Forbidden Topics

I have been exchanging email with a reader, and this person is not even a friend or family member who is obligated, by either constant harassment or threat of familial excommunication, to actually read what I write. I have decided to bestow upon such readers the title of FFFans, and she shall forevermore be known within my realm as FFFan1.

FFFan1 is contemplating launching her own blog, and is giving some thought to what might or might not be suitable blog material. She is considering friends, family, co-workers, and how various topics might limit the groups of people she could safely encourage to read what she writes. Obviously, if she shares her blog with co-workers, she has effectively muzzled her ability to poke fun at or bitch about them or any aspect of her job. Ditto for the family. Scary, pointy-topped fence on which to teeter.

Since the dogs have been behaving themselves, despite my rising suspicion and paranoia about what they are undoubtedly plotting, I’ve had time to consider what is appropriate for me to include in my blog. Let it be said, I have a very high “too much information” threshold. Obviously. But that, as are most things, is mostly about how it pertains to me. When it comes to other people in my life and topics that I simply do not want to bring up for fear of starting a blog-war, I have to use a bit more restraint. (Yeah, and wish me luck with that, too!)

POLITICS: I am a raging liberal. I am strongly anti-Republican, occasionally anti-Democrat, and mildly anti-all-politicians on general principle, though I recognize them as a regrettably necessary evil. I don’t spend a lot of time information-gathering, analyzing and debating politics, primarily because I don’t find it all that interesting. They all lie; it’s just a matter of degree. In the end, all you can do is choose the candidate whose lies best serve your personal agenda. I tend to wait until positions have been stated, mud has been slung, and the dust has settled. Then I see who is left standing, and decide whether or not I agree with their decisions. I never fail to vote, but refuse to be drawn into a campaign two years before the actual date of the election. If people are interested in all the political machinations, there are plenty of other sites out there to read and engage in the debate.

RELIGION: Three words: Way. Too. Dangerous. My spiritual views are so far outside the mainstream that saying anything much beyond the fact that I consider myself a Pagan spirit is asking for trouble. Stating too strong a religious belief is just inviting the devout (of any faith) to try to convert, chastise, indoctrinate, subjugate, prayer-slam, or browbeat me into embracing a particular view. Three more words: Ain’t. Gonna. Happen. I find religion fascinating, but from a sociological, historical and intellectual standpoint. I consider myself spiritual but not religious, and I keep the particulars of that to myself. Believe whatever you want, but please leave me out of it. I am so not interested in having anyone tell me just how surely and expeditiously I am about to be transported directly to their religion’s version of Hell, do not pass Go, do not collect Eternal Salvation. I am equally disinterested in the wide variety of incomprehensible horrors to which they are certain I will be subjected. In my opinion, hell may very well be one endless tent revival. Or possibly being forced to spend eternity working in a daycare. (OK, now I’ve scared myself.)

On a related note, I also have serious issues with people who insist on making politics and religion synonymous. Why do so many people justify a particular law by making their god part of the argument? Frankly, anyone who claims to know what any god wants scares the living shit out of me, way more than some concept of a theoretical hell. Why can’t they just pass laws based on what is right, instead of dragging one deity or another into it? (Uh-oh. May have overstepped self’s own previously stated boundary. Shutting up now.)

MY WORKPLACE: I’ve been keeping references to Dr. Vet-Friends One and Two to a minimum, as well as those regarding other staff members. If it doesn’t directly apply to me and whichever story I’m attempting to tell, I’m not about to involve them. Sometimes this is pretty difficult, especially in light of yesterday’s employee evaluations and all the resulting anxiety, paranoia and borderline nervous breakdowns. With the exception of the doctors and our lead receptionist, the rest of the staff consists of females in their early 20s. That, on its own, should be enough to keep a blog rolling for decades, but I am not about to touch it. In fact, one of the strong points of my own personal evaluation was my refusal to get involved in any way with gossip, cliques, or drama. I’d say it’s because I’m just too old for that shit, but the fact is that I’ve always been like this. I consider myself Switzerland, steadfastly neutral, and intend to remain that way. Luckily, this is not difficult, because I am absolutely, totally, 100% sincerely not interested in any of it. I find our team members interesting, each in her own way, and I (thanks to my nearly complete lack of discretion) don’t mind sharing details of my own life. But I possess a basic detachment that enables me to mediate conflicts effectively, because I truly don’t care about taking sides or picking favorites. I just want everybody to get the hell along already, because we have a job to do.

IN-LAWS AND SIBLINGS: While I doubt any of my husband’s family will ever be among my blog-readers, that’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Tom is all squidgy about the possibility of any of them ever accidentally happening on to my blog and discovering details about our life that we’ve made a point not to discuss with them (which is pretty much everything). If I censor myself that much, there isn’t anything left to write about. But on the remote chance that they ever do read this, I must avoid the temptation to comment on any of the “unique qualities” (or “hilarious idiosyncrasies”) that exist in the family into which I married. I may often be candid, but I’m not stupid.

In the sibling department, I have two sisters. One is 17 years older than I am, and one is four years younger. Both are complex, successful, wonderful women, and both have lives that bear little resemblance to mine. By virtue of our being sisters, they have their own eccentricities that are just different enough from my own that the temptation to poke them with a stick from time to time is almost overwhelming. Then I remember that they know just as much stuff about me as I do about them. Delete, delete, delete!

