Days

The days are filled with terror. Problems piled up so high.

Panic sets in, as soon as the birds start chirping.

Sleepless nights, filled with anguish.

Nothing solved from day-to-day, constantly being turned away.

No one has answers and no one seems to care, absolving themselves of any and all responsibility.

Reliability is rare, it cannot be depended on.

Seemingly, everything is rare, and nothing can truly be trusted.

Pain is a constant, from head to toe.

But there’s no one there to listen, because they’ve all made it clear they don’t care.

The sound is overwhelming, discovering the noise is all within my mind.

These days don’t get better, and I just drift away…

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Unpreachable

(Author’s Note: Happy Canada Day!)

I don’t like being preached to. I’m sure most of us don’t. By “preach”, I mean someone on their high horse with an agenda who is an absolute know-it-all and doesn’t know when to stop.

Initially I let it slide because it wasn’t a daily diet, but now… It’s gotten so bad that I’ve nearly said “Enough!” and “Shut the fuck up!” multiple times within a few days, as if I’m a cast member on The Real Housewives of insert whichever city you watch. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.

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I know someone who talks to me like I am an uneducated moron (she’s one of many, but I’ll stay on topic) with the I.Q. of a donkey. I liken it to when I’m blonde and people talk to me slowly, as if I won’t catch half of what they’re saying. This changes the second I go back to being a brunette, but I digress… She has been a part of something for about eight years compared to my involvement for, oh, my ENTIRE LIFE. Call me insane, but I feel that gives me the advantage in terms of knowledge, but you know how know-it-alls are. If it’s not coming from them, it’s as if it’s never been said before. The fact that there’s mileage between us is the only reason I haven’t choked her to death. I’ve actually said “This has to stop.” repeatedly, but she doesn’t seem to be able to comprehend what I am saying.

I do not believe in getting into arguments via social media. If I have something to say, I will say it. I don’t need to hide behind my computer, tablet, or phone. I’m direct to the point of being terrifying, and I really don’t care if that bothers someone. I don’t care if you’re a friend, family member, or a fucking stranger, I am NOT going to engage with an asshole. Factoring in that this particular subject has been brought up repeatedly via phone calls, e-mail, text message, and now Facebook, I’ve HAD IT. I tried listening. I tried being kind. Hell, I repeatedly tried changing the subject. But no… The insanity is ever-present.

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And by all means, don’t preach about it to me! I have a mind of my own.

I’m not two. Even at two, I still made a lot of my own decisions. No one has ever told me what to think, how to believe, who to trust, how to view the world, etc. So please explain to me why anyone that knows me for even 20 minutes feels the need to do so?! I haven’t had a lobotomy. I am aware of what goes on in this world, but it is not my life’s work to “convince” people and bring them over to my way of thinking. I’m not a recruiter. Telling people they should think for themselves and then telling them what to think is called hypocrisy and I am many things, but a hypocrite isn’t one of them. I suspect she gets this nasty little habit from her mother. (She’s not going to read this and yes, we are related.)

We are all entitled to think the way we want to think and have our own personal beliefs. Even if you’re a moron or a douchebag, your thoughts are something no one can steal from you. I wish they would, but I stand by my word. However, I’m not going to be told I should “feel guilty” for “not doing more” to help with what she has decided is her life’s work when I know for a fact that it is not mine. I don’t need to come over to anyone else’s way of thinking if my beliefs do not coincide. Unlike the person in question, I know my limitations. I know when to say no, I know when to say enough, and I know when to say STOP.

I’ve decided that the healthiest thing to do is put some serious space between this person and I. If I allow the nuttiness to continue, the next words out of my mouth will be “Shut.The.Fuck.Up! Learn something else to talk about.” Harsh? Not if you knew this person. There is only so much I can listen to on a loop and the same topic every single day isn’t exactly a Billboard Top 100. So, I am going to ignore all e-mails, phone calls, and text messages until she buys a clue, or a vowel.

How do you deal with preachy nut jobs? Please let me know in the comments. 

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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No fucking kidding!

Self-Centered Planet

On your own self-centered planet… No time for anyone.

Believing your own words, as if they’re the complete truth.

Impressing upon others, that they’re always wrong…

Invalidating feelings that are actually dead on.

I don’t have time for nonsense. I don’t have time for bullshit.

