I guess I'm a stalker

If you're my friend and have ever asked me during a girly-slumber party, while nearly high on acetone from painting our nails, who I like, chances are I've lied straight to your face.

You see, I can't trust anybody with this information, not even my own sister. They all use it against me later on. Next thing you know, you'll be sitting in a bar across from some stranger and your sister will be telling them about how a decade ago you used to stalk boys in high school. Only she won't say used to, she'll make it out like you are currently a stalker.

Because I follow people in my car daily to see where they live. And when I was 14 I looked up my crush's address in the phone book. And I keep detailed files in a fireproof cabinet in my basement.

I mean geez, when did Googling people become a crime? What can I say, I used to work in a library, I know how to access information. Sorry if you don't know how. So you'll be sitting there across from these near-strangers, while your own sister, the one person you might trust with sensitive information, blabs on, calling you a stalker and naming names of guys you used to like. Luckily, she only knows about three--which is two too many if you ask me.

You've kept your big mouth shut about the rest of them, so unless she finds the hair you've swept up after you followed said crush to the barber shop, or she actually makes an inquiry at the county court house to see how many restraining orders have been filed against you, you're golden.

After you get over the initial shock of being stabbed in the back, er, pierced in the heart with your eyes wide open, you start to understand why she did it. She wants everybody to think you are a stalker so that no one will like you, because she's afraid to make you look too good (or even just decent). Because you're smart and you actually could find out everything about everybody if you really wanted to. Savvy?

P.S. I'm sorry I've lied to your face, but I just don't trust you that much.