Sometimes it's nice to be realise, unexpectedly, that your non blogger friends do read this thing. At other times it reminds me I should be careful what I write.
Case in point, mere MINUTES after putting up my (ahem) Mark Hamill post I received a text message from my lovely sister being not so lovely: "Mark Hamill? I can't let that one pass - ew" or something along those lines. Fine, fine, I knew there would be people who could never understand our love. Then onto dinner at a friend's house where, between snickers, another friend recounts for the benefit of others, my little Hamill fetish.
The thing is that, explained on the blog in my own voice, I almost certainly say things I wouldn't generally make public knowledge. I have not, for instance, ever been known to shout "break me off a piece of that" during Return of the Jedi, nor discuss my breakdown in the frozen food section with those near and dear to me lest I sound like a)I have extremely suspect taste, and b)I am losing it.
Remove the context, though, and it all sounds a bit grubby. Listening to someone else explain it I slowly start to realise that a fair chunk of the people I know and see regularly, at least those who are computer literate, now think I'm some sort of weirdo who attends Star Wars conventions and dons a gold bikini in the bedroom to live out some weird Jabba the Hut fantasy.
Not that I could possibly comment on that.