I will not have my thoughts and feelings reduced, not by you, not by anyone.

Communication is the problem. One person cannot put forth all the effort when the other isn’t receptive.

Some people always feel the need to get the last word in, but I’m a writer. They should know I’ll finish what they think they started.

No, I don’t have time for bullshit.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Silver Linings

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At this particular point in time, I am having difficulties seeing the silver linings. Life has its ups and downs. Sometimes it’s good and sometimes it sucks. We’ve all experienced this. I’m not quite certain what to do when it’s predominantly sucky.

I work hard, but there is always a problem that arises and it’s always something I have to fix. It makes almost all aspects of life, outside of a handful of things, completely miserable, moving straight into unbearable. When does it end? 😦

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At a severe low point, I called a suicide prevention hotline. I feel absolutely no shame in admitting that. I do, however, feel incredible outrage by how I was treated by this hotline that will willingly accept my donations, and yours, but refused to so much as help me when I wasn’t very far away from my personal ledge.

The person who took my call was already on the phone with someone “in a more severe crisis”. I have no idea how she knew this other person was in a more severe situation than I was because the first thing she did was put me on hold for about 30 minutes. Let me reiterate that she never even bothered to ask me if I was all right and in a safe place before she did that. She finally comes back on the line and says that the other call is more important and I should try calling back later. She didn’t ask where my head space was, NOTHING. She spewed the call back later crap and hung up. Even if you’re short-handed, even if you’re a volunteer, that isn’t the way to treat anyone who is calling a suicide prevention line. Clearly, they’re not calling for shits and giggles, it takes courage to make that call. I hung up with my jaw wide open, feeling even more betrayed by the world. It was a gut punch. “Wow! Even the suicide prevention hotline can’t prioritize me for half a second before hanging up!” If I wanted to be treated that way, I have family for that.

Earlier this year a now former friend asked me via text message if I “needed professional help”. Instead of understanding that I was in a bad place and needed support, she ended up blowing me off and later “broke up” with me via e-mail. I thought we’d be friends a very long time, so I was understandably blown away by the dramatic behavior and inability to show compassion to another human-being. I will never name names, but I am also at that point where forgiveness is not an option. You only get one chance with me. (Other things did occur towards the end, but I will never discuss any of that because it’s private. If the other person chooses to say something, they would be wrong.)

Telling me you’re worried about me via text message doesn’t convey care or concern. It’s just words. Picking up the fucking phone and saying “I know you’re not okay. I’m here for you.” is a better way to let anyone know that you’re truly there for them.

One of the biggest issues with cell phones and tablets is that no one talks to each other or communicates properly. The other day a woman took a call in front of me from her mother. Her mother wanted to argue and she said “Lets discuss this in person. There is no need to have this conversation over the phone. I will see you in a few hours.” She repeated the same statement several times because apparently she was dealing with a stubborn parent. When she hung up she said she HATED how people misconstrue things via text, e-mail, and sometimes even over the phone. She was totally on my level, saying how she’d rather be face-to-face with certain people because that way, there’s no misunderstanding whatsoever. It was incredibly refreshing.

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I cannot speak for everyone, but I can speak for myself. If I sense that someone is going through a rough time, whether they voice it or not, they don’t have to ask me to be a good friend or family member, because I do not lack common sense. I am not the world’s most compassionate soul (I openly admit that.), and I will never win awards for my niceness (The niceness gene died at age 12.), but I am emotionally present. That’s more than I can say for a great many people in my life and those I’ve chosen to get rid of.

If you love your friends, you fight for them. Their well-being is important to you and you don’t need to be insulting in order to get your point across. The same is true for family. I come from a very large extended family, but at the end of the day, they are almost exclusively people I happen to be related to (Who are banned from future book signings and appearances. LOL.). They’re not my everyday “I’ve got your back”, “Don’t worry about it.”, “No problem, I’ll help you.” family. There’s an immense difference. I have friends and family I’d do anything for, but with the rest… I’d break out the marshmallows if they were on fire.

Ultimately, not everyone you know is a good person down to roots of their soul. If you find those that are good, don’t let them go over petty idiocy. Learn how to say “I’m sorry” when you’re wrong or when you’ve hurt someone. Learn how to admit you don’t know it all. Be yourself, be real, GROW.

