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Busted Crap. I opened my big fat freakin� mouth and told my mom about my lil� ol� blog. Now SHE WANTS TO READ IT. Well, duhhhh! Hence, my conundrum. I can write junk on here for all the world to see, friends included, but I have a hangup about my own mom perusing. I guess I feel like I�m going to get in trouble. Like passing notes at school, and having the teacher intercept and read them aloud� Crap. Why is it so much easier to write than to speak? Is it the lack of eye contact, the self-perceived anonymity, that makes one comfortable when putting forth dreams and ideas and questions and theories? Why is it that we can type what we are too embarrassed to use in conversation? An interesting psychological concept, no? The ball�s in my court on this one, though. She doesn�t have the internet and she barely knows how to use a computer. For a little while longer, I�m safe. I�ll let you all know when I�m busted big time. ******************************** I may not get to post any more over the weekend. Then, on Monday, we�re off to both my mom�s in SC and for half a week of beachy mayhem with The Family Guru and the ILs. I still have some anvil shopping to do. | |