Consider yourself warned...

The problem with writing a blog, is that people read it. Not many, but some.

I pretty much know all of you pretty well, and trust that your judgments of me and my shenanigans will at best be light-hearted and humourous and at worst, kept to yourself.

Still, I’d be remiss to overlook that a big chunk of my audience includes people like my father, and my grandmother, and her sisters. (My mother and aunts read too, but I think I’ve met my limit on shocking them and now they mostly just roll their eyes at me and laugh).

That said, I am a single woman. And single women have precarious personal lives that they feel the urge to share, commiserate about and otherwise seek solace from in the laughter and pity (equal parts is ok, so don't feel bad) that exude from those around them as they bumble through their journey through singledom.

I am also a woman with a blog, which already proves that I am of strong enough conviction that I am interesting and read-worthy, and therefore why wouldn’t you want to bumble through some of my Choose [My] Own Adventures with me?

But I come back to the issue of audience.

My conclusion is this: I’m going to write what I want. You can read if you want. You can read into any extra bits that you choose. I am neither responsible for, nor bothered by, any postings that make anyone (Dad) choke on their coffee. Grandma, you may double up at prayer time if you need to.

Fair enough?

When you start rolling your eyes and just laughing, then you've found your Heather place.

Now here we go....

PS. Keep in mind that I’m 30, and when my mom was 30, I was 5. So she basically must have gone through all her singleton shenanigans in her EARLY 20s. I’ve at least held off til now (well, recently) (yes, recently is a relative term). Now judge THAT.

PPS. Yes, I did just throw my own mother (figuratively) under a bus to suit my own purpose. Sorry mom, love you.