Tomorrow is not guaranteed for any of us. So, I employ a “live and let live” policy. If you’re good to me, I will appreciate that and I will say so. If you’re a piece of shit to me, eventually I will make sure you know what I think of you. Or I won’t be so bothered as to waste the oxygen, that all depends on my mood.

If you’re a part of my life, I am grateful to have you in it. I keep my circle of friends close because of the value I place upon the element of friendship. I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t have true friends, and I really don’t trust women who don’t have at least 1-3 close female friends. It’s a red flag. Kind of like a man at a bar that still has a tan line where his wedding band should be, but tells you he’s single or how horrible his “soon-to-be” ex-wife is. Unless you see divorce papers, he’s full of crap and is a married man who hasn’t stopped dating.

I’m eternally appreciative that I am one of those rare people who truly doesn’t care if people like me or not. I spend no time at all wondering what others think of me as a person. Those that take the time to get to know me on a deeper level are the ones that benefit from my fierce loyalty and “ride or die” friendship. Those that burn me clearly don’t know that, like the Phoenix, I will always rise again.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Moody Musings

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I’m in an ugly mood. I think I went to bed that way, to some extent, which only partially explains my nasty mood this morning. I (almost) never lock my cats out of my bedroom, but when they started their petition to shove me out of bed around 5:00, I silently got up, put grain free food in their bowls, and as they both moved to their respective bowls, I shut my door. About an hour and a half later the little one started screeching like the world was ending. I let her back in to abate the crying and then ended up locking her out because she was trying to claw her way through me. When I haven’t slept well, there is no amount of annoying behavior that will push me out of bed. I also don’t want to yell at them because they don’t understand it and it’s traumatic for them. I simply cannot bend, touch my toes, or turn my head/neck at the moment. It’s upsetting to be in this much pain and not be able to take care of basic things, including myself.

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Injustice and abuse of power infuriate me. Alas, I don’t look good in orange, so going after a power-hungry cop, fresh out of the academy, who thinks his dick is as tall as he is, is probably NOT a good idea. With all the police issues in this country, I figure the asshole will eventually say the wrong thing to the wrong person. I have to believe there’s some kind of karmic justice at play here, and that I have to just take care of me and mine. However, factoring in that I cannot physically move and that I’m in excruciating pain, I feel like there’s some kind of evil joke at play here.

Several weeks ago, a church was firebombed in my area by someone who got early release after kidnapping two minors back in 2008. Tax dollars hard at work. <rolls eyes> Emergency responders were already in the area and able to handle the situation quickly, but $50,000 worth of damage was still done.

At the moment, there is a huge carnival going on at a different church. It usually lasts for about a week or two. Ever since it started, there have been break-ins ranging from small to large, even if people are already home and asleep. Whoever is doing it doesn’t give a shit if there are cars in the driveway, they’re still going to risk their lives for “stuff”. This is occurring not even two minutes from my neighborhood. It’s within walking distance. A woman walked into her house yesterday to find a man going through her things. She, in her infinite stupidity, asked who he was and what he was doing there! He hit her in the face and took off, but now it’s clear that it isn’t just one person. The various local police departments decided to let people know about all of this via social media. Every single person that responded said “I have dogs and guns, go for it.” I do not currently possess the strength to utilize a shotgun properly, so, God forbid, my only option would be something smaller. I highly recommend no one sneak up on me for a while.

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Are naturally perky people drinking too much coffee, on a drug I’m not aware of, or are they born that chipper? Are they simply “bright side of everything” types? I truly don’t know because I cannot relate.

95% of the time I wake up like a sleeping dragon. Unless I am able to go back to sleep or take a nap, I’m pretty unpleasant in the mornings. For quite some time I was up at 4:00 a.m. every single day. I was in bed early each night, it worked out well for me. But now I cannot seem to fall asleep and stay asleep. Being woken every morning at 5:00 a.m. is tiresome, to say the least. You’d think they were being starved, but the opposite is true. They like routine, but they were also thundering up and down the stairs after midnight. Where do they get the energy?!

Studies claim that people who wear lots of grey and blue are depressed, and people who wear bold colors are happy. Don’t we all get depressed at times? Who the hell lives the absolute perfect, trouble-free life? Even Fortune 500 CEO’s have problems, but everything is covered up beneath the shiny veneer. FYI: I wear a lot of grey and blue because they’re two of my favorite colors. I hate red, but that’s not exactly a well-kept secret.

