Knock on Wood

It's been almost two months since the psycho stalker has tried to contact me-- knock on wood. Psycho stalker was the guy who was a friend who thought he might become something more. It was not to be.

He didn't see things that way. He was Mr. I'll-Love-You-Till-the-Day-You-Die. He once told me that I was secretly in love with him but in denial and that one day we would be married. I had flashes of Tom Petty's "Mary Jane's Last Dance" video running through my head, which made me giggle because I not only have an inappropriate sense of humor, but a seriously morbid sense of humor.

It's also been a while since I've heard from Aunt Jo. Almost a month! Thank you, Sally! I'm sure she must've heard my pleas and either gave Aunt Jo a different fake number or her actual number. I don't care which. She's not calling me anymore. Yay!

Now, this time, I'm sure I didn't jinx myself because I knocked on wood.