I'm stalking you.

So there's this person--a complete stranger--that I internet stalk. Not like with a vengeance or anything. It's not all ready and grabby and eager like. Just casually. I casually read her blog and look at her pictures. Sometimes I cheer for her and sometimes I cringe. I try to create a timeline of her life through her photos and stories. I know about her past jobs but her current job remains a mystery. Something with the government. I'm guessing it's the state government. I know she's been dating the same guy for a long time and they often have problems. I don't know what the exact problems are. She used to blog about her friends but she seldomly does anymore. She often comes out--unintentionally I think--sounding like Ethan Hawke's character in Reality Bites. Embarrassingly dramatic. It makes me empathize with her more. I know I do that too. I know that she loves her mom but I know nothing about her dad. I know about her pet and her money problems but I don't know if she finished college or what her major was. She lives on the west coast. She's younger than me. She changes her hair style often and I think her new cut and color suits her better than the long, black hair did. Her friends look like my friends and I'm sure our boyfriends would get along. She seems perpetually displeased or unhappy but I think she's happiest when she's unhappy. She's very petite and pale and has a bad attitude. I often want to comment on her blog but I think that she'd make a snarky comment back at me about reading it. It'd be something mean but predictable. Something about how I should get a life and stop reading about hers. And it would imply, in a very insincere way, that she didn't want a stranger following her life. But that's crap because all bloggers want people to follow their life. And I am. I am following the minutae of her existence and it's not creepy. It's entertainment.