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Guest Blogger: “I’m a Stalker. But In A Non-Creepy Way. I Think” | Today's Cliche - Marriage, Family, & Working Mommy... from BOTH Women's and Men's Perspectives

Wednesday, November 21, 2018

Guest Blogger: “I’m a Stalker. But In A Non-Creepy Way. I Think”

July 22, 2010 by  

I’ve guest posted for Tracie at Stir-Fry Awesomeness (what the hell that title means, I have no idea. I’d better ask her?) in the past and was honored. And, I love her. I’m a loyal reader; she just splits my pants. A most recent post had me belting, crying and laughing with streams of tears down the rosy cheeks. Can’t figure out if it’s because I can relate (big gulp)… or because (well, the streams of tears, anyway) I realize I’m a sucky writer. Her post is poignant.

Without further a-do (is that how you write that… “a do“? Sounds/feels weird to type. I’m sure it’s wrong, but no time to dictionary.com it):

Here’s Tracie:

“I’m a Stalker. But In A Non-Creepy Way. I Think”

Sometimes I look up ex-boyfriends and frenemies on Facebook.

(Don’t give me that look. You know you do it, too!)

I love it when some asshole that treated me like crap turns out to be fat, bald, and thrice divorced. Those are the days when Karma is my besty.

I just knew that’s what I was going to find yesterday when I was trolling for The One Who Drove Away.

(We’ll call him D.C. It’s short for douche canoe.)

Since everyone is too important and busy to read old posts, I’ll fill you in on the back story. This jerk basically left me at a convenience store when I was ready to pack off to Love Land with him. Then he came back to break my heart again just in case I wasn’t humiliated enough the first time.

I *knew* D.C. was going to be a complete train wreck. At the minimum he would be bald.

(We used to joke about how he would be bald from wearing his Army helmet for so many years. He’s a career asshole Army guy.)

But I was really suspecting that he would be one of those guys who still talked about the ‘good old days’. You know – the ones whose lives peaked in high school.

(I peaked in my 20’s so SHUT IT commenters and inner-critic.)

I was picturing a half-shirt, mullet, and a Skoal bandit do-rag in his profile picture. I imagined that his face would be puffy from all those nights spent drinking alone or with a some 60 year old hag whom he mooched off.


Unless D.C. used a profile picture that was 25 years old and/or Photoshopped it, he looks better now than he did 20 years ago and the bastard has a full head of hair.

D.C. has been married…excuse me… “happily married” for 16 years (insert eye roll and gagging here) and has two teenagers.

(I’m assuming that one of them is the kid he sired whilst wooing me but I’m completely over the situation and never think about it anymore. Ahem.)

D.C. actually got a college degree and has a real non-military job.

(In one of my evil fantasies he was being tortured by insurgents in Afghanistan. I’m as patriotic as the next gal but he deserves it.)

I was starting to feel bad about my own pathetic little life and wondering if I could put a Mafia Wars hit on him.

Then I looked at his activities/interests – running, scuba diving, hang gliding, biking… one outdoorsy, active hobby after another.

I reached over to smear some more peanut butter on my Hershey’s bar and pondered the situation a little further.

(What? I forgot where I hid the Reese’s. It’s called improvisation, people.)

I looked at his interests again.

There wasn’t anything about watching The Office and eating cheese. Not a word about pop culture, chocolate, or snarkasm.

So I reassured myself that we never were compatible.

Also, his douchebaggery probably saved me from tracking him down for back child support payments and an appearance on Maury.

That evening my husband raised himself from the couch, drove to Dairy Queen, and brought me back a cappuccino Heath Bar blizzard. I didn’t have to bribe him with sexual favors to make it happen.

That, my friends, truly is the definition of Happily Married.

PS I did not send D.C. a friend request.

PPS Because I have to do a little pr on my profile page first.

PPPS And Photoshop my pictures.

Do you Google or Facebook stalk anyone?

Were you happy or unhappy with what you found. Fess up!

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11 Responses to “Guest Blogger: “I’m a Stalker. But In A Non-Creepy Way. I Think””
  1. I LOVE Tracie too! This is one of my favorite posts of hers!


  2. Ally says:

    Laughing out loud next to my husband while reading this. Awkward.


  3. LOL! That is too funny. What’s worse though is bumping into your ex when you haven’t bathed or put on clothes the right size or done your makeup and you look like an absolute schlump and he tells you all the amazing things that he’s done with his life when you knew you knew you KNEW you were always smarter than him and see how that just came back to bite you in the…

    Oh, well, anyway, great post!

    Have an Extraordinary Day!


    Kat Reply:

    DID THAT seriously happen to you?

    I W O U L D A B S O L U T E L Y DIE fi that happened to me.

    PS – were the clothes “too big” or “too small”?


  4. Tracie says:

    Stir-Fry Awesomeness is my Rock Band name!


    Kat Reply:

    Okay, seriously? I’m pretty gullable…


    Tracie Reply:

    Yep. That’s how I got the blog name.


  5. I tend *blushing* to be a facebook snob and let people find me. BUT, when I stumbled across a wedding announcement in my current local paper for the sister of a boy I taught 600 miles away almost 10 years ago and realized that the family and I had both relocated to the same town, I did search for the child on FB and then looked up a bunch of other kids from that class, because, of course, they are all in college and none of them have their pages set to private!


    Kat Reply:

    It’s HARD not to “look”, right? Thanks for posting a comment and visiting. Means so much, girlfriend! Heading to your blog now!


  6. Pops says:

    For DF: Old and bald? But at least when old flames look you up they still see HOT! I’m not saying!


  7. HILARIOUS! I actually just was found by my ex from high school a few months ago – you know, your first kiss, first love, first…ahem “everything”. We were going to get married, yada yada yada. Fast forward 20 years. I’m happily married with two girls. DEFINITELY bigger than I was back then, but my pictures on FB aren’t all terrible. Anyway, the ex has only one photo that is HORRIFIC. He’s divorced from a woman who cheated on him repeatedly. He moved in with a girl friend, they fooled around and he knocked her up. Though I wished him no evil (ok, maybe a teesy bit), I was definitely hoping I would win the whose-life-ended-up-better battle, and I SO did. What good is FB if not to stalk people? GREAT post!


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