A Raging Mystery

There are so many things I don't know. I am a naturally curious (and some might say suspicious) person. The mysteries of life coupled with my own self-sabotaged spotty education (why didn't I pay attenion in Geography class!?) make an unbelievably long list of things I still need to Google. Since I tend to squander my time watching cat videos on Tiktok, I'm nowhere near meeting my own learning expectations. 

Then there are the serious mysteries that cannot be solved. These are the ones that plague my mind and cause me to switch back and forth between rage and anxiety. This includes things like (bulleting this list since I've been writing a lot of business communications lately): 

• Why my brakes have been squeaking ever since the car people put in new brake pads in January
• Why the Xfinity app tells me my internet speeds are exceptional then all our devices freeze
• What kind of creature knocked over our St. Francis of Assisi mini-statue every day until one day his head fell off (he is still down, that was a serious injury)
• Why is cooking so hard for some people (not saying who... just some people)
• What any of our neighbors' names are (this one doesn't make me rage, but it is a true mystery)

Then there is the greatest ongoing mystery of all. This is the stuff of true crime podcasts. 

It all started in 2017. I was in the middle of doing something incredibly productive (I can't remember exactly what right now, but I'm sure it was impressive) when I got a email notification on my phone. "Confirm your email to complete your account setup." It was from Pandora. I felt momentarily confused. I already had a Pandora account. And after thinking about it, I remembered it was set up through my alternate email address I use for spam-worthy things. Was someone hacking me? Were they in my email at that moment? I changed my email password (which was a feat since I can never remember what it actually is) and felt suspicious all day. The next day I started getting Pandora emails about my stations. So somehow my account was verified. Another round of password changes and all-day paranoia. 

Weeks go by, then another email arrived. Spotify. Thanks for signing up for a free trial. Since I was older and wiser then, I had a plan (inspired by a Google search). Go to Spotify, say forgot password. They emailed me a link. I changed the password and deactivated the account. Bam. I'm amazing at fighting cybercrime. 

Days later, another Spotify account popped up. Same drill. It became a cat and mouse game at that point, or maybe more like Whack-a-Mole. Predictably, after a few times through this cycle, I got distracted for days before I remembered it was my turn to move. When I got into the account, there were playlists set up (full of Ariana Grande). And unbelievably, there was a birthday and location entered. 

Birthyear: 2005. Location: Lancaster, PA. A 12-year-old. 

I might be remembering wrong, but I think there was a name in there too. Lauren? Alisha? Whatever it was, it was not my name. I deleted her account and probably ruined her day. 

After I had these critical pieces of her identity, my mind started to formulate theories. She was too young to have her own email address. She was Amish and using the computer at the public library. She was not allowed to listen to music at home and had to secretly sign up for free listening experiences. Was her name also Lily and she was putting her email address in wrong because she was new to technology (seemed unlikely because the whole Lauren/Alisha thing)? 

No answers ever came. 

But more emails arrived. Many more, in fact. 

Thank you for shopping at the Tanger Outlets Lancaster. Welcome! Thanks for registering for LNP Lancaster Online. Random companies sending me emails about athletic gear. Some pajama place thanking me for my order. Years of this. 

Sometimes when a new account was set up, I tried to email the place and ask them to shut it down, like when there was a McDonalds ordering account. Most times that was a headache because people didn't understand that I hadn't actually been hacked, it was just that someone else was using me as their spam toilet. So, I just let is slide. I also felt mildly entertained watching this girl's life and habits through random spam emails (Oh look, she must be on vacation in Virginia...) 

You might be asking yourself why I've never just closed this email account and started a new one. It's because I am overly loyal to stupid things. This has been my email for about 18 years and I have like 500,000+ (I'm estimating since I'm too lazy to actually look) emails in there. I am a memory hoarder. 

Back to my story.

This year, guess what started to come? College emails. But here is where it gets more confusing. The greeting always includes the name Lily. The colleges are in or around Pennsylvania. She is also apparently an exceptional student. Wait..what is happening? Do they tell everyone they are an exceptional student, even if they are emailing this to a 40-something who held a steady C-average from Kindergarten through college graduation?

University of Pittsburgh. The College of Wooster. Robert Morris University. West Chester University. More and more. Since these emails have gotten somewhat overwhelming, I started to go in and unsubscribe to them. Then I had an irrational wave of guilt. What if I'm ruining her future by cutting off the email communications to these colleges? Wait, that's not possible. She can't get in my email. But still, what if...

See what happened there? Somewhere along the way, I started cheering for her. You can do this, former 12-year-old Ariana Grande fan with an unknown name. Do something good with your future. Pay attention in Geography class. Don't start sending me emails about title loans or solutions for suspicious rashes. 

I suppose I can write this off as a modern-day version of an 80s prank call. You know where you randomly dialed a number then the person was so entertaining you keep calling them back and harrassing them for weeks (Don't judge me for this. Remember what I said about the C-average).

But... IS THERE NO WAY TO SOLVE THIS MYSTERY!? (See, I've shifted back to rage here.)