My sister, Megan, mentioned it only a few years late. "Your blog? It's kind of funny sometimes." Now she reads it everyday.

And my mom and dad check in now and again. I never know until I get a frantic call like the one a weeks back. My mom played an alarmist Jiminy Cricket, insisting I return the book I accidentally shoplifted before I get caught, arrested, and imprisoned and live a life of destitution, prostitution, and various other -utions, all very bad.

But most people who hang out with me regularly don't read the blog. Honestly, I suspect my girlfriends don't like my writing or maybe they know me enough already. They've heard most of the interesting stories and anecdotes, so why get online and rehash them in a much more polished format?

I've never been one of those people who advertises the blog to co-workers, random acquaintances, and the like. When people come into the fold, I'll mention the blog. I'll send the url once and that's it. However, I yearn for a readership like a flat-chested twelve-year-old yearns for a real bra. I guess I just want people to come to my blog honestly.

But there's an exception to that, or was one: I used to tell guys I went out with about it right away in this very Super Mario Brothers world's-last-level kind of way: "I'm sorry, but the princess isn't here! But there's this thing on the Internet full of a bunch of random stuff about her that may help you on your mission."

It really got to me that one time a guy didn't care to potentially read about himself online. How does one turn down such a thrilling prospect? It kind of hurt. But maybe he was on to something. People blog with motives and subjectivity and poetic license. Reading about oneself can be hurtful. And it's a pain for me to handle the questions that can come from posts. "Were you talking about me? Are you trying to be passive-aggressive? Why do you portray me as an idiot?" Answers: Maybe. Nah. It's funny.

It really wasn't a big issue when Cade and I were together - the blog was more of a uniter than a divider. Honestly, I had an image and relationship to maintain, so I definitely delivered the expurgated version. I question doing this. Maybe I shouldn't have, but is anyone totally raw on the Internet? I think not. Everything should be written at some point, but not necessarily by me.

And then there are other things I really want to blog that someone else puts the kibosh on. Like that time _________________________________. That was so very bloggable. My family members have prefaced entire conversations with, "Don't even think about blogging this," and I have promised silence. Sometimes begrudgingly.

So I've been going out with this guy who is so nice and fun and Jewish, which you know I love. He hasn't read the blog at this point, because it was time to switch things up. I didn't want to have the last few blogged years of my life at his feet like pulp from a dropped watermelon, sticky and pink, while I was still slowly getting to know him. Worrying about pacing and googoo eyes in real time occupies enough romantic energy, so why also deal with the nagging worry that he'll read too much - or not enough - into something?

But I'm doing it. Things are going well enough. I know enough about him that I won't feel overexposed, or at least, he knows enough about me not be shocked. I think. I'm not ready to out him on the blog by any means, but he just might deserve a reasonably pleasant post.

Like me, like my blog.