If you’ve been following my blog, you may realize that no person who knows me in real life is aware of my blog. (There are reasons they aren’t allowed in, but that’s not what this is about.) Since they are not here, nobody who knows me knows about my internet fiancé, Brett. (If you missed the original post that started this, check this out and don’t forget the comments.)
That started what has turned into a wild, emotional, roller-coaster ride bridging the gap between reality and cyberspace. When we started talking about meeting, I decided to let my mom know this was going on. Not because it was such a big deal yet, but because if things progress to the point where it becomes a big deal it would only be fair that she had a heads up. (you can read that story here ) As you can see in that post, I left it to her discretion whether she thought it was worth troubling my dad about it.
I now had a Secret Squirrel who was in the know and supportive! It’s very hard to hold onto something like this all alone.
Two weeks ago I went to the symphony with my best friend Aphrodite. On the way up she saw the picture of the now-famous flowers,
which is the background on my phone, and asked who they were from and I gave her the whole story. She laughed a lot, not at me, but at some of the exchanges like the whole “axe-murder” thing, and at the concept of ME of all people in this kind of situation. (I am well-known for being defiantly single. I conscientiously avoid romantic entanglements. So this situation was cause for her enjoyment.)
With Aphrodite in the mix, I had just expanded my Secret Squirrel network to two. Better and better. And Aphrodite is a better sounding board, because she’s here all the time and of the right generation.
The other night at dinner, as I said here, I couldn’t help but mention this situation to The Nurse, because otherwise she was going to urge me into the Indianapolis dating scene. (Dating is torture, people TORTURE!...oh wait, The Nurse did play Nurse Ratched recently...) She didn’t take the situation seriously at all, but she still counts as a Secret Squirrel. That’s three Secret Squirrels!
|I like to imagine my Secret Squirrel Squad as Jedi Knights.
May the Force be with them!
Eventually, Mom did say something to Dad. All she told me about their conversation was that he was concerned that I’m “meeting strange men on the internet”. …I don’t know where my dad wants me to meet strange men, or how he could possibly guess that Brett might be “strange”, but apparently that was the concern.
I don’t think he counts as a Secret Squirrel, because he did not hear it from me. So I’m calling him The Mole.
Meanwhile, I have continued to be in regular contact with Brett. We are getting to know each other quite well, I think.
After thinking about it for a while, and not hearing anything directly from my dad, I decided maybe the time had come to broach the subject (and encourage him to put down the axe). I emailed him to let him know that I had done my due diligence in looking into Brett’s character. I stated in no uncertain terms my opinion that it’s a plus that this started growing with no consideration of physical attraction. Then I called Dad out:
Also, it occurs to me that you and mom met by mail, through a friend of a friend as I recall...or was that a friend of a friend of a friend?... and is that really so different after all?
For real! They wrote letters for I don’t know – a year? More? – before meeting. How's that for irony? (or is it ironic...I'll have to check The Oatmeal.)
I think my email helped. After telling my dad about the whole “axe-murderer” theme, his response was to remind me of the variety of rifles and shotguns he has. Haha, Dad!
But he’s still not a Secret Squirrel.
It’s really funny to me, and I think to Brett too, how non-serious this is to people in the real world, because of the “met on the internet” part. And yet I know we both have readers who LOVE this stuff and are rooting for us. YOU, my blogging buddies, are the real Secret Squirrels. And as much as we are trying to keep things off the internet, to separate cyberspace from reality, trust me: you know the facts!