I've been down for the count with a kidney infection this week. I mention this both to get sympathy, because I never gave people enough sympathy who had kidney infections and in fact I've never been that sick and in pain my whole life, and to sort of gloss over the point I'm about to make, notably that I LOST AN E-MAIL. I would have probably posted anyway about it, but now I sort of have to because it's LOST.
I don't know how I even did that. If I wanted to remove all traces of an e-mail from Gmail, I don't think I could. You can always find an e-mail. They lurk in spam or trash or somewhere in an old dusty corner. Yet, Norco and sleep deprivation allowed what normally cannot be done. Fortunately, I can reconstruct it because it came in the middle of the night when I was trying to suffer quietly and not wake up my irritatingly soundly sleeping boyfriend, so I spent a lot of time trying to to figure out what the hell it was about.
The e-mail was from a dude named Scott Henderson and said something very near to "My wife is dying from lymphoma as a nurse I would appreciate it if you would take down her name from your website."
Obviously I was first stuck on the grammar. She's dying as a nurse from lymphoma? Does that matter? Or, he, as a nurse, would appreciate it if I removed her name? Or did he mean that because I'm a nurse I should do him a favor?
Then I got caught up in ethics. If you're an asshole, do you stop being one just because you get really sick (I finally arrived at "no," on grounds that we ALL know we're going to die of something, odds are it will involve being sick first, and we're still assholes on a regular basis)?
On then did I wonder who the hell he was talking about. Normally you'd include whose name you wanted taken down. This necessitated a search of the entire blog for "Henderson," and I came across the crazy dog food lady again. If you, like me, have totally forgotten her trollery and dedication, see this recap.
Tanja, I'm sorry you're dying of lymphoma, and I actually feel even worse for you because I can only assume that you were such a dick to so many people that you've set your noble husband, Scott, on the task of e-mailing ALL THOSE PEOPLE and asking them to take your name down so you won't be remembered as the crazy dog food lady.
However, given that you were just freaking creepy (I mean, digging up my divorce license, accusing my ex-husband of rape, and "contacting the authorities" is right next to creepy in the Blog Troll Handbook I assume you penned, with, I hope, better and clearer grammar than your husband uses) and went to so much trouble to threaten me, I decline to polish up your memory. Claim it, sister. Say it after me: "I was a blog stalker."