Hell happy bloggers I have reached a strange milestone in my life.
Previously I have been a suit myself kindofa gal. If I wanted to do something then hells bells, I'd do it. Touching ginger people *inappropriately*, dancing like a loon, chatting to anyone who wandered within the old radar. You know, generally living. (Russ has been witness to a lot of these, sorry russ.)
Also during this time I used to have a real "thats your fucking problem if you don't like it" attitude. If I was going out with someone and I was chatting to another guy then fuck them if they didn't like it, hell, I'd chat to anyone I damn well pleased. Who were they to tell me what to do? Etc etc. You catch the idea.
Well recently I've discovered that this really no longer stands. I can't keep the 'fuck you' attitude because you start to hurt people.
This leads me into a strange place because I start to wonder if previously I just didn't care who I hurt. You might have guessed by now that I really hurt someone with my last post. My "I'll write what I damn well choose" theme has reared up and almost cost me a relationship. Seems I can't stroke Ginger people anymore because I actually care about who I'm hurting at the other end of it.
The britches chaffing thing about it was that they had to come here and read about it. Then spend an entire evening with that knowledge. I wouldn't wish that on them.
Essentially if you blog, or better yet, have someone you care about. THINK. I don't mean don't blog it, just don't do it. Maybe you all know this and I'm just catching up.
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