Sunday, January 11, 2009


As if the "niece" comment wasn't enough, I recently got semi-stalked by the old guy. Okay, he wasn't staking out my house or anything, but here's the deal. I haven't written him back an email in awhile because I've been swamped at work, or swamped procrastinating at work by blogging.

Anyway, he kind of freaked about this about three days ago, like Yahoo was having its own special conspiracy against us getting together to have a drink since there had been some issues before with me not getting his emails. (Although part of thinks the real issue was, even though I wasn't getting his emails, I wasn't really writing him to freak out about it like he did). Anyway, I just really haven't responded since then (work, puppies, blog, occasional shower).

SO, then today I get an email from him at Yahoo freaking out about whether the emails he sent got through. (Yes, I just didn't have time to reply). And that was annoying enough, but then he UPPED the ante by sending me an email AT MY WORK EMAIL disclosing that he:

1) was aware that sending an email at my workplace was weird since he had to google my name, land on my page and inspect my attorney profile (which, he informed me, has a very nice headshot. Yeah, thanks.) BUT

2) he was very concerned that I had fallen off the face of the planet and was currently headed directly toward the sun (well, not really what he said. Sardonic license here) SO

3) he then did some further investigation and found my landline number, called it and left a message. And sure enough he did. Creeped, creeped, creeped out.

Oh my, my. The buck stops here. Besides, my cheap psychology reads suggest this guy might have some attachment issues. As in latching on to women and sucking the complete life out of them.

Sadly, my first reaction was to tell him I had some trial in Malaysia, but now since he has all my personal contact information he would probably call my office phone every day that I claimed to be gone, and I'd have to put my secretary on stalker alert. (Although she'd be more than capable, the woman's got balls.)

So, I did the adult thing. The, write him back and say "it's not you, it's me, I'm tired, I'm cynical, I'm stressed, I'm CURED for fuck's sake." let's just leave it at that. It was very firm. Let's hope it sticks.

This is why, instead of meeting new people, I have often thought of relying on my back-up list consisting of boys I have known well a good deal of my life and could probably marry. Unfortunately, it's down to about three and one is spending like five years walking across Syria, Iran, Georgia, and all those -istan countries ;learning languages and writing about villages, and not understanding my protests that white western women don't fare so well in those places. So, he's out for the moment. Oh well.

But honestly. after the shudders that went through my body at the sound of that guy's eager voice on my answering machine - I don't think "leave me the hell alone" is looking like such a bad status.

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