Highlights of the Week

Okay, more like lowlights…but I’m trying to be upbeat…

On Tuesday, I discovered that I had an internet stalker. And believe me…this woman was scary enough to warrant a call to the sheriff’s department.

I met “Janet” through YouTube. She’d subscribed to my channel and–primarily because I was curious–I looked at her channel. Janet had favorited a video I liked and a couple more that I wanted to see, so I thought it might be interesting to strike up a conversation with her. Eventually, it led to a Facebook friendship and talking through Facebook chat.

Midway through last week (I don’t remember whether it was the first or second night of our chatting), Janet admitted to me that she wasn’t very close to her family anymore and that she didn’t really have any friends. It also sounded like she moved into the country and gave up her career in [city expurgated] to get away from people (except for her clients, after she began to work out of her home). Maybe if she hadn’t confessed all that, she wouldn’t have seemed triply creepy when she suggested that I change the main character of my novel and her husband to brother and sister. (I pointed out that quite a few people would feel that Haniya and Anthony’s marriage would seem taboo enough because of their age difference and she agreed.)

I made the mistake of calling her mentally ill. When Janet asked why I had removed her as a Facebook friend, I should have just stayed low and disappeared off the map. But instead, I told her exactly why I was leaving (curse my bluntness!) and proceeded to antagonize her when she wouldn’t leave me alone.

After getting rid of her on YouTube and Facebook, Janet sent me a derogatory tweet on Twitter. At least, I think it was supposed to be derogatory…it was so cryptic/incomprehensible, I couldn’t honestly tell! (I won’t repeat it here.) My response?

At least I have a family and friends who love me–I didn’t quit my job and move away from civilization because I can’t tolerate humanity. They write books about people like you, you know…I probably saw your ugly mug in my abnormal psychology textbook and didn’t even realize it.

BTW: I *do* “live in the world” of my novel, and when I finish it, I’ll move on and set up shop in the next one. That’s how writing works. But since you didn’t even finish high school, you’re too dumb to know how to even spell your own name!

I blocked her and I thought that was the end of it.

But it wasn’t. It never is, when you’re dealing with crazies like Janet…

Tuesday was the day Janet tracked me down on IMDb. Since we’d had no contact on there at any time during our brief friendship, all I can figure is that Janet spent the four intervening days looking for me on various search engines and trying to determine the best way to reach me. (See what I mean? This woman is all SORTS of crazy!)

Again, I won’t foul this space with her words. But I will tell you that Janet posted this “rant” (if you will) on a thread on Val’s page; so it was something to the effect of me supposedly wanting to have sex with him, her (sarcastic) “understanding why so many celebrities would want to jump in your bed, you’re so beautiful”, etc. She admitted that the only reason she kept listening as I filled her in on my novel was because she was hoping for another sex scene. She said something about me calling her mentally ill, but she’d seen into the mind of a “thirteen-year-old fangirl or crazyfan or whatever” (and I have no idea where she was going with that, because parts of her rant were as incomprehensible as the aforementioned tweet.) She also mentioned reading “Zango or whatever” (Xanga, obviously…hence the need for a new blog), making me think that she was getting more stalking/mockery fuel from my blog.

Let’s take this bit by bit, shall we?

  1. I never said anything about wanting to sleep with Val. Janet has no idea who the fuck Val is…how the hell does she get off assuming I want to sleep with him?! (She admits at the top of the post that she doesn’t know who he is…but apparently, because I posted on his message board, I’m “interested” in him.) I’ll be brutally honest: she’s about ten years too late on that one. I stopped being sexually interested in Val before I graduated high school.
  2. On that note, I never said anything about wanting to sleep with Jamie. Apparently, admitting my novel is a Roman á clef and telling her that Haniya and Anthony are myself and Jamie is an implicit admission that I want to sleep with him. Were that true, then you could say I want to sleep with everyone I have having sex with my main characters, such as KC–despite the fact that KC’s character raped mine repeatedly in Bound. (I have no interest in KC. YUCK!)
  3. I definitely never said I wanted to sleep with “lots of celebrities”. I’m not Heidi Fleiss or any other madam, so why would I whore around Hollywood like that?
  4. I told her how old I was…where does she get off calling me thirteen? If that was an insult, then why did she follow it up with “fangirl”?

But all of that doesn’t matter. What matters is that Janet is sick enough to waste her time hunting me down so that she can trash my reputation and make me look like a thirteen-year-old whore with mental problems of my own. Maybe she was trying to get the last word in and it was going to end right there…I don’t pretend to know. I don’t know what she replied after I said that I was going to contact the sheriff’s department, because I blocked her as soon as I reported her post to the administrators. (I checked earlier to see if the administrators had removed her post and saw that she’d removed it herself and said something in response, but–again–I don’t know what. And I don’t care enough to torture myself by unblocking her to see what she said. Janet is mentally ill and needs help…and I hope to Goddess she gets it, so that she doesn’t torture anyone else.)

I didn’t wait ’til morning–I called the sheriff’s department and a deputy called me back about an hour later. He said there was nothing they could do unless Janet actually said something like, “I’m going to kill you” and then actually came up here to act on it. At his advice, I changed my username on Twitter and IMDb and registered this new blog. (I can’t change my username on Facebook, though and I didn’t give her my email address, so I think I’m safe there.)

Hopefully, this really is the end.


 

As if dealing with Janet wasn’t enough, yesterday (Wednesday), someone on Facebook made me out to be a cat killer.

One of my friends had joined an event called something like “Black Cat Appreciation Day”. I joined too, said that I missed Rhiannon, and–after receiving some sympathy–told how she died in a dishwasher fire. I also mentioned that Abby had survived, but had such a large amount of smoke inhalation that the veterinarian had recommended euthanizing her, saying that the following winter would probably cause her to catch pneumonia and die anyway.

This girl (or woman…probably girl, with the atrocious grammar/spelling), (I don’t remember her name, so let’s call her “Tammy”) responds back with something like, “No disrespect, but did you say you euthanized her because she MIGHT catch pneumonia? Or did she already HAVE pneumonia? I’m confused…”

Now I’m really good at reading people’s emotions behind their emails, instant messages and internet posts. I rarely get it wrong. So when I felt that Tammy was all but screaming “CAT KILLER! CAT KILLER!” by the tone of her post, I jumped down her throat for it.

I pointed out that Abby was 10-12 years old at the time, so her age was probably working against her when the vet made the recommendation. There was also a cold snap the following week and–being mid-March in Michigan–that meant snow on the ground once again. So that’s all she probably would’ve survived: a week. I ripped into Tammy for (probably) not being a vet (and therefore being unjustified in her assumptions/attitude), not having the care of Abby since kittenhood and therefore having no idea of her health history or what kind of condition she was in after the firemen rescued her. I also said that I had gone to a doctor’s appointment earlier in the day in an attempt to return to normalcy (the death of Rhiannon was kicking my ass) and by the time I arrived at my mother’s house, she had already made the decision to euthanize Abby. I told Tammy that she shouldn’t blame me for my mother’s decisions and if she wanted to call anyone a cat murderer, I would be happy to point her in the direction of my mother’s Facebook page.

I don’t know how Tammy felt about that, because by the time I logged onto Facebook today, the post had been deleted.

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