My spoon just fell in my ice cream
Completely unrelated to the rest of this entry. I have decided that when by some miracle I am rich enough to live next door to the goddess Nigella (and I have somehow contrived to make Keeley Hawes my bestest friend) I would like Jonathan Meades to be my other neighbour.
I am concerned. I am concerned that my mother knows stuff that she shouldn’t. About me, about B. I blogged a wee while ago about why I can’t be arsed to password protect anything on this blog (short version because I’m lazy and forgetful), and thus why I’m quite generalised in a lot of my writing. Not terribly personal a lot of the time.
Most of you who read this probably have a fair amount of knowledge about me either direct (from Xanga land years), guessed because you are all latent psychics, gleaned from Facebook or from this horse’s mouth. Otherwise on here, the most public internet place that I reside, I am pretty private.
But not everywhere on the internet. And I think I may have been spied. And I don’t know what to do (and yes I know this starting sentences with “and” is an awful habit but next to most bad habits I think it’s okay).
My main reason for suspecting is that out of the blue my mother has started asking some very strange questions. Now either local radio (source of most of my mother’s knowledge) has been running a very odd season of programmes, or one of her lackeys has spotted me, or B. I can’t complain in some ways as the site in question isn’t private, but it’s just not a place I’d expect to find one of the eternally paranoid crew-who view the internet by and large as a holding bay for paedophiles, African shysters and other miscreants.
Frankly it’s one of those conversations that I was hoping to put off until one or other of us was deceased, or in Australia.
So my options are:
1) brazen it out and risk wrath and unknown hell.
2) continue to be vague in my answers and delete myself from said site.
3) lie, and delete myself.
4) consistently have a resource of stories about the sort of things that would make your average 60 something woman furious to distract her from asking anymore questions.
5)????
1. Brazen it out. Tis what I did when my lot found the blog. Probably not quite in the same vein, but I wasn’t going to change my online presence for anyone, so they’ve put up and shut up.
If they don’t like it, they don’t read it. It sounds so simple…
Oh dearie, is this the site I think it is?
I’m broadly with Zo on this one. I know “better out than in” isn’t always the case, but lying just ties you up in more knots.
Thanks ladies, I had a feeling that was probably the best approach.
Max-yep it’s the one you think it is.
*Very* strange that she found that! Bar lending her your comp and forget to clean the history file, or her walking past the screen at a bad moment, I can’t possibly imagine how.
Umm I know it seems very unlikely. However, her line of questioning and commentary of late has been *so* specific its the only thing I can think of…and said site does have an odd little ‘flaw’ in its calculatory abilities that I’ve noticed. And nowt as dangerous as gossipy lonely old ladies…