I look at all the NOSY people.

I feel like Edward Scissorhands a lot.

To my Nosy Neighbors: While I find it flattering that I am the topic of your conversation (even if such conversation is vicious and fictitious; I've always maintained it's better to be talked about, even negatively, than ignored completely), please keep your noses out of my business. I must, however, congratulate you on your creativity. How utterly imaginative of you to suspect that the scratches and dents on my car are the result of some wreckless collegiate driving, or a possible DUI. However, I must insist that to be truly imaginative, you need to suspend disbelief. Therefore, your story isn't even probable, because I'm responsible, a teetotaler, and the victim of a hit-and-run.

To the Men Working in my House: I can't really nag at you too much, I suppose, since you're being paid to be here and you are fixing my house. However. Please keep your conjectures about my whereabouts and activities to yourselves. Or if you must discuss, have the decency to do so out of earshot. Which would be off my property (sitting on a smoke break beneath my window doesn't count). I do not, contrary to popular belief, simply lie in bed all day, only leaving to go clothes shopping. I am up every morning at 7:30, whenceupon I walk my dog, breakfast, and get dressed. I usually, at that point, start doing something mildly productive. The reason you haven't seen me leaving this week is that I've been quite sick with a disgusting head cold. If you'd shut your mouths and OBSERVE something for a change, you might've noticed. And just because I stay upstairs, out of your way, doesn't mean that I lie in bed for hours and hours. I've been working on a paper discussing the symbolic settings of Bronte novels in tandem with Freud's psychoanalytic literary theories (namely those of dreams and suppressed vs. manifested meanings). So please. Quit telling my mother that she ought to get me out of bed. I wasn't there to begin with.

To Acquaintances Who Question Every Motive: In this age of information, I have a Facebook, a Twitter and a blog. If I wanted to publicize every iota of my life, I'm sure I could find a means of doing so.


Guys. I appreciate the fact that I'm so incredibly fascinating that you can't help discussing me every second of your mundane lives. But really? GIVE IT A REST AND LEAVE ME ALONE.