This may look like a cartoon, but this is no joke. I mean business. I'm sick of people out in the world thinking they can abuse bloggers and THINK they can get away with it. Read on....and see that your "mouse" is gonna be trapped starting NOW.

Dear Ethers, 

My good friend Wildernesschic has a brilliant blog that I enjoy reading tremendously.  I like it because it’s written from the heart.  You never feel like she has a thesaurus sitting on her lap while she’s writing, her stories never cease to fascinate, and she writes with humor and wit that are honest and organic.  She’s also extremely supportive of other bloggers, never failing to visit sites leaving well thought out comments and taking an interest in the world of the blogosphere.   She’s a reliable source, in my opinion, on blogging.  

A few days ago she posted an entry called “What Is A Blog?”  It fascinated me.  Again, she wrote straight from the soul and really begged the question about what we bloggers are doing every time we hit that very scary publish button.  She mentions that her blog is her “…own Hyde Park Corner.  Where I can express my freedom of speech.”  I agree completely.  She, unlike myself, is NOT an anonymous blogger.  Every single time she puts out a post she is risking her neck.  Her friends and family read everything she writes—her name is completely exposed to the public. 

Recently, she received a barrage of E-mails that were abusive and hurtful about her writing.  Obviously I don’t know the intimate details, but I do know that she has taken down a certain post that she feels might have hurt someone’s feelings and feels more guarded with her special part of her “Hyde Park Corner.”  I think this is completely unacceptable.  I too have received hurtful E-mails and comments from people about my blog.  I’m not going to indulge these abusers by telling you the details, but they attack below the belt and use ones own words to be vicious and malicious.  I have since blocked them from access to my website, but I wonder, why do people feel the need to be so angry with a blogger when all we are doing is expressing our experience and our memories?  I can understand disagreeing with a point of view, but I cannot understand abuse.  If you have an issue, it is perfectly acceptable to leave a comment asking questions about the post and, indeed disagreeing with the bloggers point of view.  But to hurl abuse and to ensue fear into someone’s life is abhorrent. 

I don’t see the blogosphere’s manners as any different than the normal manners of society.  Just as you cannot harass someone or verbally abuse them or stalk them on the streets, you cannot do so on their blog.  There are ways of finding out who you are, for those of you who DO take advantage of the vulnerability of bloggers.  You are easy to track and it is illegal to leave a torrent of insults.  You can be arrested.  You are no different than a stalker.  You have to remember there is a huge difference between freedom of speech and threatening people.  Tread carefully.  Is it really worth it?  At the end of the day we are just people who take the time to write about our lives, our interests and our views.  If you disagree or have any gripes—-either leave a calm mannered comment that will allow a fair debate or walk away if you don’t think you can control yourself.  Think of it as hitting someone.  You wouldn’t just beat someone up if they said the wrong thing would you?  You’d take a deep breath and either walk or talk. Well, at least one would hope. 

I will be seeking anyone out who hurls abuse at me, WILL trace you through your internet provider and WILL call the authorities.  I have spoken to the police and they have said that this IS a crime and people HAVE been arrested.  I will not be censored or threatened.  I will write what I want without fear.  And so should every blogger.  I warn you again, tread lightly, because you will be caught and you’ll be eating YOUR words hopefully without ever hurting anyone else again.   

Dedicatedly yours,

—One of 365

I'm not going to say much, because it'll ruin the story. But see this girl. She looks somewhat surprised, but not in a "I'm going to kill myself because someone shaved off all of my hair" kinda way. Well. This photo could have been me....but with a VERY different expression on ol' One of 365's face. Seriously---don't ever fuck with my hair.

Dear Ethers, 

OH MY GOD.  I have the CRAZIEST story to tell you.  Right.  So, you know how I’m always going on about my hair and its length.  I mean, by this time you know the diameter of each follicle.  But you also know how much I treasure it.  I swore the only way I would ever cut my hair is if I became destitute and it was the last thing I had to pawn to eat that night. 

So, I had straightened my hair for an event and had been wearing it down because I usually don’t take much care to make a fuss over it (you know, tying it in a messy bun etc…) and wanted to work my “do.”  I’m walking down the street and this woman comes up to me and says, “You have the most beautiful hair.”  Well, of course I was pleased and thanked her very much.  But she went on.  “Is that your natural color?”  I politely responded, “Yes, it’s my own.”  “So you don’t use any dyes at all?” Okay, now not only was I getting annoyed, but I was getting weirded out.  I said, “Look, I’m real busy…” and she cut me off and started telling me that she worked for this charity called “Locks of Love” and they were really desperate for donors because all of the salon owners were paying a fortune to girls and it was the recession. 

Now, I’m not saying I’m the most benevolent person in the world, but I do give to certain charities.  But they are ones that I choose and that I approach.  I make it a policy NEVER to give to charities on streets or on the phone.  I like to do my research on the net and donate via e-mail.  But regardless, where was this woman’s badge?  Who the hell was she?  And I’m sure “Locks of Love” didn’t have a bombard you policy that freaked young women out on the street.  

I calmly told her that I had no intention of cutting my hair and that I would appreciate her leaving me alone as I felt this was very inappropriate.  Now, a normal person would walk away.  Oh no, this lady got PISSED.  “Don’t you care about kids with cancer?  Women who’ve been burned and lost parts of their scalp?”  Did I mention I’m standing on a street where there were cafes and people were staring at us?  I just started walking away—but she followed.  I started to reach for my cell phone and my keys. 

And then I felt a tug. 

My whole body went numb and I swear to god for a second I thought she took out shears and lopped my hair off. 

I spun around and screamed at her to never fucking touch me again and that I was dialing 911.  I’ve never seen a skinny woman with a bob-cut run so fast in my whole life. 

When I got home I called “Locks of Love” and told them my story.  And Ethers, I’m not joking (and you might think I’m a pussy) I was crying.  I think they were afraid I was going to sue for assault charges.  But the truth is I didn’t have the woman’s name and they said they have so many volunteers that even with my description of her, it was hopeless. 

I think “Locks of Love” do a wonderful thing and I do not want to incriminate them for one woman’s insane breakdown.  But I have to tell you that I will never forget that moment.  I did wonder if that woman was really from “Locks of Love” because they told me that dyed hair WAS acceptable though bleached wasn’t.  And if the lady had cut my hair without it being in a braid or ponytail first she would have done it for nothing—they can’t accept it loose.  Oh and FYI, if you ever DO want to donate, your hair needs to be 10” tip-tip minimum (and they do request it to be clean, thank you very much).  

Later that night I took a shower, used my special Kerastase shampoo that I pull out for special occasions and my Redkin conditioner that is for VERY special moments, and lathered up grateful for something to still be attached to my head.  My waves re-appeared, and as my hair dried, up it went into its lazy bun happy to be protected.  I was just so happy to have given my OWN locks some love that night when it all could have been snipped away by some nutter with a bad bowl cut.  Sheesh.  Only in L.A. 

Dedicatedly yours,

—One of 365