And so it appears that no one has been reading my diary after all. Wait, that didn't come out right.
Once I started looking at my stats -- the host stats -- I could see that K was most certainly on to it. It seemed really clear. I wasn't angry or upset so much as dissapointed. We had agreed months ago that, since both of us were keeping diaries online, I wouldn't look for hers and she wouldn't look for mine. Easy.
But according to the host stats, someone in her dorm is reading it. Master of subtlety that I am, I wrote in a couple of entries about how I was googled and excited and now I could find out all kinds of things from looking at my stats. Did you get it, huh, huh? Did you see that I was sending some sort of idiotic coded message to someone, saying "I know you're reading my diary, so quit it!" A little too subtle, perhaps. It's an ongoing life-problem, but I digress.
When I talked to her on the phone Sunday, I mentioned the Sinus Headache of Death, and she didn't appear to know about it at all, even though I had written about it in an entry she must have read. Really, she has acting experience, but would not be so good at it as to bluff her way through an outright lie. I began to doubt the stats.
And then I did the most uncharacteristic thing I could possibly have done: I asked her about it outright when she called yesterday. Go, me!
And, as it turns out, she is not reading my diary after all. This is all part of the magic mumbo-jumbo that mothers do. She was telling me the truth, and I have no reason whatsover to believe otherwise. Because, get this:
We talked a bit about online diaries (and the odd coincidence that someone else in her dorm is reading mine, which could happen; there are hundreds of kids in it) and she said she didn't so much like the diary site she was using and tried diaryland but couldn't quite figure it out. I said that when she comes home for Easter, I'll help her set it up and make her a nice little template and so on.
Which means that she is going to tell me her username and password, so I can help her, and yet she knows that I will never go read her diary, because I said that I wouldn't. And I won't.
Is this a great kid, or what? She trusts me because she knows I trust her. And doesn't lie to me (about big things, anyway, not the normal teenage crap) because she knows I don't lie to her (about big things, anyway.)
Sometimes this being a mother thing is very, very good.
Googled today for:
- lost weight ring too big (I came up first!)
- Where can I find quotations about purple? (4th)
Amuses the crap out of me.
48dF - nice evening
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I'm watching Friends
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