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My Profile
Fairytales for a Practical Princess - 2008-11-30
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10:20 a.m. - 2004-07-16
I’m not much of a stats whore. I don’t check them very often. I don’t write for numbers, I write to stay sane. However, since half my buddy list has locked down recently, a few more have defected entirely because of snoops and flamers, and just about every diarist has a nightmare story of relatives, exes, and false friends deliberately fishing for secrets (or at least private thoughts) I’ve been watching my stats a bit closer. No big surprise, I’m being snooped. On one hand it’s a fair argument to say that a public diary posted on the Internet is hardly private. If I put it up then what I say is there for anyone to read. Nor am I big on a camouflage. I don’t use a lot of deliberately vague language. This is mostly for my own self, I hate reading diaries that are so peppered with initials it’s like trying to read a bowl of alphabet soup. Hard to make any kind of emotional rapport someone whose entries read like this: B came over to F’s today, HC was there and said the ZZ at the M was trying to K Q’s N. My response? WTF??? On the flip side there is courtesy. I know where my son’s blog is. I do not read it. That’s his place. If I want to know how he is I ASK him. I do not invade his space and riffle through his journal. I have given my URL to 3 people in physical space. I trust them implicitly. There’s nothing in my diary I would not say to their faces. Over the last 3 days I’ve been googled 29 times. Not unusual except it’s not a google looking for ‘blue vomit’ or ‘ugly bras’ that snags my page. These googles are looking for ME. My handle. Also over these last 3 days I’ve gotten enough page hits to know someone has read my entire archive. I have not gotten a note. This tells me it’s not a new fan trying to catch up. This is a snooper. A worthless coward. A sneak. This creeps me out. It’s likely whoever it is has been to my home. I am left to wonder whether this person also peeks in my closets, pokes through my dresser drawers, and digs around in my purse when my back is turned. Hey snoopy-head, do you read my paper journal too? Open my mail? Take a look-see in my nightstand hoping to find something embarrassing? Do you feel better now that you’ve gotten all the ‘dirt’? Feel all smug and superior that you know things about me I’d have never told you otherwise? I thought seriously about locking down. But I hate locked diaries almost as much as I do the alphabet soup ones. I’ve met an amazing group of people through this venue, people I’d have never known otherwise due to geography and circumstance. Locking would keep this spying creep from making any more raids on my thoughts, but it would also close the door on new friends. And friends matter more to me than the slimy behavior of the snooper. I figure anyone selfish enough to sneak into my diary hoping to score some dirt isn’t anyone whose feelings I have to worry about. This person neither respects me nor cares about me enough to be a true friend. I should care what he/she thinks? Not bloody likely. Eavesdrop away, you prying pig. One day you’ll out yourself by knowing something you shouldn’t and you will be revealed in a way far more uncomfortable than the position you’ve put ME in with your poking and backstabbing. What goes around, comes around, pal. Remember that. ~LA
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