You know, if it's not the asshat reading my blog in Chicago, then I think I have a serious e-stalker. Who reads someone's blog for 2 hours? Christ, I didn't even realize I had 30 pages to view.

Honestly, Chicago person, I am really not that interesting. You should try reading a book.

Anonymous Idiots

I received this interesting yet insulting e-mail in my inbox today:

Hi, I sometimes read your writings because my 34 year old son seems to be fascinated with your ramblings. For him, you're a typical example of what is out there and why it is so difficult to meet a decent woman. As far as I'm concerned, I have difficulty believing that you're not spoofing an imaginary life.

Now, if you are serious, you may want to stop thinking only of yourself and wonder how can you be helpful in some way. You would need a reality check. Even Prince William of England worked in construction in Latin America helping to build for the poor. Another positive example is Angelina Jolie. I don't think she sits around worrying about her latest wrinkle or fancy shoes. There are loads of places which could use volunteers and it could be very illuminating for you to try to helpful. Totally self-absorbed people are never happy and material purchases only bring a temporary thrill. You need to remember that one cannot be buried with money, but good deeds live on in others.

Jill Bauer is a very down to earth, unpretentious person who picks topics of general interest and writes well. She deserved to get the Herald job.

I wish you well.

Of course, I had to respond, even though I have no idea who this Jill Bauer person is.

Well,
Anonymous Judith. If you don't like me, don't read. FYI, I do contribute generously to charitable organizations.

Many people find my so-called ramblings helpful, as I deal not only with superficial issues of shopping, etc. but serious issues such as self-esteem issues, therapy and depression that affect millions of people.

And FYI, those who know the "real" me—for my blog is not an imaginary life, but a satirical artistic endeavor—would be the first to tell you that I am a loyal, generous, thoughtful, kind, funny and warm friend and family member.

So like I said, you don't like me, don't read me. Go read your friend's column in what is arguably the worst newspaper in any major metropolitan area. And your son would be lucky to have a smart, creative, sophisticated, well-educated, talented and generous woman such as myself. If he can't find the right woman at 34 years old, perhaps it's time for him to be "self-absorbed" and think about what he is doing wrong. And perhaps it's time for you to examine why you think you are the bigger person while simultaneously insulting someone you don't know.

Ta-da. What, Judith, you think a writer won't have the last word? And, Jesus, do I feel sorry for your son.