Hello Paul and Corey! (aka "Damage Control")

Okay ... so ...

Dad and Sue are visiting at the moment. So that they could get a chance to see where I work and what I'm doing with my life, my boss Paul (aka PK) extended the invite for them to come in and have a getting-to-know-you-drink.

Now, just the same as all of you (especially "Angry Alice", as she's asked I don't use her real name less her workmates stumble across her blog) I've read all the newspaper articles about people getting fired from their jobs for stuff they've posted on their online journals.

While I've made efforts to never mention the company I work for, I have talked about work on here, and also people from work. Nothing bad, I don't think (at least, that I can remember) .... but it's nevertheless weird for people when they find out they've been written about on the Internet without their knowledge.

As I've been growing closer and closer with the guys I've worked with, I've often thought about letting them know about my blog. But I had made the resolution to not mention it at work, for two reasons 1) I like my job and I want to keep it, 2) I wanted to avoid the weirdness that comes with suddenly being privvy to not only the stuff that's been written about them, but all the nerdy / terribly pathetic crap I go on about at length here.

Well ... that issue got resolved for me in one quick hit when, in mid-conversation, Sue mentioned seeing a photo of Simone and me on my blog, and suddenly, the blog I secretly had on the Internet was not so secret anymore.



Now, I can only really blame myself for this, as I meant to say before Dad and Sue came in that it might be prudent to not mention the blog, but it slipped my mind. That said, I noted a certain sadistic glee emanating from Dad when, upon realising that the blog was news to Paul and Corey (aka Good Ol' Country Boy, aka the guy who got married and is younger than me), started giving directions on how to Google it. Thanks, Dad!

I'm taking tomorrow off to spend time with the parentals (in exchange for having worked at the CBC on Sunday). I'm sure that, in my absence, Paul and Corey will probably be stopping by here at some stage to take a look around. Now, guys, before you delve too deep, please let me take this opportunity to explain a few things;

1) Yes, Corey, I'm afraid I referred to you as "Good Ol' Country Boy". I came to this code name for a variety of reasons. Firstly, my friends are terrible with names, and are much more likely to remember a nickname than a first name (this works both ways, as a friend refers to people on her blog as "Phone Slammer", "Date Man", etc). In fact, Simone would be able to tell you about how, when I was first talking about her with my friends, she received the fairly dubious nickname of "Mail Lass". Yes, "Mail Lass". No, I'm not proud of that one.

"Good Ol' Country Boy" was used with much affection, and more than a little embarrassment, as I couldn't think of any other nicknames. To be perfectly honest, I'm a little worried you might be offended, and I sincerely hope that's not the case.

2) The Considerate Cowboy. Dumb name, I know. It's a bit of an in-joke from about six years ago.

3) The football. I just did a quick search of previous posts to see if there was anything particularly damaging, and found I was probably a bit snarky about going to the football with you guys. Not you specifically, but the act of football and the viewing thereof.

This is particularly egregious, I know, given that it's the lifeblood of Victoria. Just let me say that I truly did have a good day, and that the fact that I actually went to a match scored me points with a number of people who had written me off as a namby pamby girly boy. Sometimes, you exagerate for the purpose of comedy. Or should that be "comedy" ?

In any case, it's more a result of being smarmy about football in general, and not wanting to let on that my experience at the Telstra dome may have been a converting one, lest Dad got the last laugh after warning me I'd have no choice but to become a football fan upon moving to Melbourne. I'll beat you yet, old man!

4) I might be a bit snarky in general. But you already know that from real life.

5) I love my job, I love you guys, and at least now that the cat's out of the bag I no longer have to worry about whether or not I should tell you about the blog.

6) Speak of this to no one.

So with all of that said, I think I'll leave it there. There's a strong impulse to rush through and delete everything even remotely work-related, but I don't think that's necessary. I think you guys will know the spirit with which it was intended. And if not, you're both welcome to give me a quick punch in the guts on Monday morning. But please don't. I might cry.

And let this be a warning to you all; if your parents come into the office, make sure to give them an absolutely thorough briefing beforehand!