Only Partly Uncensored

Disclaimer v.3

In Uncategorized on October 26, 2014 at 1:04 pm

I’ve learned the hard way that nothing, not even an anonymous online blog, is really safe in this day and age of socially-acceptable internet stalking.

That being said, if nothing is safe, then certainly nothing is sacred. So I needed a disclaimer, since I’m republishing a lot of my old posts, painfully slowly, after scanning each for content, and inserting the text [edited for inappropriate exmarital referential content] where necessary. Here it is:

To begin, if you are not over the age of majority in your current location, you have no business being on this page without parental consent. And I mean real, informed consent. Not, “Hey, Mom, can I check out this femme blog?” I mean, “Hey, Mom, I want to read this chick’s blog but she says you should read it first.” Or, if not Mom, then whomever is legally responsible for you until your current location’s laws says you can decide stuff like this for yourself. I mean it. If you click on any page beyond this first one, you’re certifying that you are legally an adult and therefore someone in charge has randomly decided you’re mature enough for adult content.

Credit (because someone else had to come up with this kind of boilerplate):

This (everything beginning with the word “Credit” in the line immediately above) document was (mostly) created using a Contractology template available at All text in red was either edited, or inserted wholesale, by Jolie because she didn’t want to only include what was originally provided, or because she didn’t like the originally provided formatting. She’s a pain-in-the-ass-control-freak like that.

No Warranties (because I never promised you a damn thing anyway, and am an expert on precisely nothing, not even my own stuff):

This blog/website is provided “as is” without any representations or warranties, express or implied. Joliesse, aka her real-life name which has not ever been published here, aka Jolie, and hereafter Jolie, makes no representations or warranties in relation to this website or the information and materials provided on this website.

Without prejudice to the generality of the foregoing paragraph, Jolie does not warrant that:

  • this website will be constantly available, or available at all or in part; or
  • the information on this website is complete, true, accurate, or non-misleading.

Nothing on this website constitutes, or is meant to constitute, advice of any kind. [If you require advice in relation to any [legal, financial, or medical] matter, you should consult an appropriate professional. I am neither appropriate nor a professional. Consider yourself warned.]

Limitations of Liability (because it can’t all be my fault, all the time, contrary to popular opinion):

Jolie will not be liable to you (whether under the law of contract, the law of torts, or otherwise) in relation to the contents of, or use of, or otherwise in connection with, this website:

  • for any direct loss;
  • for any indirect, special, or consequential loss;
  • for any business losses, loss of revenue, income, profits, or anticipated savings, loss of contracts or business relationships, loss of reputation or goodwill, or loss or corruption of information or data.

These limitations of liability apply even if Jolie has been expressly advised of the potential loss. Proceed at your own risk, in other words.

Exceptions (because the only absolutes in life are death, taxes, change, and atrocious misquoting for reasons of personal writing style):

Nothing in this website/blog disclaimer will exclude or limit any warranty implied by law that it would be unlawful to exclude or limit; and nothing in this website disclaimer will exclude or limit Jolie’s liability in respect of any:

  • death or personal injury caused by Jolie’s negligence;
  • fraud or fradulent misrepresentation on the part of Jolie; or
  • matter which it would be illegal or unlawful for Jolie to exclude or limit, or to attempt or purport to exclude or limit, its liability.

Reasonableness (because you have a choice, and clicking through to the rest of the blog is a choice, whether you want it to be all my fault or not):

By using this blog/website, you agree that the exclusions and limitations of liability set out in this website disclaimer are reasonable.

If you do not think they are reasonable, you must not use this website/blog. In other words, proceed at your own risk.

Other Parties (because no one else could possibly be responsible for me; I’m a grownup):

You accept that, as a limited liability entity, Jolie has an interest in limiting the personal liability of its officers and employees. You agree that you will not bring any claim personally against Jolie’s officers and employees in respect of any losses you suffer in connection with the blog/website.

Without prejudice to the foregoing paragraph, you agree that the limitations of warranties and liability set out in this website disclaimer will protect Jolie’s officers, employees, agents, subsidiaries, successors, assigns, and sub-contractors as well as Jolie. Meaning it’s not at all Rhett or Sharkman’s fault that I’ve somehow pissed you off, because the likelihood of me having officers or any of the other stuff except for “successors and assigns” is right up there with me winning the lottery.

Unenforceable Provisions (because no one, not even the legal geniuses that come up with this kind of stuff, is perfect):

If any provision of this website disclaimer is, or is found to be, unenforceable under applicable law, that will not affect the enforceability of the other provisions of this website disclaimer. Spellcheck and I have doubts as to whether or not “enforceability” is actually a word, but that doesn’t mean that if one part of the above doesn’t work, the rest of it won’t. So concludes the official, aforementioned disclaimer.

Questions or concerns may be directed through the following form. I may or may not answer in a timely fashion, if at all, and that’s no one’s fault except mine, either.



In Mouthy Broad on October 28, 2014 at 10:03 am

It’s strange to go back through my old posts (as I’m reading and editing and password-protecting and unlocking) and see how smart-mouthed and sassy and out-there I used to be. Like reading the innermost personal thoughts of an almost-stranger. That girl you went to school with in fourth grade, and then suddenly bumped into, years later and miles away, in a completely different city. You remember a few details about her, like the way she usually dressed, or a particular dorky laugh that she had. Talking to her gives you back a few more memories. And then, the brief exchange layers new memories on to those old ones, but you can’t quite grasp the whole picture of who she is versus who she was.

