They say 'The truth shall set you free'. Well all it seems to do is get me into a shit load of trouble. I got a phone call from my father this morning saying that he’d spoken to my Mum’s boyfriend (ah, the modern dysfunctional family), who has been reading my blog (!). He told my father about the incident where my friend made a pass at me. I thought my dad was about to demand the guy’s name, D.O.B., and address so he could make a Police report/punch his lights out. But oh no, Dad was only concerned that I hadn’t mentioned any names because he was worried about me getting sued. He obviously thinks that my life is far more glamorous than it really is, and has somehow mistaken the Mormons and charity workers who occasionally collect at my front door for paparazzi.

What kind of a world are we living in? Have we all gotten so media-obsessed, so celeb-crazy, so litigation-happy that when a woman shames, but doesn’t name, somebody who has been way out of line, our first thought is “hush, hush”? My experience was a minor misdemeanor, a lack of communication, but no wonder so many real sexual assaults go unreported.

I think this may be the end of my blogging, at least in its current format. It just seems to be causing nothing but trouble, as exemplified by what happened when I met a really great guy online last week. We chatted for ages on Skype, we really seemed to click. I didn’t think, “He’s the one”, but I thought that it would at least be the start of a new friendship. However, after he googled me and found me here at myspace I never heard from him again. It seems that he’s decided that I’m some kind of crackpot bunny boiler (personally I prefer the French, “lapin au bain marie”, eat your heart out, Nigella). Clearly he wants nothing to do with me.

People will always tell you that they want to see the ‘real’ you. They will tell you that they want to know the truth. In the immortal words of JN in “A Few Good Men” (how apt THAT title is), “you can’t handle the truth”. Nobody wants to know the truth. They want to see their version of your truth, which is probably about as far removed from reality as Iggy Pop is from his credibility as a rock star since he started doing those awful car insurance adverts (“sex and drugs and no claims bonus” – just doesn’t sound right, does it?). I realize this sounds jaded, but it’s not, and neither am I actually. I simply feel like I have some decisions to make. Do I;

a) Lock the blog down to ‘friends only’ – that way I know who’s reading it.
b) Move the blog and write under a pseudonym.
c) Only ever write positive things from now on (butterflies, lemon drops … but can I still keep the shoe references please?).
d) Stop blogging completely and get a (real) life.

The lines are open. Cast your votes now. I am especially interested to hear from guys; on a scale of 1 to “demented psycho bitch”, how do I rate? Please be honest. Brutally honest. If I have any more smoke blown up my arse the Vatican will be using me as a papal chimney. Oh and in case Mr-I-Don’t-Scare-Easily is reading this, would you just chillax? I am NOT a stalker. I have far too much pride and better things to do. But I could do with the name of your prop-builder mate so I can get that pole made. Pretty-mentally-well-adjusted please (with sugar/sucrose/saccharin) on top?