And the hits just keep on coming!

This has been a very rough week for me. Emotionally pillaged. That's me.

Monday saw me beaten. And I've been dealing with the wreckage all week. I tried to explain on Thirstday to Bill exactly how I felt. He couldn't understand WHY. And the more I tried to explain, the more he didn't get it. And as I was explaining, my stupid eyes started to water. So yeah. I guess I'm not as 'over it' as I thought/hoped I was.

Because I couldn't seem to make myself understood, I got brave (read: stupid). I decided that I'd send him my post. I made the mistake of TELLING him it was my post. I also emailed the post to my mom and my sisters, so they'd know what was going on with work without me having to call and explain it on the phone and thereby get all upset because they'd be far too sympathetic. Anyway. Back to the point at hand.

So. Because of Scott finding my blog, I've been having a little love affair with my site-meter.

As you can see from yesterday's post.

I logged in expecting to make a quick little post before I went out for the evening, and I found that someone had searched for the blog by quoting a VERY large chunk of Monday's post into the navbar. And as you can see? It freaked me out.

Because it meant it had to be ONE OF THEM.

You all know how to get here already. You all already KNOW my secrets. But this meant it had to be one of a very few people.

I freaked out. I knew it couldn't be Scott, he doesn't know how to do an advanced search. But I WANTED it to be Scott, because that would just be the same person seeing the same stuff he'd already seen. I was embarrassed when he found it the first time, but I haven't said anything negative about him, so I decided to get over it. I decided I didn't really mind.

But I asked him if it was him, and it clearly wasn't. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes with his feigned innocence, but this wasn't fake. He really CAN only find the blog by googling himself. :) (Sitemeter showed me that, too.)

I hurt his feelings when I was freaking out. He assumed it was all about him. It had nothing to do with HIM. It had to do with me and my perceived privacy. It had to do with SOMEBODY. Somebody I didn't know, or rather DID know and didn't want reading, consciously seeking me out and peeping into my bid-niss.

Yeah. So I did a bit more site-meter digging. And checked the archives. And checked my sent mail. And figured it out. But I wanted to be wrong. Because honestly? None of the options was good.

If it was my mother? It'd just be embarrassing. I don't want my mother reading about my relatively non-existent love-life. I don't want her to read about how shitty last Christmas was for me. I don't want her to read about how I don't really feel like I fit there anymore. It would hurt her feelings, and I would NEVER want to do that to her.

It wouldn't be Jen, because if it was? She'd have said Hi.

It wouldn't be Amy, because she has the skills, but she couldn't care less about spending time online. Also? She sent me an email right away after I sent her my Monday post, and she was all sympathy. She phoned me, to make sure I was okay.*

So that left one person. Only one other person had the access to the phrases. Only one other person had the clues required to operate Google. So yeah.

Bill was aware of the freaking out, because I was on MSN having a nervous breakdown while I was getting ready to go out--just after I'd found that I'd been outed. TWICE IN ONE WEEK. He played it cool, didn't volunteer anything. And I didn't ask him anything directly. Because I didn't want it to be him.

But after freaking out on Scott in one window, and hurting his feelings by calling him a stalker, I realized that it couldn't BE Scott. I had to apologize and come to grips with the deductions I've already listed up above. I went back to the Sitemeter for some more research.

And I looked at what they read.

And I got embarrassed.

And I said to Bill, "What did you read this afternoon?"

"Nothing."

"Ah. It's interesting about Google how you can track back and see who was looking at what."

"Uh. You can?"

*****

I went out. :) And I had a great time with the girls, much better than I expected, actually.

We went to the Lower Deck, and as it's my HappyPlace^TM it made me very happy to be there. I haven't been there since the summer, and I had forgotten how much I enjoy it. It's just so much FUN!

We got a post and 3 stools right away, which was awesome. Had a great view of the band, and tons of room. We laughed and joked all night. Sam mumbled on my left, Angela preened on my right. I sang along to pretty much every song and smiled like somebody had just given me an ice cream cone. :) It was fun.

We met a couple of fellas from Cape Breton...one was Joe Over-the-Top crazy outgoing. We made fun of each other all night. His opening line (for every single girl that walked by all night) was "Are you with the band?" Freaking hilarious. Because it was sooooooo much cheese. His buddy Robbie was a big, silent, very timid man. He was very nice, we chatted quite a lot because his flamboyant friend kept buggering off. Every time his friend left, there was this look of terror that would suddenly appear on Robbie's face. He would look around slightly panicked, then look back at me and I'd ask him a question, and he'd smile and then be fine. We chatted a fair bit.** His loud friend kept coming back and saying "He never talks--" and I'd say "We've been talking quite a bit. Mostly about what an arsehole you are, but we're chatting up a storm." And Robbie would laugh, and talk, and it was fine.

