Panic, and Big Brother

Here I sit, listening to my lovely Ben Folds on a Sunday afternoon. I look out our sliding doors to the balcony and I can see the gorgeous cliff of Blomidon, and I notice that the tide is in, blue and sparkly. It makes me miss the summertime.

My Scotland interview is approaching very quickly, and somehow I still have my fingernails; they have not been reduced to the uneven, scratchy, pinkish quick. I am not nervous at all, and I am wondering what the hell has happened to me. An interview would have sent me into a panic a couple of years ago. hmmmph

I am wondering how much people can find out about a person using the internet. Is big brother watching? I wonder if people can find out your ip address and then follow you to all the sites you visit. I am uber paranoid these days due to old ghosts. I wonder how long this little haven will remain a hidden garden.