going to miss opportunities to connect with new people because my social media profiles read me like an open book, and sends giant red flags to the universe that this is still an issue in my life.  He needs to go, or I need to stop expressing every last emotion I carry with me on the internet.  One of those things is not going to happen.  And it doesn't involve making minimum wage whilst vacuuming clarinet cases.

But with the HSF bullshit aside, I am still going to have to come to terms with what men are able to deduct about Katie Keller from the internet.  Specifically this blog.  I mean, this poor guy who shared 3 beers and half of one shot with me on a Wednesday night probably didn't know he would inspire an entire blog entry.  But he did.  And that's the risk you run when you spend time with me romantically or otherwise.  Hell, a conversation with Curtis just last week provoked a currently unfinished blog entitled "Blow Job Queen".  I write my life.  I make no apologizes for that.  But now I'm finding that it is probably hurting me more than anyone else.  Except for the guy that smelled like hamsters.  I still think I hurt him more.