We may have found the culprit ...

I checked just now ... you know, to see how the stalker is doing ... It looks like he may be sweating a bit with all of this surveillance ... desperate for fresh air ...

Or perhaps he's joined his friends (as IF a stalker would have friends!) down at Sushi Fix for a quick bite ...

Or maybe we might just want to pinpoint the suspicious-looking unit here ...

Don't let the pink flowers create a false sense of security.

They warn about that kind of stuff ALL the TIME at self-defense school.

Thanks to all of you who have been stalking-back. Don't let your mom tell you you're being sassy ... it just needs to be done.

I May Have Found the Problem ...

Go ahead. Click here. Time yourself. How long does it take an average person to find the Communications department of the San Diego Police Department?

My poor file has to makes it from someone's desk that isn't even on the map and has to make it's way all of the way to Karen Butler's desk for the final hiring OK. THEN it will have to step back down a step - back off of the map - to the person who will actually make the call.

Wee, lost little file.

The Great Stalk-Back

We all know my Stalker now. I've decided we should do a little Stalk-Back.

He's over there somewhere ...

Just stare a little bit, would you? Not too obvious, just peek in those windows to see if you see him.

One Dark Night ...

Quickly, before I begin this story, I have to shut the blinds ... Because something really bizarre has happened.

Not long ago, I was walking at night (on my way home from voting, it was that long ago) through our great little neighborhood. There were lots of folks out - it was election day and ours is a walking type of community anyway.

I was completely spaced out (as is quite normal for me!) and walking across a street - in the middle of the crosswalk, in the middle of the street, and I passed a man who was walking the other direction.

I wasn't quite so spaced out that I didn't notice that he looked at me, did a double take, then stopped, thought a second, and turned around.

Ruh-roh.

This gentleman then says to me, "I know this might seem strange, but we're neighbors."

"Cool." I think. "Why doesn't he look familiar?"

Aloud, I say, "Do you live on the 3rd floor?" (That's local speak for "Surely I don't recognize you because I'm on the 4th floor and most of the people live down on 3.")

"No." he replies. "I live across the street."

Wait for it.

Yep. Across the street as in this guy lives ACROSS THE STREET AND RECOGNIZES ME FROM LOOKING ACROSS THE STREET TO MY APARTMENT! 'Friends' Naked Guy flashbacks anyone?

Later that night I told Talen this story (hoping that perhaps this would be the thing to keep her from wandering the apartment in her underwear) and she said, "Cool, mom. We have a stalker."
Yes. We have our very own, very yuppie, stalker. Don't worry, the blinds are closed so he won't know we're talking about him. He's very nice, you know. For a stalker.

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Click: Who is this Laura person anyway?