It's impossible for me to look at this journal without thinking of the charming and unfortunate events pertaining to its existence which transpired this past week. To fill you in, in case you already didn't know...
This little blog is not only for my friends, but also for my family. And, as you are aware, dear reader, it is open to the comments of any and all. I don't want to make it a friends-only journal since many of the people who comment aren't LJ users. But this also means that Joe Pedestrian can waltz up to my page and leave his thoughts on the margin. And generally, I don't care what Joe has to say.
But then there was the ... personality ... of Mr. A.
I always assumed that Mr. A was a friend of mine masquerading as "internet loser." The threats were always too clever to be coming from a real moron; I cite "give you cancer" as one of the lines that made me laugh and were too brainy to come from a 16-year-old in south carolina. But there were some readers who weren't into it: Sophie wasn't laughing, and neither were my parents. I have very loving and involved parents, even now as I near my mid-twenties, and they're always prone to a little over-reacting when they think their dear daughter might be in trouble.
So, I posted a little cease and desist to Mr. A -- whose entries had escalated to threats -- after getting concerned phone calls from the states. My parents said I should get a bodyguard and call the police. I thought I should just tell whoever it was to stop, since my mom and dad were not smiling.
Unfortunately, Mr. A -- still thinking all was a friendly joke, (and with good reason) -- threatened my already on the edge father. And my father? He did like any good father would do. Err ... at least, he did what any father would do in a movie:
He called the FBI.
The clock was racing and I had to find out if Mr A was truly a friend, and quick. As the FBI zeroed in on the IP address of Mr. A, I called Los Angeles, and due to serendipity, discovered that Mr A was indeed a friend of mine from college, playing the role of internet psycho. A couple of phone calls (and a lot of convincing later), the FBI were no longer tracing my journal, and all was well. Sort of. It still feels weird to type anything here.
What have I learned? Well, for one thing, neither side knew when to back down. Did my dad overreact? Maybe. But I had already asked Mr. A not to post so gratuitously. Of course, this being a joke, he didn't realize the predicament I was being sandwiched in. I can see where both sides came from, and don't fault either of them for what was just subjective judgment calls.
I'm glad Josh knew who it was. And no, it wasn't Luke Hatton. But that's funny, too.
In Boom news, I'm kinda pissed off cause I'm not in any home shows lately, and then I get really shorthanded when I *am* in the shows. That will change soon. Suzi and I are writing a 2 person show, and we just spent all night fighting when I tried to set her up with an audience member. Looks like everyone is prone to a little bad judgement these days.
Here's a picture from Halloween!
