If you haven't figured it out yet - this is an online journal.

Clearly, that's quite a dichotomy. To write in a journal means expressing your private feelings and thoughts; to do so online means exposing yourself publicly. Perhaps that's part of the allure, or maybe it's just downright insane.

Whatever. It's something I have chosen to do.

If you're here, it's probably because you've become a member of that unique group of readers which frequents many online journals. You understand the theory, the fascination, the responsibilities inherent in such an undertaking. It goes without saying that you may not like what you read here; you might be offended, appalled, or (most likely) bored.

But I'll say it anyway:

I have no idea on most days what I'll write here (or even if I'll write here at all). Sometimes the things that end up in an entry surprise even me. I don't tell all, but sometimes I do tell too much.

I frequently curse, and whine, and bitch about my "pitiful" life. I've been know to discuss such intimate matters as my sex life, and such mundane matters as what I'm watching on TV. It's a crapshoot when you visit The Girlie Matters.

So that means one thing: if you don't like it, you are free at all times to go away. If you have some constructive feedback or friendly response you'd like to offer, I welcome it. If you just want to spew venom at me because of something I've said here, don't bother. I'm not writing in this journal to make you happy - although I'm quite delighted if you appreciate something I've said.

Now, that brings me to another category of people who might be visiting this journal: those who know me "in real life". If that describes you, I suggest you just might want to leave now.

Whether you are part of my past or my present, there's probably something here that would make one or both of us uncomfortable. Maybe you've done something that made me temporarily angry, and I vented here, and now I'm over it - but you read it two months later and get your feelings hurt and...well, you can see where that might lead.

Or you might come across something that falls into the category of too much information - and now you look at me funny every time we talk.

I don't need that discomfort. So you have choices as well: go away; or never, ever mention to me what you've read here. Guess which option I'd prefer you to take?

But if you decide to stay, you do so at your own peril - and possibly at the peril of whatever relationship we have outside of this journal. So think long and hard about why you're here at all - and don't make the mistake of thinking I want to know that you're reading my words.

I don't. Odd as it seems, it's much easier to be open with only strangers listening in. Maybe that's because I don't really care what strangers think, and not caring is a freedom of its own sort.

So that's it: the disclaimer. Is everybody clear?