So, believe it or not, he called.
I didn't see the message until I was getting ready for bed, so I didn't call back. And I'm in no mood to call back tonight. I'll probably wait until I don't feel perpetually on the verge of tears. A day or two?
That's not the dilemma.
The dilemma is this: Google.
The first thing that comes up when you Google me is this blog. (Yes, I checked.)
So as soon as he knows my last name, he knows all about... everything. Which makes things kinda complicated.
I mean, even if this blog didn't exist, he could find out a lot. What various bloggers and critics think of our books. My television credits. A variety of interviews and articles. How much I donated to Hilary Clinton's presidential campaign...
But I wouldn't normally bring up the fact that I'm trying to get pregnant on a first date. (Although, I did once-- before a first date, actually. We went out anyway. It was fine, but no more than fine. That was that.)
It's not like I expect anything to come of this, so it's not that big a deal, I guess.
He left his full name in the message, so I Googled him... and found a dentist from Cleveland and a Jamaican poet.
It just doesn't seem fair.