You know that I keep my identity under wraps, unlike my boobs and lips, which I tend to showcase like they’re going out of style. I do this because I want to be a Professor one day and I’m pretty sure Harvard doesn’t hire sex/dating/relationship bloggers. That being said I’m all about meeting people in real life. Showing them who I am. Hanging out. Chatting it up. Laughter chuckles jokes. Whatever.
So you can imagine that the idea of dating someone from Twitter sounded pretty awesome. In fact it became a thing I actively lusted after. Because after all, this would be someone who knows me. Someone who checks in everyday to watch me spout off about boobs and brains, boys and balls, blowjobs and baby batter. Someone who reads the blog and thus gets access to a basic step-by-step guide of how to get laid and not frustrate the fuck out of me. I mean it’s like a roadmap. A How-to handbook. A text of dating tips. A who’s who of quirks and flaws, eccentricities and strengths. An owner’s manual to well…fucking Me and even to…fucking me. It all seemed so easy and flawless. Or so I thought.
I mean where could it go wrong? It would be like having an opposite sex friend who knows all about the endless slutty things I’ve done. The time that stupid boy made me cry hurt-ego tears and the time that other boy enraged me so beyond belief I cried frustears (tears caused by frustration just in case that wasn’t super obvious). Because I think we all know Tin Man doesn’t spill real tears over boys. They would rust my armor. And this said guy on Twitter would have access to all my crazy and amazing dating stories. And of course, the key ingredient to this delicious soup. Even after all that, he’d still want to date me. The 80s Rom-Com practically writes itself.
Unfortunately like all pipe-dreams this whole dating someone from Twitter scheme was not without its hiccups. Things I had neglected to register while I put on my rose colored glasses and had a look around. I mean. Had I completely forgotten about my Datey-No-Facebookey rule??? (pretty self-explanatory…if we’re dating you don’t get access to my facebook…it’s simply too much information that you don’t need). It appeared I had. Because here’s the thing about Facebook and Twitter. It’s one of my big time dating rules. You should NOT under any circumstances I repeat!! Fucking NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES be friends with (FB) and/or following anyone (Tw) you’re dating (and vice versa). And here’s why.
The thing about Social Media is that it’s just a shitload of information. All the time. Nonstop. Fucking endless. And while I love it. Can’t-live-without-it type love. Who-else-can-I-share-my-two-liners-with type love. Where-else-would-I-post-all-my-ridiculous-inside-jokes type love. Need-my-daily-fix-of-witty-banter type love. Want-the-world-to-know-me-and-this-is-how type love. Not everybody needs to be inside this love.
When you start to date someone, they really don’t need to see all your cards. In fact it’s better if they don’t. They don’t need to know you’re feeling lusty right away which you tweeted about. And they don’t need to know that you’re dating 4 other guys which is what you posted as your Facebook status update…you player you. They also don’t need to see you having flirty conversations with 10 other guys on Twitter, who by the way you couldn’t be less interested in. But he can’t tell that. And while everything you do may be innocent. In fact, for all the person you’re dating knows, you actually dig them the most. And the other 3 guys are just a way to take the pressure off and keep your options open. Or maybe they’re not. But either way. It’s too much information way too fucking soon. And you just shouldn’t be doing it.
So like I said, you should not under any circumstances ignore the Datey-no-Facebookey rule and you most certainly should not ignore the newly develop #DontDateWhereYouTweet rule…especially if you’re like me and are a fucking Dating Blogger. As it would turn out, I of course, have a problem taking my own advice. And as the story unfolds, you’ll begin to see that I put the name Twidiot to good use. Naive, silly little Twidiot.
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Following our own advice is SOOO much harder than it should be…and I totally agree with your Twitter philosophy, it’s a lot of information for a person to have and also I wanna be able to use Twitter to say whatever I wanna say. I wanna be able to say how hot my boobs look without some guy thinking I was saying it for his benefit. I wanna be able to say what a douche my friend is being without her getting in her feelings, I’ll be over it in 20 minutes anyway – everyone is a douche sometimes. I wanna be able to say how horny I am without some guy that knows me not only judging me, but then picking up his phone and trying to hit while my force field isn’t at full power. The freedom of Twitter is not to be sacrificed for some date that will probably be wack anyway – plus I’ll wanna tweet about how wack it was and I’m not trying to hurt anyone’s feeling.
Can’t wait for more!