A cry for help: When two worlds smash together

The word is "collide" but that word sooooo ain't strong enough for this cataclysmic event. Kinda like, I would like to use the F-word right now to really cement the severity of this situation but instead, I'll just say: I'm screwed.

F-WORD!!!!!

So remember my new neighbour friend? The one I blogged about? The peppy Swedish blonde that I was dying to snag as a friend? I think I might have used the word "prey". Oh God...

Well we're on one of our, as hubby terms them, "Suicide Walks", the other night and as usual, I'm clearly showing signs of distress and as usual she looks over with concern, "Are you ok Jenn?" And my usual response, "I'll live." She's a killer. Meaning she will either a) Kill me or b) Beat me into shape. Anyway, I'm reminiscing in my mind and idiotly (new word, you're welcome) blurt out: "Yeah, I've been writing about these torture session On. My. Blog." And the instant it came out I wanted to trap those flying words and stuff them back into my pie hole.

F-Word.

"Oh, you'll have to send it to me!"
"Uh...yeah."
"What do you write about?"
(I wrote a post about you, actually a few of them. Though they clearly don't paint you in an embarassing light, they'll make me look just a tad desperate, needy and maybe stalkery? >>new word alert) "You know, about Sweden and urhmmmm...stuff."
"Oh I should check to see if you wrote about me." She jokes.
But it's not funny. "Uhhh...yeah..(insert stilted laughter)."

Meh...I didn't take it seriously. She's probably just being her sweet self. She won't remember. Worst case scenario, I can hold her off. I'll think of something.

And then last night.
Suicide walk. Chatting.
"Hey, you didn't send me your blog yet!"
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!This.is.so.not.happening.right.now." Quick, think fast Jenn:
"No, I didn't..." I said this matter-of-factly and let the last word trail. C'mon Jenn! You could've done better than that. Nope, I let it fall flat.

Now I've really gone and done it. Now she thinks I don't want to send her my blog and now she's probably wondering why and probably, definitely thinking I wrote something nasty about her.

F-Word.

Here are my options, as I see them:
a) Send her the link and pray she doesn't scroll down to read THAT POST or THIS ONE!
b) Send her THAT POST with a funny little note, "Ok, you can read my blog but better read this first". Full disclosure right? Show her my warts and hope she doesn't lock her front door and pull her blinds when she sees me walking towards her house. Will she get my humour? Remember, there is a cultural barrier here, though not that high cuz she's worked with us Americanites.
c) Delete THAT POST and THIS POST and send her the link.
d) Keep ignoring her.
e)"Damn that blogspot. Can you believe they lost my blog? I'm suing!"

Let's put this collision course into perspective. It's like having an STD right? No, I DO NOT have an STD. But say you did. You've found your soulmate. It's love at first sight. But you just KNOW you have to tell her the ugly truth about what's going on "down there". Ok, bad parallel. But maybe not.

Ok, so here's the thing. You guys know me! We have our own little private club, you guys and me. I can tell you stuff. You can tell me stuff. But it's like the sign on the clubhouse, only instead of it reading, "No Boys Allowed" it says, "No Real People Allowed", or "No People I Write About Without Them Knowing About It Allowed"

F-Word.

And now there's a girl at the door and she wants in. And this is the kind of girl all the boys would want to let in (and girls too!) but she could discover the porn collection hidden under the old filthy mattress.

I am soooo screwed. Help me (uttered in the same voice I utter "I'll live." in, which I won't).