the cheese stands alone

Audience Participation

Last night, I posted about something that was troubling me, and asked you all what you would do in my shoes. Besides get those insoles, I mean.
I deleted it about five minutes after I published it.
The reason? It suddenly occured to me that the subject of the post might read it and that didn't seem to be a very good thing at the time. I know the chance was small, but the internet isn't as large as we once thought it was. Things that were needles are now pitchforks, no matter how big the haystack.

I found out recently that my dad reads this blog as well. Now, I never intended to write anything I'd be ashamed for my family to know, or worried about getting in trouble for my words. Still, is there a hestitation in my typing, a hitch in my verbal getalong, knowing someone who actually knows me is reading?
I think there is, both for the good and for the bad.

Good because it pushes me to try harder, phrase funnier, quip wittier.
Bad because it makes me self-censor, a skill I've never quite gotten a grasp on, possibly because I was usually busy extracting my foot from my mouth.

Thus, perhaps I should make some general rules for myself:
Never betray a confidence in a blog, no matter how juicy the subject.
Never tattle unless it's to expose a Great Wrong. (It's like art, you know it when you see it.)
Never make mean fun of someone you love and/or respect if you want to keep that love and/or respect.
Never make light of someone's true pain.
Never overuse ... (what is that called, anyway, those three little dots meaning "continued"?)
Never lie about your convictions, even for a laugh. That will make it a cheap laugh, and a cheap conviction.
Never talk down to your readers.
Never lose the ability to laugh at yourself.
Never put yourself or your blog on a preaching pedestal, unless you want the world to see your knickers and giggle.
Never let a list drag on too long.