Monday, November 21, 2011

Privacy Concerns

I'm admittedly trying to step out of my comfort zone. Therefore, I'm using my real name here, relating real stories, and giving real opinions. This is a big change from my antidepressant-induced filtered content (read: just stuff I said verbally and on Facebook) of the past several years.

My theory is this: if you know what's going on with me, and I tell you firsthand, nobody can blackmail me. LOL No, I don't consider myself important enough (or rich enough!) to blackmail by any means. But really. I'm not going to pull a Jeremy Clarkson and post all my information online. But I don't deny that if anyone wanted to, they could probably glean enough information about me from the interwebs to srsly hurt me.

Well, that's life. Screw it. I have very little left. I don't know what kind of human being would try to put me into the gutter. That's a reflection on them, not on my "carelessness" with personal information. Anyway, I'm middle-aged and, at best, I have 50 years to go. Oh wait, that's a helluva long time!

Then again, carpe diem. I'm tired of living in obscurity and poverty. If my family (and...ahem...certain other entities--ok, I guess I'm not being completely open) wouldn't be outraged, I'd show you my tits! But don't mistake this for awfully deviant behavior. I lived in Europe for a while, and boobs are no big deal. I mean, really. How is it fair that guys get to go without shirts/tops at the beach and we don't? Do you wear a bra 24x7 at home? If so, heaven help you (so to speak).

So! All that being said, I may or may not write about bananas. But I am going upstairs for a while to try to take a better self-portrait for my LinkedIn profile. I need f***ing job, already.


© 2011 Deana Wallace

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