The related posts link at the bottom of yesterday’s post linked to a long forgotten moment in my Christmas history. Actually, it linked to the follow up post, but I will link to both of them. For you old timers, do you remember this?
Ooooops. (Read this one first)
Unfortunately, the comments got deleted somehow when I transfered to wordpress, but the gist was that people tried to convince me to be honest with Mr. A about what had happened and surely he would understand and forgive me.
I thought you were all Crack Smokers. (Read this one second)
It was only when I reread that post last night, that I realized I had never told Mr. A (nor did he know the real source of the nice knife sharpener we now own). I called him in and let him read the posts.
In case you were wondering, three years later he ALMOST thought it was funny. I, on the other hand, chuckled about it all evening.
Those posts were a good reminder about why I blog. I would have only vaguely remembered that day and the scene in the car if I hadn’t written those posts.
I have blogged for about four years now and I have always tried to be as honest as possible here. There have been moments when I had to hold information back for a while, but I believe honesty is the best policy why bother at all?
That being said, the Next Big Thing is in the discussion phase and I can’t write about it openly here without jeopardizing the plans. Given the previous malicious bullshit from some jerky trolls, despite my efforts to convince Mr. A, he is steadfastly against any public discussion.
This is a total bummer for me. I want to write about it because it is exciting and I want to remember those feelings later when it either happens or falls through. So this is what I am going to do:
I am going to write an occasional password protected post about it.
But there is a caveat!!!!
I am not sharing the password now. I am just using it as a way to archive the posts until they can be published publicly.
I will put them all in their own category to be unpassworded once I get Mr. A’s ok. You can read them then.
You don’t need to be concerned that there are some cool kids with the password and you don’t have it. That always drives me crazy. The posts are just for me right now, not for public consumption.
So when you see the PW protected posts, just ignore them.
Hopefully, someday way off in the future, they will still be as interesting as that Oops post was to me last night.
I forgot all about that Christmas post! I love John Denver and the Muppets too!
Um, John Denver and the Muppets? This is a different side of you ; )
jb and I have had some of those interactions, in that he is not as respectful of my stuff as he is with his-so sometimes I jump to the wrong conclusion. My strategy is to apologize profusely when it happens so that I don’t lose credibility for the other times-but his personality is such that it goes away immediately after that, so I don’t need to worry about living it down.
That’s sort of why I’m password protecting my adoption trip, though I don’t mind anyone reading it now-I want to archive it, but I don’t want her 4th grade friends to be able to dig it up on the internet. Ok, so the archiving part is the same and the rest is different… ~lmc
Ha! I remember that. I would’ve told my husband, but only because I can’t keep secrets from him.
That’s exciting about TNBT! I have a guess what is. Hopefully it won’t take four more years before we get to find out.
I dreamed that you hired me to take care of your kids during the day. No idea what I did with mine in the meantime or what you were up to (it wasn’t a “job”).
You had a really cool house!
I’m glad we can read about TNBT someday, because I like your writing.
not nly do I remember that, but I can’t believe he never found out! I guess he really doens’t read your blog unless you point him to it! wild!
Okay, so we can’t talk about the Next Big Thing. But you’re going to password protect the posts. And then we’ll see them. But we can’t read them. Are you sure you’re not trying to kill us?
I **know** it sucks. It has been driving me crazy that I can’t talk about it at all. There were huge negotiations last week in which I tried to convince Mr. A to let me post about it just a tiny tiny bit. In one of the rare arguements in our relationship, I lost.
When you consider that this is a man who lets me talk smack about his mother AND his silly speedos all over the internet, when he says no, it is a really big deal to him.
Maybe I can backdate the posts somehow so they won’t show up in the regular posting stream to torment you. I will see what I can do.
You can give me the password. I would never tell anyone else. Come on, you can tell me. Pleeeeaassse
That was hilarious!! It sounds very familiar, especially the Christmas music that makes his ears bleed!!! I HATE going through the garbage but it happens…
I wasn’t reading then, but OMG! I would have died laughing at the time!!!!
On word press, you can make those posts drafts for however long you want… Why not do that? Then you won’t torment us!
Oh god, I laughed so hard I nearly peed. Probably TMI but on a blog, what’s TMI? That was great and humbling. I can think of a couple of occasions where I have been in the same place. No blog though, which is probably the safest thing for me.
[...] December 2, 2007 in Friends, Pie Tags: Beginning, Friends, Pie For years, my friend AmFam has harassed me to start a blog. My resistance has been equally insistent, practical and heartfelt. I was also secretly intrigued. Eventually I had to admit that fear drove my opposition: fear that my written record could be used against me (Anonymity! countered AmFam). It was this post that pushed me over the edge. When she opined that, had she not begun to post, she would only vaguely remember that precious time in her life, something inside me snapped. Maybe it was lack of sleep, or a sudden rush of hormones, but I had a vision of my own cherished son Pie padding down the hallway and, mid-vision, little feet still padding, he faded away. His almost-two-year-old feet were the last to disappear, leaving in my head a crummy empty hallway. It was a parody of a bad pro-life commercial. I was appalled. I became determined to keep my precious little Pie from becoming a vagary. (Did I mention the lack of sleep?) [...]