What I didn’t say in my first post… My goal with this, is to be an example of high comms.  Hopefully educate others (and myself!) through that example and my experiences. That said, no matter how I do with those first two, my commitment is to always, regardless, engage in the discussion.  And be real. I give you my word that authenticity is all you’ll ever get here. Done and f*cking dusted. Case in point, when I’m inspired or energized, I always seem to swear more.  A lot more.  And because I’m totally inspired and energized about this blog, I find obscenities wanting to sneak in all over.  What the H-E-double-hockey-sticks, right?  I don’t want the whole offensive-sailor bit to be my schtick or anything, I dream of ending up on Oprah’s network, and the NY Times Bestseller list with the perfect literary balance of intensity and insight.  Maybe HBO and Cosmopolitan Magazine would be more appropriate, non-network, and I could drop f-bombs to my inspired-yet-uncouth heart’s content. Sometimes it just feels like the best way to convey the intensity I feel.  Then other times it’s just most fun to be the hard core, hilarious, hot blond chick in charge of a bunch of dudes. That happens a lot in skydiving, hehe.. it’s fun.  Anyway, you know what I’m saying, it’s just one those things that comes out in certain environments, or with certain friends, or when we’re feeling a certain way. I mean, if I’m hangin’ with my Gram, nothing, zip, nada comes out of my mouth like that, and I don’t even have to try.  And I want my Gram to read this….. so what do I do? Balance isn’t always the answer, but in this case, I definitely think it is.  Most of the time I’m gonna use the thesaurus to find you all a nugget of literary goodness, delicious and tasty to your eyeballs and brain waves.  And most of the time when talking to new and old pals or business associates, I’m gonna keep it clean.  Swear words are like corn dogs at the ball game… in moderation, heaven to the taste buds, but in excess clog our arteries and strand us alone in an outhouse. Balance to this comes in the form of pre-couch Tom Cruise… sometimes… you just gotta say, “what the f*ck.”  Risky business, I tell ya.  My Gram can dig it. (And I bet money she’s laughing right now.  Love you, Gram!)
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I give you my word that authenticity is all you’ll ever get here. Done and f*cking dusted.