Meeting Dave

Today, I met Dave. He says I'm his 21st blogmeet. I find it difficult to do a reciprocal calculation for the simple fact quite a lot of the bloggers on my list, I knew well before I blogged, or knew they blogged.

I was late. I had to shout at the bank first thing this morning and when I got home I didn't want to leave for the eaterie, without doing the dishes first, in case he wasn't a serial killer, and I invited him back for a cuppa.

He began by apologising. He warned me that he talks alot. Yes, he does. And we talked pretty solidly for over 3 hours. I was concerned that as a Man of the Cloth, he would attempt to share with me the error of my ways, being a dippy-hippy pagan and all that. I could have saved myself the worry-time. He didn't try to convert me to the Dark Side and I didn't break out the Lions. Though I will say, at one point he talked about his love of cricket; I smiled and nodded. After all, it takes all sorts.

Note to Self: most people don't take it as a compliment if you point out that they are spitting images of your birth father, bar for the obvious racial difference. Strangely enough, he has a similar sense of humour and the same deep well of compassion. Perhaps that's why it was so comfortable?

When I figured out that he would make a lousy serial killer, I invited him back to the Palais de Roses to see the garden where the purple oriental poppy seed he brought, will be sprinkled. He is not partial to grass, but could see why I wanted to keep it. I think he approves of my gardening plans.

Dave has been blogging longer than I and when we talked about it, I realised that for both of us, blogging is a community made up of friends you wouldn't always meet IRL. But once people become blogging friends, they are solid and with you through thick and thin. They are the people you can reveal the parts others don't necessarily see in your day-to-day life. People who don't blog, don't get it. And that's fine. I would argue that us bloggers have a deep need to communicate, to create connections and through those connections, live a little. It's a way of having a bit of fun, exploring creativity, exploring personal issues, sharing yourself. It's a way of being seen and acknowledged. It's a way of getting to know people that you wouldn't normally think would be friendship material. Dave said to me as I rolled up my crafty smoke, that he wouldn't normally meet smokers in his day to day life. I think he's walking on the wild side!

Comments

  1. Nice one hon, though I think, as a pagan meeting with a man of the cloth, 'twas you who was walking on the wild side!

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  2. Well, I had a good time, anyway.

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  3. "I'll show you a path where the wild woodbine smokes"

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  4. cogidubnus ~ honey, as a pagan, that was tame!

    dave ~ I had an excellent time. I am definitely going to try and wangle an invite to the Wall Party.

    roger ~ I wouldn't want to encourage him. In fact, I wouldn't want to encourage anyone to take up that particular vice.

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  5. In fact, if I did any 'sharing of the error of your ways', it was questioning why you wanted to poison yourself. You're under no risk of converting me to the weed.

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  6. dave ~ I thought you were very restrained.

    But a single woman needs a vice and until Prince Charming comes along, or I give up (which ever happens first), I'll keep chuffing away.

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  7. Of course you're invited to the Wall Party. Though I've no idea when it's likely to be.

    First time I met Dave, the staff in the restaurant started putting chairs on the tables as a strong hint for us to shut up and leave.

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  8. z ~ hello again! I was leaving a comment on your page when you commented here.

    Funnily enough, the staff at 103 hovered, coughed politely and ended up plonking the bill on the table.

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  9. Well if Dave isn't keen on smoking then I suppose he wouldn't be keen on grass either.
    Sx

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  10. ms scarlet ~ very true.

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