Not the First Time At the Rodeo.

This is not, as some drag queens say, My First Time At The Rodeo. At least, not in terms of blogging. Some may be aware that I kept a blog from 2002 straight through 2007, updating it religiously – nay, some would say with the borderline devotion of an obsessive compulsive confronted with a pile of paper clips needing to be organized by color or bend angle degree measure.

However, what has changed is this: I wrote the previous blog under a different name (pseudononymously, is the three dollar word), and this time I am going to write under my Real and True Name. So, this time, I am afraid, this is going to be A Clean Room. What a shame.

Of course, I can't help but go on about how wonderful my OLD blog was – I'm like one of those passive aggressive woman on a blind date with a guy she really doesn't like that much, talking endlessly about her ex-boyfriend. But the time has come for me to forget about the Old Blog, that had a number of devoted fans, and to start the New Blog, which, alas, no one will probably ever read. Ironic, no?

The brilliant thing about the other blog was that I wrote it anonymously, so I could say precisely what I wanted to say at any time, offending anyone and everyone, without filters or accountability. After all, so many blog writers write the same sort of stuff – but under their own names. And then they become horrified when someone actually READS what they say about them and calls them on the carpet about it.

"Why did you say such a terrible thing about your mother/son/brother/boss?" they write. "What COULD you be thinking?" It's as though folks think that because it's in print, they should not be held responsible for their unconscionable revelations and tasteless ranting digressions.

Since I wrote under a fake name previously, no one ever found me out and I never got into trouble with any relative or employer. I suppose you might say that I did get into some small trouble with an A-list celebrity once, but in the end that whole episode ended up as just too much Bilbo Baggage.

Keeping a blog under one's own name can be quite a bit like wielding a boomerang – a boomerang with gigantic teeth that will bite you when it flies back into your hand. Or it could be considered akin to raising a pet crocodile that is endlessly cute when it's a little one, but which then grows up and bites your head off. "But what were you expecting?" the crocodile can only answer. "I am a crocodile. And this is what a crocodile does."

Now I must worry that what I say being actionable – or I must be concerned with some boss or co-worker googling me and digging up my words. So a bit of circumspection will be in order. No trashing co-workers and employers. Check. No indiscreet anecdotes that will be recounted at the water cooler tomorrow. Check. Instead, I shall just use this blog as a center for delightful badinage, a la Birchall, as well as being a clearing house for my various reviews and professional writings. And who knows how often I shall update? We shall see, dear hearts, we shall see.