Molly (or Mommy) just viewed my blog twice more. That’s the first time that I know of that they’ve viewed me in the middle of the night. I mentioned sometimes allowing for anonymous comments when I wasn’t asleep or away from the PC for a while. I wonder if they were hoping, by coming in at an odd time, to squeeze in a comment.

Maybe I should allow for anonymous comments again. Molly’s a pretty stupid person. Maybe she’ll leave comments and that way if she tries to hit me with any legal trouble I’ll have something that’ll make her look even worse and then the courts could see who the real perp is. I need to unblock her from tracking, too. Excluding her IP shows me how many times she was there, but not when she was there. Then again, that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I get visits from her on the days she leaves comments, right? IDK, maybe I should open the doors for her and let her incriminate herself.

I wasn’t going to do another entry today, but I feel compelled to get some anxieties off my chest. Especially in case anything ever happens to me. Well, I guess I’ll cut to the chase and just spell it right out. Even when there’s no contact – absolutely no words received at all – I still feel like I have a virtual peeping tom shadowing me and it’s scaring me. Plain and simple, it’s scaring me. It used to annoy me and frustrate me and it still does, but now it’s getting me downright anxious and uncomfortable. The stress is starting to affect my sleep and mess with my stomach. Just the mere fact that this is someone who knows I don’t care for them and who’s supposed to not care for me is what makes it all the more chilling. And the longer it goes on the more scared I get. I hate to admit it, but yeah, these obsessive, repetitious peeks into my life really have me feeling stalked, followed, spied on and downright creeped out. One click would shut them out, but it would also shut out non-members who genuinely like me and what I have to say. Perhaps I should leave here and go someplace else. I’d still have a public blog my friends could follow, but until they found me there, I would at least have a little shelter from this person and a temporary escape.

I’m doing my part by staying away and watching my language at least when it comes to how I refer to this person. Well, I would really appreciate it from the bottom of my heart if they would do the same and just go away. After all, if we follow someone’s blog so closely, isn’t it supposed to be because we like them and what they have to say? Because they interest us? Yet I doubt I’m a person of interest in this person’s eyes or that they like anything about me.

I feel almost the same as I would if I walked by a window in my place to find them (or anyone else) peering in at me. They know I know they’re there. They know I don’t like it. They know I know they don’t like me. Yet they won’t go away.

It’s gotten to the point that I’m so afraid to accept friend invites anywhere and I literally mean anywhere. When I get one I have to stop and ask myself if they could possibly know I’m a member of that site, and if so, could it really be them sending the invite? And every time I hear a strange sound when I’m all alone in these woods my nerves start twanging.

They’re watching me. Always, always watching, gawking and possibly planning God only knows what. I can only hope and pray for my safety and that of my husband. That means hoping that this person gets sick of me and bored with watching, watching, and more watching. Really, I’m not that interesting. Not that interesting at all.

Andy had me cracking up the other day when we were remembering some phone pranks we used to pull 20 years ago. I remembered the first thing he said we used to do, but I forgot all about the “relative pranks.” The one I remembered is how we would use our 3-way calling to each dial a number at the same time and let the two suckers that answered be oh so confused, each insisting they didn’t call anyone.

Then we’d call people with the same last name, hoping they’d be related and get into a conversation about whatever. Sometimes they did, eventually forgetting to try to solve the “mystery” of how they came to be on the phone in the first place. One time we listened for about 10-15 minutes or so to a couple of sisters talking. But crab cake recipes simply didn’t interest us and neither did discussions of tennis, so eventually we gave up our silence.

“Let’s hang up on these folks,” I said.

“Who is that?!” said sister #1.

“I agree,” Andy said. “They’re boring.”

“I don’t know!” said sister #2.

“Who do you want to call next?” asked Andy.

“OMG, there’s someone on the line! You hear that, don’t you?” said sister #1.

“How ‘bout crossing the Drinkwines with the Drinkwaters?” I suggested.

“Yeah, I hear it, alright. What the hell’s going on?” said sister #2.

“Great idea,” said Andy, and so we hung up on them, thus causing them to hang up on each other as well.

ROTFL!