My Name is Eliza G and I am a cyber stalker. There I said it. What a load off. If you are reading this via the link I posted on Facebook you may be one of my “victims.”
I never stalked before the internet as I was afraid that if I called the call could be traced, or if I drove by a house I would been seen. If I just happened to be somewhere my mark happened to be I felt that I would be figured out. Plus, any of those forms of stalking would be very costly and time consuming and I’m very lazy. But, I’ve always had an unhealthy curiosity about the lives of others. I couldn’t sleep the night I saw The Conversation for the first time. I realized I was exactly like the Gene Hackman character. My habit started two years ago and was enabled by Facebook, a tool that makes stalking convenient, affordable and safe.
My first stalkey was another writer who I considered the competition. She was someone I knew casually and had spoken to a few times. I monitored her progress quit closely. I actually know the number of paid writing jobs she had (12) verses the number of paid jobs I’ve had (2). The couple of time we talked we discussed what qualities make someone a good writer: the ability to play the role of the observer,( Herman Mellville) having iconoclastic sensibilities,(Sinclair Lewis) having a sense of adventure(Jack Kerouac) and being totally screwed up (Dorothy Parker) . Every time I saw one of her articles I couldn’t help but feel jealous. It also offended my sense of justice. I mean, what did she have that I didn’t have. I have way fewer friends than she does, I’m far more bitter and sarcastic then she’ll ever be. I’m much more impulsive and slutty. I’m infinitely more screwed up then she was. It just didn’t seem fair. I kept checking her Facebook page waiting for her to fail. When-ever I had a little writing triumph I would be sure to post it on my page in the hopes that she would see it. I didn’t so much care if anyone else saw it; just her. I am guessing (hoping ) that she is completely unaware of all of this.
The next person I stalked was a boy I liked. I’m not being cute, he was actually a boy. Or at least a boy compared to me. He was no less than 15 years younger then me. I’d met him all of twice. It started out very innocently. I has a small flash crush. I just checked out his profile; likes and interest that sort of thing. It turned out we had every single thing in common. Every single solitary thing. We liked all the same movies and all the same books. We had the same favorite quote (really, universe? Really?) I looked at his profile every day . I kept wanting him to say something that would piss me off. Recently he had a picture of himself at a concert I wanted to go to with some girl his own age who was beautiful. Thank you Facebook.
The most recent person I stalked was a former boss of mine who I could not stand. She fancied herself an actress and was the phoniest person I ever met. After college she had gone to New York to attempt a Broadway career and failed miserably. Instead of being humble her failing had made her more arrogant. She would constantly tell us how superior she was to us because she had a degree in theater (blow off class). She had returned to Denver to be a phone room manager. She got a few very small rolls in local theater including the dinner theater production of the play Clue at a theater in a rural area and bragged anbout it like she was Meryl Streep. She quit the job to pursue a career in Denver live theater which is like having a career as a bartender in Utah.
I cyber stalked her waiting for her demise ; a bad review instead there were several good coments, but they seemed odd. They were all reviews of plays she was in, she always had the smallest part in the play, yet they always mentioned her. I realized that she had hired a publicist. So I left comments under every review saying, “Oh Look Heather, you hired a publicist.” She never responded, but the reviews stopped suddenly.
So that’s my story. This his my first day of stalker sobriety. Anyone want to sponsor me? Just send me a friend request.