BRITNEY SPEARS, PARIS HILTON, JESSICA SIMPSON, ETC.: Because my brain is not comprised of half-set Jell-O and random fruit chunks.

MY SON: You’d think that since I am at least 50% responsible for his existence, and maybe more than that since I actually carried him, birthed him, and have carried the resulting (and highly unattractive) stretch marks for 24 years, every aspect of his life would be fair game. Apparently, this is not so. Other than the occasional comment when something directly pertains to the subject at hand, I am forced, under threat of possible matricide, to ignore any and all amusing personality traits and embarrassing childhood stories. It’s bad enough that I have a blog, in his opinion, and he doesn’t even want to think about the MySpace page. I believe he used the word “mortified.” If he sees anything unacceptable on any of my pages, I’m in serious trouble. Since he is a biologist, I’m pretty sure he could find a way to rid himself of this source of embarrassment in a completely undetectable way. Hence, my uncharacteristic caution. His girlfriend has a “too much information” threshold nearly as high as my own, and therefore I could probably mention her a little bit, and she wouldn’t mind as long as The Boy didn’t get dragged into it by association. But I really, really like her, and I suspect that annoying her too early in their developing relationship might have undesirable effects, so I will endeavor to keep the filter between my brain and my keyboard working at maximum efficiency.

CATS: And that’s all I’m going to say.

MY HUSBAND: OK, this should go in the “Limited Immunity” category, if I had one. I shall try never to piss him off or embarrass him (too much). Unless it is absolutely necessary. I’m sure he’s aware the definition of “absolutely necessary” is wholly my own and may vary slightly from day to day, depending on my mood, whether or not I am currently annoyed with him in any way, how desperate I am for material, and possibly the ambient air temperature. I have the utmost respect for him, but if he didn’t fully comprehend the risks of being married to me when we said “I do,” you’d certainly think he’d have figured it out in the past quarter century. I’ve decided that the fact that he’s still here indicates a tacit acceptance of his fate.

GRAPHIC SEX DETAILS: Funny how the topic above led me to this one. That’s all I’m saying. I do, in fact, have a sex life, and that is already more than my son wishes to know. (And, in all fairness, I don't really want to know about his, either.) While I could wax poetic, and possibly pornographic, on the subject, for extensive periods of time (especially since I am no longer drinking and can remember all the details), I won’t. (My son can thank me later. Preferably with cash.)

ICKY MEDICAL DETAILS: I am aware that you have been exposed to an in-depth description of my whole head injury experience, but I really don’t consider that graphic. I feel obligated to inform you, though, that it takes a whole lot of nasty for me to qualify something as "icky.” I’ve had dogs all my life, and the stuff that comes out of them, from one end or the other, has forced me to develop a high degree of ick-immunity. Also, I’ve worked in the veterinary business for ten years. While I don’t have a hands-on job description, I still see plenty. I actually enjoy most of it. Everyone knows that if there’s an especially juicy abscess to be drained, or (oh, joy!) a cuterebra, I am to be summoned immediately. For those who don’t know what a cuterebra is, think of a plump, yellowish, wiggly, slug-like insect larvae peeking its blobby little head out of the breathing hole in its self-created cyst on some unfortunate animal. “Alien,” but on a much smaller scale. OK, sorry, that was borderline gross. I will promise to try to stay away from vivid descriptions of deformities, infections, excretions of all sorts, and anything that emerges from human or animal digestive tracts from either end. Fair enough? Just be warned that occasionally I may still be unable to resist telling you all about something that is just way too interesting to pass up, so read at your own risk.

ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS: Today is Day 14 Alcohol-Free. Maybe I should just be keeping this to myself, though. As soon as you tell people that you’re on the wagon, anyone who has ever been to AA or knows someone who has, feels compelled to point you in the direction of the nearest meeting. I object to AA for many of the same general reasons I discussed under “religion.” (If that comment made anyone want to provoke me into a debate on the subject, forget it. I’m not even getting into that. Suffice it to say that I have my reasons.) I am thrilled right down to my toenails that AA has helped so many people. But. It. Is. Not. For. Me. For those of you who sincerely care about my recovery and wellbeing, I am grateful. If I find I need additional help or support, I will get it. It just won’t be from AA.

THE WAR: I have simple, firm opinions on this subject. If you’ve noted any and all previous references to Republicans, you can guess what they are.

NATURAL DISASTERS: Because they clearly are not funny. Except maybe as they relate to California. I mean seriously! Floods, earthquakes, fires, mudslides, a Republican governor, and Hollywood. People obviously choose to live there for some reason, but thus far it escapes me what that could possibly be. (And no, that is not an invitation for you to tell me. It has no significance if I can't figure it out for myself. But don't hold your breath.)

Wow, this is a really long blog. I guess not finding time to write yesterday caused some sort of literary logjam in my brain, which has clearly let loose, resulting in this verbal torrent. Sorry if I’ve been the cause of anyone suffering eyestrain.

Even excluding all these topics, I am confident that I will continue to find plenty of subject matter for the blog. The world is just that ridiculous a place, my mental make-up is just that off-kilter, and I still believe my dogs are planning some sort of stunt that will break new comedic ground.

And I’ll feel compelled to tell you all about it.