Every person out there knows the real dangers that come with blogging. Stalkers and other unsavory people can troll the internet, scouring the pages for crumbs about your personal life - things like where you live, where you work and what your real name is.
Other people, not so dangerous people, can stumble on to your blog and read things that shock them. Drool over nuggets that make them gasp, point fingers in shame, erupt in laughter at your mistakes and trials, and empathize in your heartbreak.
Its this second group of people I really worry about.
These people are your future employers. They're your future friends and they're your future loves. This same group of people includes past enemies, past acquaintances and other folks you've crossed paths with.
I have now had relationships with two men who've searched the internet for my blog.
I told the first one about it and he made it his mission to find it. John gave me a heads-up that he was going to find it or die trying. My religious IP number tracking (get a counter - you'll see what I mean) turned up the moment he found my little literary playground.
John came clean about his discovery pretty quickly, and we'd discuss things I wrote about on here. Then he found some old posts mentioning how Kate wants to get married and Kate wants to have a baby and Kate is a big time family-oriented person and he got a little freaked out.
And John fessed up about his freak out.
We talked about it and John said he wasn't so scared about my aspirations (considering they're the same as lots of other chicks out there) but that he was skittish because my hopes and dreams were there in black and white.
That's what happens when you go trolling for blogs, you find things that may freak you out, no matter how benign the subject matter.
John said he still wanted to see me, but that he decided he would opt to NOT read my blog and we would continue to see each other. John and I parted ways at the end of June as friends (I think we were both looking for something a little different) and we still touch base from time to time.
The Biscuit is a different story.
I never told The Biscuit about my blog but he found it anyway. He trolled away and uncovered it pretty much 24 hours after we met and started reading it continuously. I was a bit irked because he never mentioned reading it, even after my subtle mentions about Kate's Random Musings.
The idea of The Biscuit and Me recently went South (not in that way, you dirty bird!) and The Biscuit now tells me finding and reading this blog was his biggest mistake in our brief relationship.
And that's the rub.
I could close up shop, stop revealing my little idiosyncrasies and foibles and hy-jinks, making things safe and anonymous next time somebody does a Google search on my name or discovers I have a blog.
I can plow away at my writing, tuck away little memories and thoughts and observations I have about the world for another day, a day when I decide to write the Great American Novel (or at the very least something you'll find someday in the Bargain Bin at Borders). Toiling with words and situations that nag and grate on me until I let them settle on the World Wide Web.
And that's the road I've chosen.
This blog is to me what Song of Myself was to Whitman, and I don't really care what people think after reading it. What you find on these pages is the essence of me, and I am proud of or responsible for the ideas/experiences I chronicle here.
Which brings me to Charlotte. That's who I am, for those of you in the know with the Sex and The City lingo.
I want a family. Check. I want kids. Check. I want to be deeply in love. Check.
What's there to be ashamed of there? These are my hopes, and dreams and aspirations, yes, but that doesn't mean I really expect every man I date to marry me. One philosophy I buy into: every date is a prospective mate, and that's something I consider when dating guys.
I would never date a guy I wouldn't want to take home to Mom and Dad.
So if this freaks out some guy when he reads my blog, then I guess that's too bad. Because I pretty much have my head screwed on straight about life and my issues (especially the issue about wanting to get married) pale in comparison to the issues of other chicks in the world.
Any guy who can't handle that is the wrong guy for me.