Stalker's Paradise, or, I was wrong, or, Steve is a creep

Some things are just creepy. I realize I should not admit that; that I, a tall, young unmarried male, should not admit to qualms of any sort. Weakness will not attract anything but weakness; blah blah blah. Let me share a few random little stories from my life— that may or may not be connected—and then tell me whether or not I should admit to being creeped out. But really, tell me.

RANDOM STORY #1
My aunt is quite frightened about my sister’s blog and scary people doing all sorts of horrible things to her because she says her husbands name, the city they live in, and posts pictures of her family there. After consulting with me, my sister decided she didn’t need to worry about it.

RANDOM STORY #2
I added a counter to my blog. I am obviously not the most popular writer, which should come as no surprise. If you know me, you know that my attempts at humor are frail, that my intellect is weak, and that my opinions are many but without conviction, eloquence, or firmness and hence are rarely conveyed well, let alone make lasting impressions on anyone. However, one of the interesting things about this counter is that it lets me see where my hits are coming from, both physical location and referring web-site, and where they go afterwards. (Before you get too worried, I can’t tell who you are beyond what city your internet provider is in or anything beyond where you were immediately before or after my website, and that only if you clicked on a link). Now, there are some interesting trends that have appeared.

I have had hits from Portugal, Norway, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, China, India, and all over the States, with the majority in the OH and the UT. I have had referrals from the couple of LDS blogs I comment on, from a couple friends who linked to my blog on their own, and a bunch from Facebook. But then there are the more random hits. They range from blogs about recipes to one that was suspiciously like NAMBLA, (!) (!!) (!!!) . I have often wondered, “Where the heck are these people coming from?”

RANDOM STORY #3
Now, I have had comments here from about three people. My sister, Ameree, and a couple friends. I have recently read a few people talking about the blogstalking phenomenon (like the second half of this entry). This does not necessarily surprise me: I read many more articles than I comment on. I can’t speak for other’s experiences, but comments are not the only way people give me feedback about what I write. Some people have chosen to email me directly Some have even talked to me in person about it. Imagine that.

RANDOM STORY #4
Steve is that guy in my class that owes me twenty bucks. (Boise State owned Oklahoma in the 2007 Fiesta Bowl; check ESPN. Then ask the people who were in the room when we made that bet. There were plenty of them, but for some reason there isn't an extra twenty in my wallet.) I was shooting the bull with Steve yesterday about women. He told of how he was “bored as shit” (sorry Mom, his words) over Christmas and read my blog (What other reason is there, anyway?). He brought up my two call rule that I wrote about previously, and said he identified with what I’d written, and wrote a comment. Evidently it was a little too “homoerotic” for him which isn't really saying much and then deleted it without posting. Which brings me to how these four random stories converge.

I was wrong, dear Auntie. There are plenty of creepy people Steve’s out there who can find and will read stuff that is as boring as this. Maybe we should be worried. But not about Steve-- he's got tuberculosis, so anyone should be able to outrun him.

You guessed it. Steve. Friday night. TB and all.