I don't know why I thought about this, but I figure it might be a shred of evidence that I really am that damn great and perfect and what-not.

At the beginning of the summer last year, an ex of mine dropped by my house while I was alone and sleeping. She dropped a note at the doorstep, informing me that I was going to call her on her cell. First of all, for those who don't know, do not, I repeat, do not tell me what I am going to do if I have a choice. I will pick the other option just because I don't want to give you the satisfaction of being right.

But yes, this same chic stalked me for quite some time. I thought it was funny...and flattering. I still have the note but I don't know why. I guess it's just in case I need to show some authority figure. Oh, and the best part...

We were only together for a month.

Wait, actually, it was one day short of a month. I remember because I thought it made everything hilarious. I had to dump her because it just wasn't working for me. She was all happy and cheery, but relationships that involve me also involve my feelings.

She was a nice girl. A little crazy, but still nice. 29 days of being with me drove her to being my very own stalker. I'll admit, if I had been awake and noticed she was at my door, I would have asked her in for some 'fun.' No doubt. I'm a guy, I need lovin' too.

My voice is all weird. I sound like Barry White with a cold. Well, maybe not that deep, but close. Can't explain it either. Oh well. I think I may post more later.