Maybe it’s getting older. Solidifying into my own quirks. Maybe age is an exponential curve: you slough off the unnecessary habits and bits and pieces of your youth, and the resulting freed-up resources get channeled more deeply into the remaining bits of who you are.

In case you couldn’t tell, this is a multiple-cups-of-coffee kind of morning. I’m hazy; it was a very late night. Speaking of getting older, I’ve ratcheted back my coffee consumption (the one habit I truly believed I’d never want/need to break) to just two cups, most mornings. From a daily whole pot habit, this is a big thing. I’ve even gone entirely without coffee some mornings, drinking nothing but Irish Breakfast tea. Although it’s a toss-up as to which is really a bigger kick, the blackest of black teas or black coffee!

When I first started blogging, I was semi-muzzled about pieces of my life. WB, the exH: they were cryptic notes and character references in a blur of words and attitude. That was my choice; I was trying to tell my stories in a vacuum. I’ve learned, since, that’s pretty impossible to do. Context, especially in writing, is everything. These days, there’s practically nothing to say about WB, so that recurring subject has gone to whatever layer of the ether old stories retire. Rhett’s still around; he doesn’t blog anymore, being much too busy keeping our lives together in some kind of forward trajectory. Every so often, something will happen that makes him laugh and say, “It’s too bad I don’t blog anymore!” Those moments always give me a little nostalgic stab in the side. I could write them, I guess, but our voices are so different that I don’t think I could do them justice. I’m not allowed to write about the exH anymore. That’s okay, too. It’s like I’ve been forced to move on, beyond those daily conflicts of a post-divorce life. Maybe I wasn’t ready, maybe it wasn’t fair, but you know, it is what it is. Sometimes you take these abrupt left turns in life. And then the last of the old cast of characters, the ex-best-friend, the Florida spin-off. All gone, all part of another life now.

Sometimes it seems like my early adulthood was defined not so much by my own choices, but by the conflicts, trials, and tribulations between me and these other players. Like I was somehow cast as a supporting actress in my own screenplay. What an odd feeling, being an almost-spectator in one’s own life.

Writing, these past few mornings, with my coffee and my NPR and my dog sleeping next to/under my feet, has been a little like it was when I first moved back home. Familiar and completely different and a little strobe-effect-ish.

Online society is such a fast-forward, Darwinian process. The groups I belonged to, the people I associated with, the writers I checked out daily, so many of them are gone by the wayside. A lot of them seemed to just outgrow their pages. We aren’t Gen Y or millenials, who can’t imagine moving through a world without an online persona. Then, too, I’ve come to grips with a lot of the issues that kept me digging and looking for context of my own when I first started. I came to peace with my own identity in these pages. I learned more about myself through the lens of others, here, than I ever expected to. (Which reminds me, I need to validate and update allofthe bookmarks.)

This blog, now, is like the house I grew up in. It’s oddly bigger than I remembered, but there are hidden nooks and crannies that I don’t remember seeing or using as a kid. Hallways that connect differently than what I thought. Windows that are bigger, doorways that aren’t.

What a crazy world, where four years is an almost complete turnover of people and places and things.

It leaves me wondering what I possibly have left to write about, even as I’m drawn to the keyboard again today.

Maybe writing has always been my peephole out of the shell I inhabit so comfortably in my daily life. Maybe I was so connected to the world around me before because I wanted something to write about. And nothing happens in a vacuum.

Maybe I really just didn’t get enough sleep last night, and the coffee isn’t cutting through the haze yet. Who knows?


In Mouthy Broad, Surviving on October 27, 2014 at 11:45 am

If you could do your whole life over again, what color parachute would you pick?

This is my question lately. Since I don’t know if my job is actually going to be protected (a whole FMLA administration mess at work, plus not necessarily reliable administrators), I’m trying to decide what to do with myself. I’ve applied for about a zillion jobs locally, but I’m having trouble with the pay scales. (They think I’m too expensive; I think they’re insane. And then I remember that the majority of their talent pool is barely high*school educated.)

If I could freelance, editing or writing or whatever, I would, but I have zero network or contacts for the kind of work I’m qualified for (or can stand doing without running a red pen through my eardrum).

I’ve spent my entire morning creating a freelancing profile, applying for about a dozen more jobs, and generally just trying to figure out what comes next. Which makes a nice change from just whining that I don’t want to go back to my actual, current job.

No closer to an actual answer, but at least I’m DOING something.

…Several hours later…

I’ve updated my Monster profile, taken a career aptitude test, and a personality test (INTJ – who knew?) and still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up!

The funniest recommendation so far? HUMAN RESOURCES!!!

Yuck, I say. This is one of those jobs like sales, for me. I’m really good at it, and really loathe it. I dislike being the office mom, the universal bartender. I don’t want to know all these inappropriate personal details about the people I work with. Plus this field is where the General Office of Repetitive Redundancies was invented.

Maybe HR from a MUCH bigger-picture perspective, like developing training or writing policies, but the actual, line-work, implementation, touchy-feely stuff? Ick!

Unfortunately, I don’t live in a big-picture kind of place.

Let’s see what else I can scrounge up. It can only go up from here, right?




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