We had a riot. The boys had a good time. As evidenced by the fact that they followed us out of the bar. We were decidedly not interested Like That. But it was nice to meet them. The loud guy was annoying, very grabby, VERY drunk. But his big, quiet friend was very nice, and I enjoyed chatting with him.

We were getting into the car to go home, and Sam said "Sadie, I love going out with you!! You're so much FUN!" Which was nice to hear, because I wasn't sure how she felt about me very much. We don't interact a whole lot at work, and I always got the impression she was a little bit snooty. I found out last night (never give a Newfie a half a dozen drinks if you want a moment's silence!) that she's paranoid that people at work don't like her. She takes everything someone has ever said to her incredibly personally, and if there's a negative way to interpret it? That's the version she figures has happened. She is also more than a little bit vain. :) Which is also entertaining.

Angela's just Angela. She's still soooo shallow. But she's not nearly as confident in real life situations as she comes off at work, and I wonder why that is. She's all about being Pretty and Blonde, but then has no confidence that she's pulled it off. And she's stunning when she wants to be. She was also sober (as was I) and was decidedly unamused by drunk guy. And I know that she was embarrassed that I kept talking to the big, burly guy.

I figure, I'm just out to chat and have a good time. I'm not interested in picking up. I made it pretty clear that I just wanted to chat, so I wasn't worried. Besides, big guys need lovin' too. :)

So we had a great time. And then I came home.

And Bill was online. So we chatted briefly. He actually made a REAL profile on POF and it's really nice. It's sweet, and it SAYS something about him. And it makes me sad, because it'll probably work and then we won't be able to chill anymore. :) But that would make me happy too, because I know how happy it would make HIM.

So anyway. I just came out and asked him if it was him. And it was.

So...Hi Bill. ~wave~

Yeeeeeeah.

We had a nice chat last night, and he said more to me than I think he's ever said about 'stuff'. But I still am really no more informed than I was back in October. And I still don't know how I feel about being 'Outed'.

He said I don't have anything to be embarrassed about. Well. Yeah. Sure I don't. Because they're MY thoughts, and nobody should get to judge them. Except that I put them out here where people can do just that. And I know that nobody's as harsh a judge as I am (unless it's OJ)...but. BUT.

But I said he can keep reading if he wants to. Because honestly? I'd have likely let him read it if he'd ever shown the slightest bit of interest in the address. I never offered, and he never asked. And I figured that his lack of nosiness would keep it that way, and that was fine with me. But it wasn't. He's nosey after all. :) He said he didn't realize it was going to be like a diary. I pointed out that once he found that out, he stayed for a REALLY long time. And I didn't point out that I saw that he'd come back more than once, too. *laugh* But I said he can keep reading.

And well. Hell. We can't all be Twenty. I wish that I were so talented!

Anyway. So yeah.

I apologize for freaking out so much this week. It's been dramatastic around here, and that's not what I like in my life. I don't think my nerves can take any more drama, to be completely honest. So please. If I know you? And you're reading? Just drop me a freaking line. Wave in the comment box or something.

The two worst things in my world have happened this week, and I haven't died. So I think we're going to be just fine.

Today's a lovely day, so I think I'm going to the park. I need some time to just wander and remember how much I like nature. I haven't done that in a long while, and I miss it. And it's only -5* today, so it's a great day for it.

Have a happy Sunday, folks. I'll talk to you later today I'm sure. :)






*Mum did the same. It is nice to know that they care, but that's why I didn't call home on Monday. I didn't want sympathy yet. I didn't want pep-talks, I wanted to be sad, and angry, and disappointed, and I didn't want to have to be focussed on anybody else's feelings about my situation. I needed it to be all about ME, and I have to say, that when I get too much sympathy? I don't really know how to deal with it very well. I brush it off like so much dirt, because I'm not sure how to respond. I don't like to let people know that I'm hurt about things. I don't like to let people know that they've 'gotten in'. I don't know why, but I always figure that they'll somehow manage to perceive that as a weakness and use it 'to get me'. Persecution complex much?

** I hate when people look uncomfortable in social situations. If I can, I always try to make them feel more comfortable. When I go to a party? I usually look for somebody sitting alone in the corner to talk to. They're usually way more interesting than the loud-mouthed jackass that's screaming out for attention in the middle of the room.