Helena has a job. Today was Helena's first day. Helena enjoyed herself immensely. Well... as much as one CAN enjoy oneself at a job where one still has no idea what they're doing; that's generally the way first days go.
I made a decision today, while talking to my new co-worker at lunchtime. I've decided not to talk about work in this journal, at least not by name. The most I will say is that I work in retail, within quasi-reasonable walking distance from my apartment. (That is, it's reasonable by my standards; by Seattle standards, where people believe you have to take a bus to get to your destination a block away, it is not reasonable walking distance...)
I've come to the conclusion that I'm too easily "stalkable." I trust the majority of my readers, I think, but new people show up here weekly, and an online friend informed me the other day that, by knowing my first name and the town where I live, he found my address. I don't think he found the CORRECT address, because the phone number here isn't listed in my name, and I've only lived here for three weeks. But STILL... I'm now far too aware of the fact that I could be in some potential danger, just by giving out some of the bare facts.
Okay, so somebody's reading my journal and they find out I'm from Binghamton, New York. If that person knows my first name, they can find one of my old addresses, plus my last name. They're not going to get anywhere by checking out my old addresses, and they're not going to get anywhere by checking out other people in town with my last name, because only one of my relatives with my last name knows my address and phone number, and isn't giving it out. But if this person knows my full name AND my place of employment... voila! One potential stalker who could follow me home from work.
That fucking scares me.
And you know what else scares me? The fact that I was accused, in my guestbook, of stealing from Java Joe's. Of course, I never did, unless you count the white plate Meg gave me, and the teapot in 1997, which I WOULD give back if the owners made a big fuss about it. (They'd have to make a pretty big fuss though; I LOVE that teapot. I'd probably give them five bucks and tell them to buy a new one...) Now what the hell would I do if somebody accused me of stealing from my new place of employment? The managers don't know me all that well, and I have NO intention of having my life and my job screwed up because ONE person might decide to be an asshole.
I can't prove anything about that so-called "stalker," but I DO know who it isn't. And THOSE people shall be the ones who know where I work. THOSE are the people who will receive my new phone number and address.
It's not that I don't trust anyone. It's just that there ARE people who aren't trustworthy. And I've been way too lax, and I've opened myself up to a lot of danger. Although I don't think anybody's, like, WATCHING me, and I haven't caught anybody suspicious driving by my house at odd hours, that doesn't mean it'll never happen. I've been TOO trusting, and that's going to end. It's going to end today, my first day of work at my new job, a retail gig sort of near my house.
If you want to know information about me, other than stuff about dead pigeons and coffeehouses and music and friends, you're going to have to email me. You're going to have to tell me YOUR name and where YOU live. If you want to know my real name -- well, hell, most of you probably do anyway... nevermind. Basically, Wet Cleanup's going to stay the same as it is, but it's going to be a little more careful. And if you need more than that, then it's on a "you show me yours, I'll show you mine" basis.
["Safety first..." --Brian]
~Helena*