In simple terms, I feel moody as hell today. I’m pretty sure it’s a 50/50 toss-up between life and…life. I am trying to pull myself together to run errands and not commit any murders today. As an introverted extrovert, this means headphones are going to be my best friend today.

I hope everyone has a calm, pleasant weekend to look forward to. Keep cool, don’t get too much sun, and remember to reapply sunscreen every 80 minutes, even if it’s cloudy out and you haven’t been sweating. Sun damage and sunburn(s) are things no one wants to deal with.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Emerging From The Cave

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I woke up from a dream this morning that could have doubled as the weirdest movie EVER. Or a book. In fact, I’ll be writing it down later since my dreams revert back to a clearer picture within a certain amount of time. Rule #1- Never share your writing ideas.

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I’m exceptionally exhausted and in an extraordinary amount of pain. I was up late working for a client last night. I then referred her to a graphic designer, that way her product will look professional. If anyone is in need of a professional graphic designer for any number of things (banners, book covers, etc.), please let me know and I will put you in contact with her. She’s worked for Harper’s Bazaar and Disney and has been in business for 25 years. She knows her shit and can work with ANY budget. Plus, if I am going to pass business on to anyone, it’s going to be someone who I know needs the work.

All I really want is a nap. Unfortunately, I know full well that a “nap” will lead to me screwing up my sleep patterns. The storms that passed through my area last night knocked power out for a lot of people. As hideous as the sky looked, making me believe it would be an intense summer storm, there was merely some “scary to watch” lightning, a sprinkle of rain, and later on, a truly stunning sunset. If there was anything else, I missed it in between making dinner, decompressing for two hours, and then going back to work before bed (NOT a wise decision! The last thought I had was “Did she spell chili wrong on the product label!”). I’m running on fumes today, looking forward to the moment when it’s acceptable for me to simply fall into my bed.

My pain levels are off-the-charts insane. I am certain there’s a rod in my spine, that my right hip is disintegrating, and that my attitude matches how I feel. Being in pain 24/7, with no reprieve, is a challenge unto itself. If anyone would like to take it off my hands for a few weeks, I’d be happy to help you understand how real Fibromyalgia is. I am so sick of people saying that sufferers are “lazy” or “Doctors say it’s a fake disease.” I’ve got two words for that. Yes, those are the words.

I should be placed inside an insulated cave with running water, electricity, and WiFi. We’ll slap a label on me that says “Not fit for human consumption”, and I don’t mean that in a Hannibal-esque way at all.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Let Me Know When It’s My Turn

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It’s mildly interesting to me that the majority of people don’t care how much they bitch to others. They can complain about the same thing every single day for 8-12 hours, but God forbid you want to interject with a thought. Suddenly you’re “the enemy” who has interrupted the flow of kvetching. (Please refer to Yiddish phrases. Contact me ONLY if you do not understand its true meaning.)

In reality, you’re simply tired of hearing the whining. You’ve contemplated 60 different ways to kill a person using office supplies and/or electronic devices at your disposal. I always think it’s exceptionally safe that people cannot see me on the phone when I am listening to them drone on for hours about nonsensical shit that means nothing to me. I’m not completely heartless (I had it checked), but if the last 20 conversations centered around one topic and one topic alone, I have probably thought about how bad Q-tip damage to the ear really is. I’m a great listener, but I am not known for my patience or tolerance for bullshit. Simply put, I don’t have the head for it.

On occasion, I would like for someone to listen to me and truly hear what I have to say. So by all means, let me know when it’s my turn! In the meantime, I need a nap. 😦

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Professional Headaches

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I am not known for my patience. If you’re not a child or a “little” (“Hello littles!” That’s how I talk to animals.), my tolerance for you is probably slim to none. God help you if slim leaves town.

People’s expectations are unreasonable, especially when I am given work that requires hours and hours of face time. There are only so many hours in a day. You can only write “rewrite” and “revise” so many times in a day. You can only make so many corrections that are crucial to the development of a story, and point out major errors before you slowly start to lose your mind. And when you do, if you’re like me, you take a few days to breathe. Unless I’m on a tight deadline, I am going to include some self-care in the mix, or I’ll kill the clients and no one wants that…or do they?

