So, it probably won't come as any surprise to you - you faceless readers of this here blog, but I have some pretty cool and famous friends. Yeah, and I'm not even including my first name basis friendship with the star of Rookie Blue. Yeah, Rookie Blue.
Anyway, I was just messaging one of my famous friends, who recently had to change her name on Facebook because of some scary incidents of being stalked...again, you read that right: I, Real Housewife of Irvine, have such a famous friend, that she, not only had to change her name on Facebook, BUT is being stalked. (Cue Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You." What? Probably the greatest movie of stalking EVer.)
So, they we were joking back and forth about stalking, when I suddenly remembered that I too have been stalked! Good times, right? No seriously, it was during my first semester at college. Each morning I would wake up and find flowers, poems, and I think food one time, outside my door. With each gift, a note would be left expressing his love for me and then a description of some time "this admirer" saw me on campus. At first I was sort of creeped out, and then when it continued, I continued to be creeped out. At night, my roommate and I would try to stay up and wait for my stalker to drop off his tokens of adoration, but we always seemed to miss him. Finally, one night, I and some friends, were headed back to our dorms on the campus bus, when this guy, who was obviously very drunk, got on and sat down close to us. After a few stops, he turned around and said, while pointing to me, "I know where you live." I would like to take a moment and stop here to point out, if any of you are thinking of getting into stalking or stalking me, please remember the number one rule of stalking: DON'T TELL THE PERSON, WHO YOU ARE STALKING, THAT YOU KNOW WHERE THEY LIVE. It sort of takes the mystery out of the game.
And while I'm dispensing some guidelines for stalking let's talk about rule number two: WHEN STALKING MANIFESTS ITSELF IN GIFTS AND POEMS - MAKE THEM COOL. I can still remember my stalker leaving some sonnet at my door about "Sweet Katherine." Really a sonnet? You think a sonnet is going to get me to fall in love with you? On the other side of the sonnet is there a check for a million dollars - because now I'm feeling a lot more love out of this gesture.
And lastly number three: IF THE GUY IS HOT IT'S NOT STALKING, BUT ROMANTIC. IF HE LOOKED LIKE MY 1997 ADMIRER THEN HE IS DEFINITELY CLASSIFIED AS A STALKER. Remember - hot = ok. not hot = restraining order.
I'm happy to report that once all my friends and I screamed at the same time, "YOU ARE THE STALKER!" and ran off the bus screaming like a man with a chainsaw was chasing us, I stopped getting my morning surprises. Unfortunately, during my senior year my lacrosse team hired a new manager...yep, Shakespeare himself was now being paid to watch me.
Oh, stalking...
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