Thursday. Checked my email today and apparently my creepy stalker that I’ve had for years is still hanging around. So creepy and weird. Like, bro, get over it already. I’m obviously out in the world learning new things and absorbing new information, unlike you.

“What about that time you said that fucked up thing when you were really drunk?” Uh, what about it, bro? Why are you taking it so personally? Yeah, I was wrong and I apologized once I was sober. Then I deleted the fucked up shit I said because I was wrong. I’m sure you didn’t take screenshots of that part since you clearly don’t remember.

Now I’m out here in the world learning. When are you going to stop obsessing over me and do some self-examination of your own? Do you think you’re accomplishing something right now by “calling me out” on something I already apologized for? Some weird little incident that only you witnessed and have obviously held against me ever since?

It seems like you’ve been at this for a long, long, long time. Years in fact. Tell me, is your little plan to take screenshots of everything I say so you can compile it into a book for me and use it to destroy me? Wow, that sounds like so much work! I think you’ve probably made more progress on my manuscript than I have. Can I get a copy of whatever it is you’re working on over there? It seems like it’s quite dense. Tell me, do you have your own special little flash drive where you keep all your screenshots with the name “Betsey Horton Revenge?”

I love it. Give me all the attention. I live for it. Hashtag celebrity. Please send me those screenshots so I can write a lengthy essay on why I was wrong and how women from SEA are exploited by Passport Bros. I’m here in SEA watching it happen live in real time now. I’m learning. That’s what we do when we’re wrong. We course correct, learn new information, and adjust our world view accordingly. Well, at least that’s how I was raised. It’s very clear to me that you were raised to see any admission of error or wrongdoing as a weakness, which is sad. It’s really an opportunity for growth and change. You can learn something new. It’s okay to be wrong. That’s how we learn.

Get over it.

ANYWAY, I swear to you this guy is probably just Andrew. I swear! I think it’s Andrew or someone close to him. That must be why this person took my comment soooooo personally. I think she was one of his many girlfriends, or maybe he wanted her to be but she was with someone else. Something happened there. That’s why he’s so hung up about it. Maybe she did hook up with him at work one time in the broom closet when they were all alone and that’s why he’s so mad!!! We could speculate all day, but I won’t.

Why do I think it’s Andrew? Mostly because I have a text message from Andrew himself that I’ve used as a writing sample to compare to some of these messages. The writing style is very similar. So, that’s really my main source of evidence. I still laugh at that text sometimes when I’m sad. I’m like, what an idiot.

I still can’t believe he handed over this handwriting sample to me so easily. Then again, why else would his phone number be written down in large numbers and left out for anyone to see on Mad Dog’s coffee table? It’s like he knew I was gonna be there that same day, so he’s like, “Where can I put this piece of paper containing very private information about myself so Betsey Horton will see it? I know, I’ll set it down, right here in the center of the room so it’s visible right when you walk in the door. There’s no way she won’t see it.”

I mean, according to Mad Dog, we are “obsessed with each other,” as in, it’s perceived by many to be a mutual thing, and not just me on my own. Apparently we secretly dated, according to all these random people? That’s new information to me. I always correct people who ask me if we were together. I’m like, “No, I’ve only talked like five times and three of them he was screaming at me, so…”

I’m just more open about the fact that I’m obsessed with him. Meanwhile he’s secretly collecting screenshots on a flash drive in a basement office somewhere. So on-brand. He does love his secrets, doesn’t he?

That’s just my theory. It could also be some random Internet crackpot. I don’t think so. It feels way more personal than that. This is definitely someone who knows me IRL.

God knows. Stop using fake names like the coward you are and show yourself. If you hate me so much, come out from behind the fake ghost accounts and show yourself. You’ve clearly been following me for a long time. I like to know my fans. Show yourself. Hashtag Meet and Greet!

You won’t. Why? Because whoever you are, you are a coward. That’s why you need to hide behind a fake account while spewing your hatred towards me. It’s honestly pathetic. At least I own what I say. I put my name and my picture up. I admit when I’m wrong. I take accountability for the words I say. And you are just some sad little troll who hides away in a basement, stewing in your negativity and hatred. Sad!

Okay, you got my attention today. Good for you. I’m throwing you a bone with this blog post to say, “I see you. I hear you. I was wrong. You were right. I’m sorry. You can get over it now.”

Anyway, I’m going to watch a special feature on AJE about textile graveyards now. This is where I want to be buried. Just dump me off in this desert in Chile. Ugh. It’s so horrific to watch. It’s just sick. I’m part of the problem. But also… I love textiles. Please just bury me with them.

Textile recycling is really becoming a special interest of mine. Sustainability in general. I’ve been watching the way trash and recycling works in Thailand. There’s way more of a concerted effort here to control that situation.

Now I’m watching a feature on data collection and privacy. Ugh. I wonder if my stalker has access to all my data? It must not be enough for him if he’s got my whole database and all my blog posts and all the screenshots from my long-dead Twitter account, and he’s still gotta write these dumb troll posts to me. Ridiculous. Show yourself, fool. Come out from behind the screen and show me your face.

Anyway, I started researching Cambodia tourism but not Vietnam. I have not even been paying attention to this Thailand-Cambodia conflict. I live in a bubble. It’s not even a thing here. I have a dozen hours of research to do before I can even look at flights or hotels.

Well, all of this is very depressing. I’m off now. I need to get my apartment ready for the housekeeper. Ta ta.