tmi

I once had a very public web site and there was no such thing as too much information.

I didn't care if the ladies from my mom's seven bridge clubs wouldn't look her in the eye. I didn't care that my friends were so thinly veiled they may as well have been waiting for the bus wearing Ralph Lauren hand towels. I didn't care what any of my liaisons thought. I was ladylike. I never talked about tender, intimate acts of love unless the guy's dick was really huge or something.

This was all well and good (you know, for me), except that lately I've been looking for a job. Last week a potential employer said: Congratulations. You won the award for most results when I Googled a candidate. 1,800 web pages talk about you.

So I decided that too much information might not always be a good thing.

Now that I'm no longer writing under my nom de reality, I can say things like "Last night I had a dream that I was in a produce aisle and a very young guy bought me a chocolate cigarette that grew into a big fat engorged chocolate cigar as I was eating it" and no one will think I'm weird.