Wow... the power of the blog. I already have some friends sending me harrassing emails demanding life details be posted here. This is something I've been thinking about: Just how honest should I be in these journals? My instinct is to tell it all, though I worry about hurt feelings. Hmmm... maybe I'll just hope that those who might feel uncomfortable with my dishing won't end up here and read about themselves. Besides, I won't give names. I'll stick to initials.

I don't have long today because I have to get ready for work in... er... precisely 8 minutes. Oh and by the way, I have ANOTHER bartending gig lined up. I was called yesterday by my town's nicest restaurant -- The Airport Inn -- and now they want me to start working tonight. Now, I don't think the clientele will be quite as colorful as the bar/motel but the tips will certainly be better. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do...

So, first. Before China, I had a boyfriend. A French Canadian boyfriend. (not that that's a terribly pertinent detail, but well... as my friends will tell you, I seem to have a "thang" for men from other places) Now, this relationship was just a tad rocky. Okay, it was a lot rocky. When G the FC was being sweet, he was the sweetest guy you could ever meet -- kind, generous, and fun-loving. But he has a temper and it can get ugly.

Now, before I left, I told him if he couldn't get ahold of this nasty temper, I didn't think we could be together. We also discussed that this time apart could either make us or break us.

As it turned out, it broke us. Partly, because I met someone else. Partly, because I got some distance and realized the nasty temper wasn't going anywhere. G the FC is 39 after all. While I believe people can change, there is that thing about old dogs and I realized G the FC probably wasn't going to be learning any new tricks.

So, I broke up with him the day I got back from China. He knew it was coming and he reacted quite well. But then he had some time to think and the temper surfaced. Forty miles outside of Norfolk, VA (my former home) he let me have it. He screamed and yelled and called me all kinds of unspeakable names. He threatened to throw my things out onto the street.

After spending a night on my friend's couch, I hightailed it for home. And then, my mother got an email from G the FC saying "It was nice to meet you and (my dad), but I'm afraid we won't be seeing each other again. I hope Angela tells you the truth about what happened in China. She is abusive and I cannot take it anymore."

Uh huh. yeah. right.

Whoops... gotta go get pretty for work.

Next time: Meeting a Dutchman in Shanghai