Click on through to the other side

I am so proud of myself. Really. I am.

If I had a chocolate cupcake in front of me right now, I'd stuff a candle in it and sing to myself. That's how proud I am.

Scott told me nine and a half days ago that his ex-wife's sister friended him on MySpace. His ex-wife is now three clicks away from me, and I can find out who she is and what she looks like.

I have known this for nine and half days and I have yet to click on through.*

If I was being really honest though, I would say fear is the overwhelming factor here, not self-restraint. Because Scott never shies away from saying how beautiful she is. "100 pounds, soaking wet," he'd say. "I only got with her because she had a nice ass," he'd say.

"I used to be into looks, but now I'm just into you," he'd say.**



*And to anyone who has access to my MySpace: please don't stalk for me and report back. Actually, stalk all you want, just don't tell me. I'm doing really well right now, taming the jealous beast.

**To be fair, after wailing and gnashing of teeth, he backtracked clarified the statement using such phrases as "but you're so much smarter" and "total package," and finally, "yes, your ass is nicer."