This is a Facebook post from last year explaining my dislike for my best gal’s coworker who would ambush her Monday morning with, “So, how did you enjoy dinner at El Pinto” and “Was the hike at Petrified Forest fun?” or “I see you were in Newport Beach.”

This is the caption to a photo I posted on Facebook last year. I’m not going to share the photo here because I don’t want the lovely image tied to the severity in this article.

The photo is of my former best gal at the Albuquerque Trainyards one year ago. My feelings on being stalked in this way are quite clear. And, yes, this is stalking

Bex. Someplace.

If wondering why I don’t post more informative captions any longer, this is because Becky and I aren’t fond of being approached on Monday morning with parametaquasi-intimate knowledge of what we did over the weekend.

I enjoy sharing photos of our adventures (and patametaquasi-adventures) for our friends and family. The light-internet-stalking, of this I’m not a fan. I can’t be more plain.

“So, you were at the Trainyards over the weekend.”

That. I don’t like that.

Incredulity that this is stalking? It is for one very simple reason: