Disclaimer v.3

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 http://www.freenetlaw.com. 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.

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Δ

 

Hellfire

 

You don’t know hell until you’ve seen your kid walk through the flames without you.

You just don’t. There is nothing on earth that can prepare a parent for some things. Things that let you know: they are on the downward slide, and the smell of sulfur is creeping up, coming for your baby.

And you never know. You never see it coming.

You’ll spend a lot of time wondering. Wondering if you did know. Wondering if you (or somebody else) did see it coming. Wondering what you could have done differently/better/more of/less of. You just will. There are a lot of people out there who will tell you that yeah, you did see it coming. That yeah, you could have done a lot differently, done a lot better.

They’re right, but that doesn’t matter because they’re wrong.

They’re horrible for having an opinion, much less for expressing that opinion out loud. To you. Let’s be clear about that. Not one single person on this earth, regardless of their experience, their status as a parent, their age, their gender, their relationship to your child, is remotely qualified to have an opinion about how you handle it when your kid is dangling just out of reach of the thorns and the harpies. Go ahead, be angry about it. They don’t know you. They don’t know your kid. They don’t know where you’ve been separately or together. They don’t know one damn thing about how you feel. And you really, really, should not be put in a position to have to tell them any of that. They should just know.

Now, take a breath.

Because they mean well. It may be coming from a place of oh-my-god-so-none-of-their-fucking-business but 98.6% of the time, they mean well. They mean to be supportive, or understanding, or helpful, or even just kind. Does that make it suck less? No. Does that make it less uncomfortable? Nuh-uh. Does that make it any of their business? Nope. It is what it is, though. And they’ll have an opinion. And they’ll share it with you. They just will.

Fix your eyes on the important things. Worry about your kid; let the rest of it roll.

440

There’s some moments in your life that you only recognize as having been a turning point once they’ve past. You can look back and say, hey, that was it. That was the moment everything changed. Then, there’s some moments that you just know. You can see it, that you’re redefining your entire life with every step forward. 

Those moments, the ones you know about and are aware of? They’re terrifying. It’s like every breath is a decision: the old way or the new? Maybe they’re not terrifying to everyone, but they’re terrifying to me. I’m not great with the unknown. And new definitely equals unknown. 

But, see, I’m getting too old to be afraid. I like that part. I like outgrowing my old fears and hang ups and baggage. It’s nice to wake up feeling lighter, freer, on the good days. (On the bad days, I think I’m crazy and that I’ll never be free, but the bad days are fewer and further between, too.)

Maybe I’ll grow up to be one of those skydiving grannies who set about their bucket lists with a vengeance. 

These past couple of months have been a crucible of tension, stress, and pain. My hope for my little family is that the forging is completed. That we move forward stronger, more at peace, from here. That’s my hope, but my comfort is that we move forward together.