(I guess that hardly narrows it down. For you, too, are alarmingly beautiful. Unless, of course, you're a guy — and then you're just plain dashing.)
Anyway, she turns her eyes on me and claims to know all about me — from reading Net Cotton Content. For, beyond this blog (and the correspondence it sparks), we hadn't ever had more than one short conversation.
I was charmed — and a little spooked.
You'd think by now I might expect some folks to believe they know me.
After all, I've gone into several client meetings over the past couple of years and found out — sometimes over time — that the clients have been reading my mind. They know my stories before I tell them.
And wonderfully efficient. We can take turns leaping to the punch line.
But reading Net Cotton Content doesn't reveal me completely. I'm not that good a writer.
What To Tell
Another ABR said recently, "I don't understand social networking. I don't understand hanging everything out there. It creeps me out."
"Me, too," I told her. "I certainly don't put everything on the blog."
I know what you're thinking: "Gimme a break. Whatever could he be leaving out? We've read about his failures in business and his inadequate marital infidelities, his evolving psychology and his midlife crisis. If there is any more, pray tell, don't tell us."
"Do You Lie To Me?"
When our daughter was very young, she asked, "Do you and mom ever lie to me?"
"No," I said. "But we don't tell you things that we think won't interest you." That was my way of saying,"We're telling you the truth, but we aren't telling you every truth."
I don't include everything in Net Cotton Content. I leave out the things that I think wouldn't interest you. And, of course, the stories that aren't mine to tell.
I think I am an amplified introvert.
Out there — but still choosing what to type.