I plead the fifth. Or maybe it is the sixth.

In deference to those I love, or to protect the innocent – which is certainly not the same thing at times, I have transferred to this new blog in which the content is more appropriate for general audiences.  Well, depending on how open minded “general” actually is.  I began blogging a few years ago when my life was drastically changing as an outlet for the vast amount of free flowing content in my head that must be put in the form of words I can read.  It is that writer in me that cannot be restrained and writing allows me to make sense of things.  Or attempt to anyway.

That blog evolved to a bitch session, a pity party, a WTF examination of people and a chronicle of my life experiences (which varied from boring to the point of watching cars rust to so exciting that at times I can’t believe I lived those moments).  Once I made a decision to focus on my love of the rhetoric as a career path, and people actually inquired with some frequency to read what I write, it was obvious that I needed to made a few ah..edits.  Before you ask, the old site has gone to yonder, and this is the replacement.

Alas, I am still unabashedly red, but with a tiny filter in place.  I am still me, I am still a mommy, I am still a writer.  The things that define me are in place.  The single most important thing in my life is my girls.  But this blog isn’t for them or about them, nor will they read it.  This is the one and only place I can separate myself from what is sacred and special to me.  You won’t see many, if any, references to them on here.  Mostly because I want to shelter and protect them from the world, but also because I use this as my one single place of solace without many boundaries.  I suppose its my new version of let loose, since you certainly won’t find me falling off a bar stool or dancing on tables (one of the types of so called fun I gladly substituted for the pleasure of being a mommy), but not as loose as my last blog.

I am a sharing kind of girl, so here I am. Just don’t blame me if you don’t like what you read.  After all, I am a woman, and we do bleed for days each month and live to tell about it.  I am going to drink my red wine now and chuckle to myself.

I might need a drink.

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