I write lots of embedded disclaimers in my blogs because I’m hyper-aware of potentially offending someone. I know that I’m not a total expert on Argentine culture or any of the other topics I write about. I imagine the landscape of my mind to be somewhat of a swamp–tall towering trees strangled by vines and mosses establish their foundation in an unknown depth of water whose effervescent surface bubbles enigmatically. Strange squelching noises, the occasional splash, and the buzzing of countless flies zipping low across the stagnant water only supplement the murky, earthy smell that nearly suffocates you as you try to navigate the maze of boardwalks that constitute the only infrastructure in the scene. Everything I write on this blog is filtered through that swamp water and muck…so…just please recognize that before taking offense or jumping to correct me. I am more than happy to edit or clarify anything you feel might not be true. Just let me know!
The second disclaimer I’m adding has to do with my blog growing increasingly informal. I feel like my entire blog project has been maturing quite swiftly, and, in so doing, taking on a life of it’s own. It is becoming much more personal with each post. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing; I feel quite the contrary, in fact, and that it’s evolving into something more genuine and colorful. However, as I share more and more of my life with you, my audience, I begin to wonder where the line should be drawn. I am a firm believer that my generation is facing a whole new dilemma of the melding of our professional and personal lives due to social media. Coworkers adding us to Facebook, graduate schools Googling us, even potential employers reading through our Twitter feeds–this is a reality and I don’t pretend to believe that everything I post on here is not or can not be seen by the public.
I am therefore officially declaring my humanity. We all make mistakes and do stupid things, some of us more than others. I have some pretty funny stories and moments that I only feel comfortable sharing once I ceremoniously ask everyone here to recognize said humanity. Everyone chooses to lead their lives in their own way and I’m not going to pretend that I haven’t made or even continue to make my fair share of bad decisions or that my socks never get dirty (although I prefer flip flops no matter the season :P) So if you’re using the stories and opinions I write on this blog to judge what kind of a person I am, then I will say two things: 1.) I am truly flattered and 2.) My name is not Inigo Montoya, my father is still living according to his Facebook, and prepare to be totally led astray.