You ignore the “Is it done yet?” questions that have about as much impact as on you as “Are we there yet?” You try not to say what you really think and feel. You wait a few days and then you respond as professionally as humanly possible, but how many times do you really need to say “Please, let me work. This is way more than what I signed on for.” to the same person? How many times do you have to repeat yourself about how they should have read their work in advance of sending it to you? Yet, perhaps it’s nerves, impatience, what have you, but it is fucking annoying to constantly be asked the same damn questions. I’m exceedingly mature, so when people far older than I are immature, it’s an immense turn off, be it personally or professionally.

If you give me something and ask me to read it, be prepared for an honest answer when you inevitably ask “Is it good?” I used to ask people if they wanted my opinion or the truth, and to be careful with their choice. I no longer ask because whether it’s one or the other in terms of delivery, it is still the unadulterated truth. Dunkin Donuts and I have not teamed up to sugar coat your day. Mmm, donuts…

Editors still have lives. I work hard, but when I need a break it is usually due to my health or personal responsibilities. I cannot be glued to my laptop 24/7 looking at the same material every single moment. One, it’s not healthy and two, it’s important to get up and move when you work at a computer all day. Sitting is the new cancer, at least according to the medical professionals I know. I don’t know about all of you, but it makes me uncomfortable hearing the two words used together, so it’s not uncommon for me to walk away and do a load of laundry, or cook, watch the birds and bunnies in the backyard for a while, or simply shut the computer down for a few hours and focus on other things. I’m human. Moreover, I’m a human-being who suffers from Fibromyalgia. The days I can sit at all are miraculous. My pain gets worse each day, so I’m not receptive to whining from others.

I can either do something right the first time or not do it at all. If you consistently annoy me, you can pretty much guarantee I will be unavailable for future projects. I’ve already done enough work for 20 paychecks, not one. It’s hard not to be frustrated knowing that.

For future reference, too many people think they’re writers. Puking ideas onto paper does not make you a writer. Cohesive storytelling is a gift. Having honest people in your life who encourage the good and let you know when something is awful is also important.

There are days I wish I was an unprofessional hack. 😦

For those of you that messaged me about cutting off so much of my hair: I am almost certain today that it’s too short and I hate it, but I am trying to give myself time to get used to it. In turn, I am off to play with the Topstyler and see if that makes a difference. If it doesn’t, I am changing the color to blue until it grows back. Right now I am pretty sure I look like my brother with hair. 😦

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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To Cut Or Not To Cut

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In editing, I spend a lot of time “cutting out the crap”. Endless amounts of time are spent, weeding through words, cutting what does not mesh well, making everything cohesive in the end. Flow is important when it pertains to writing. In fact, it is crucial. A successful manuscript isn’t always about the first draft, but the finished product.

As an experienced editor, I know when to cut something in my own work. If that means deleting an entire chapter, five words, or only keeping key elements of the chapter and re-writing, then I do that. That which is best for the overall body of work is what I am going to do, even if it’s slightly upsetting/heartbreaking in the moment. I also keep a few files for paragraphs and/or chapters/characters that are well-written, but might work differently with something else or fit better in another spot. Sometimes, you don’t have to cut something entirely, and other times, you do. It’s trial and error.

I feel content with the amount of work I’ve done over the last few weeks. I still have the killer manuscript. My goal is to focus on the manuscript as much as humanly possible until it is completed. Should additional smaller jobs pop up, I will work on them because they’re immediate and don’t require as much face time as the manuscript needs, but ultimately I want to get this big one done.

Because I’ve worked my ass off, I am excited to say I cut something else entirely today. Rather than trekking into the city (New York people, I will never refer to any other place as “the city”.) to see my usual stylist, I went to my local stylist and chopped off more than half of my hair as a “reward” for working so hard and not having the time to do “me things” as often as I’d like. I wanted to do it last Friday, but she was off and I wasn’t able to make it there on Sunday which is the start of her work week. So, I went this afternoon. My hair was at my waist, it now sits above my shoulders with a mess of really cool layers in it. It’s going to take some time to get used to it, but it feels amazing. I cannot remember the last time my hair was so short that I couldn’t put it in a pony-tail, braid, a clip, or twist it into something cute. I suspect I’ll be using the TopStyler on a regular basis now that it’s so short. Beachy waves will look great with this cut. Bring on the salt spray!

