Disney Fights Dirty

This was really just an eye-catching title to make you read this entry. I am not, in fact, going to tell you the specifics about why and how Disney plays dirty. But take my word for it, they do. If you feel like hearing the story (and it is a good one) ask me to tell it to you one day, and we shall sit around a fire and drink hot cocoa while I shock you with knowledge I dare not impart in writing.
This may seem a bit drastic and very cryptic to you, but I have no desire to be tailed by anyone hired by Disney just because of a blog entry. Okay, this probably wouldn't happen. But that is how good this story is.
Today I realized that I am a blogger. This frightens me in the same way that someone knowing my name without me ever having met them before frightens me. Anyone can read my blog. I set the preferences that way. But I am not certain about why anyone would want to read it. While I think that I sometimes have interesting things to share, I feel like they could really only be interesting to people who know me pretty well.
I now see why Emma aggravatingly only mentions people by their first initial. I don't think I will adopt this because then I will refer to A or E and no one will know which A or which E. Or I will say I spent another evening at the Coral tonight with J, J, G, S, L, M, and K. This bothers me. But the whole reason I am on this tangent is because J asked me tonight if I had a blog, and no wonder my name is familiar. I was so embarrassed on the inside and to this moment (day doesn't really work in this case), I can't really say why. Perhaps J is reading this. . . Perhaps from now on I will be more careful about what and about whom I write. . . eh, no, that isn't really my style. I will just have to get used to the fact that relative strangers may have a better insight in the workings of Gemma than I would initially expect or prefer.
This whole entry has basically been about me anxiously looking over my shoulder. I think that means it is time for bed.