Sponsor me in the 2005 MS Walk! Why? Read here.
So I'm afraid home internet access is a dangerous thing for me. Almost 11:30 and I'm sitting in my living room, typing this entry instead of shutting off the Friends rerun and heading to bed. Oh well. Sleep is overrated. Or something.
I finally got my email to work from the iMac. Funny how in all the setup stuff they give you, they don't include the info on what the POP or SMTP addresses should be in Outlook to set up your account. I had to search through about 20 different help pages. How hard is it to print "type 'mail.mac.com' in the POP address line"? Not that hard, obviously. I just did it. I'm still fine.
I told several of my friends today that I'm keeping this journal, although Brian is still the only person I've told how to find it, and I still haven't mentioned it to the Boyfriend. Maybe I'm underestimating him, but if the situations were reversed, I'd be consumed with finding it until I either Encyclopedia Browned my way into it or he got so sick of my stealthy attempt that he just sent me the URL. But that's just me. I'm nosy like that. I guess the fact that I've been reading all your journals gave me away like that, though.
After the first time the Artboy hooked back up with Amanda (the infamous Newe Year's Eve incident), I became a world-class spy. I went through his mail, listened to his messages, dug through his trash, read his paper journal. I was so sure he was cheating on me that I became obsessed with finding the proof. I never left his house or his side except to go to work. I figured he couldn't contact her as long as I was there, and if he did find a way, I'd know about it before long. I even checked his phone bill. I was sick. Of course, I was also right. But what I found didn't make me feel any better, and it didn't make me leave him. It just contributed to my feelings of worthlessness and made me a paranoid bitch.
Perhaps I wouldn't snoop through the Boyfriend's journal, given the opportunity. I have no reason not to trust him. I'd like to think that I've grown up a little bit since then. But I'm not sure.
On a different note, I added a counter to the bottom of this page. I've been surprised to discover that more than three people are reading my writing. Not that I'm disturbed by that--I'm actually rather fascinated (so I'm as much an exhibitionist as I am a vouyer). I'm just a little curious, that's all.
Off to bed. I can't type to Suddenly Susan. It makes me physically ill.
---------------------------------------------
Something to say about this entry?
Add your comments here (0 people have spoken already)
< R is for Rosemary. That's for Remembrance | Destination Dreamland >
