I’ve had 2 stalkers in the past few months.

(Cue scary music and door knob rattling here.)

Okay, not really, but I have had two people contact me out of the blue lately.

The first one googled my (real) name and found my email AT WORK. It really was more of a surprise than freaky though because I used to know her. It had been 11 years since I saw, heard, or thought about her. I know that sounds harsh, but it was a long time ago and I’ve sinced moved geographically and ideologically. See, I knew her back when I lived in Washington and was a hard-core, tongue-talking Pentacostal*. Since I’ve shed that past life and all the baggage that comes with it (guilt, shame, self-aggrandizement, othering, moral superiority, etc.), I naturally have not been in cahoots with my former fundy freinds. So it was a surprise to receive an email out of the blue from a ghost of my past. Not that I harbour ill feelings for her at all, quite the contrary; she was one of the only other young people (I was 18 at the time) caught up in that new lifestyle with me. She wrote me to say hello and to tell me that she had thought about me over the years and wondered what I was up to. She also told me that she now has 5 (FIVE!) kids and did Huz and I have any? I quickly responded to her email telling her that it was great to hear from her and how surprised I was to receive her email, how I couldn’t believe she had 5 kids and that Huz and I dont’ have any yet because we’ve been in school since then, where we are now and what we’re doing, etc.

Want know how that stalking episode ended? With my response email. Yep. I took the time to be all surprised, to remember the past, who she was (and who I was when she knew me), and to respond to her email filling her in on my life as it is now. And she never responded. Nice.**

My second stalker found me via my blog and also knew me from before. She found Through My Lens via a friend’s blog and started reading my rants. She recognized me from a party a year ago and secretly read about me, my marriage, and my cats (and all the other stuff I dump on this here public space) for quite some time before contacting me. She emailed me and told me she thought she had met me at a school party and that she loved my pictures (way to compliment yourself into my heart!) and maybe could we have coffee some time? Sure, I said. I’m always up for meeting new people and making more friends.

We’ve gotten together a few times and now I’ve really gotten myself into trouble. Not that she’s not cool or anything, she is, but I’m scheduled to teach her how to cook this weekend. What!? I’m no chef! I can’t teach you how to cook! Okay, maybe I can, though I’m no self-acclaimed chef or baker extraordinare. Got that? Okay, glad we’re clear.

Having established that, I do need to brag about using the grill for the first time – all by myself – a few weeks ago. It was a hit***. I lit the coals, waited until they got hot and ashy, dumped them into the grill (well, okay, I asked Huz to do that part), and made a fantabulous dinner.

Behold, girl meets grill, thank you very much:

Grilled Chicken with a citrus tarragon sauce:

GIRL meets grill, thank you very much!

Served with an heirloom tomato and fresh mozzarella salad:

Heirloom tomato and fresh mozzarella salad

We ended this meal with some homemade Strawberry Margarita popsicles that Huz and I made (too bad I could only find these cheesy sippy cup molds at Target, huh?****):

Homemade popsicle fun

Homemade popsicle fun

*Betcha didn’t know that about me, did you? Alas, it’s true.

**And, no, I didn’t even tell her that I was no longer a Pentecostal or holy roller. Maybe she picked it up in my story; I’m not sure.

***Get this – I’ve been married 11 years and Huz said that this was probably the best meal I’ve ever made. Dude!

****Why does Target.com have more stuff than the actual store!? I just ordered a great popsicle mold that an adult can use with dignity.

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