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Fucked Up Parents

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An acquaintance of mine mentioned the other day that she threw a birthday party for her eight year old daughter. That part of the story started off innocent enough. After all, it’s a child’s birthday party, not a caviar tasting.

She planned the party and sent out invites, ten in total. When her daughter’s birthday rolled around this past weekend; her daughter sat, all dressed up, waiting for her “friends” to arrive. Not a single child came.

There is something seriously wrong with an exceptionally large group of parents and it makes me sick.

Children are innocent. There is no eight year old on this planet that should know that kind of rejection by peers or general treatment from adults. Especially not on their birthday. The more I think about it, the angrier I get.

Manners, decency, common courtesy, and respect are things we are all taught. I am supremely polite and chock full of manners…until you piss me off. This incident pisses me off. I realize this is becoming a common trend. It is disgusting and it has to stop.

I vividly remember a childhood birthday party that was somewhere between age eight and ten. I still have the crown my mother carefully made somewhere, but I’m certain on the age bracket. It was a surprise party. I knew something was up because everyone was acting really weird and telling me blatant lies. Somehow no one was available to do something the day of my birthday. One parent actually said she was taking her child Christmas shopping. In October. That could have gone very wrong, very fast, but it didn’t. I read the lie and thought it incredibly bizarre. And when my mother claimed we had to stop at a place we never went the afternoon of my birthday, I thought nothing of walking in, until I saw the crowd of friends and family waiting to surprise me. I openly admit, I was NOT happy about it. I had a bit of a tantrum because I didn’t approve of what she’d done. The fact that she had to leave the party to go on a job interview was even more heartbreaking to me, but I will never forget that she went out of her way to do something special for me. The people who wanted to be there were there, and the party still stands out in my mind to this day.

The fact that people now RSVP to children’s birthday parties (or in some cases, ignore the invite altogether), but no longer bring their children to the parties they have committed to attending is disgusting. Why would you not show up with your child in tow? What do you gain out of that level of cruelty aimed at a child? It’s not normal. In fact, it is quite sick. I don’t really care how fucked up parents treat each other, but I DO care about how children are treated, and this birthday party crap is an absolute NO.

Her mother has basically said “No more parties. I’m not going to subject my child to this crap ever again.” That saddens me because if you’d seen this little girl’s face, you’d be sad too. I was proud of her for putting all of the parents on blast via social media, letting them know that her daughter, who always attended all of their children’s parties and brought a great gift with her, along with her fantastic personality, would no longer be attending any of the parties she normally went to. She finished the statement by saying she’d better not see any of them in public. Again, we’re talking about the parents of eight year olds. It’s not uncommon if one or two people can’t make it on the day you’ve scheduled the party, and it’s always a possibility that a child is sick and cannot attend, but as a PARENT, you make a fucking phone call to let the other parent(s) know in advance AND, if you’ve got any real class, you drop off the gift so that the other child doesn’t have to feel like she’s unimportant, cast out, and that her birthday is no longer “special”. Yes, there’s always the chance a few people won’t be there, but all ten? That’s not a coincidence.

I’ve never been an immense social butterfly, but I feel that children shouldn’t be subjected to this kind of crap. Usually this level of shit is reserved for junior high and high school, but now it’s occurring in elementary school and it’s a terrible message to be sending our children. There is nothing normal about this behavior. In fact, it is parents openly encouraging the early stages of bullying. What kind of human-beings are they going to raise with that kind of attitude?! Is this world going to get worse based on this generation of rampant bullying?

I was taught crucial things as a child, and bullying wasn’t on the list. #1- Not everyone is going to like you and you’re not going to like everyone, but you do have to co-exist. In life, in business, in social situations. #2- Treat people the way you want to be treated. #3- Don’t say you’re going to attend anything unless you’re truly going to show up. The only reason not to go is illness you don’t want other people/children to get (I was kept home from several parties due to strep throat, which was absolutely the right call.). #4- Always say please and thank you. Obviously, there were many other things, but that’s the short list for this situation and it all holds true today.

I don’t know what to take away from this scenario other than the fact that far too many parents do not practice what they preach and it scares me to write this from an emotional standpoint, wondering how many of them are lurking behind false smiles. So for all the parents reading this, please don’t spread your douchebaggery to your kids. They might get your DNA, but they do not need poor social skills, nor do they need to be bullies that grow into passive-aggressive adults who attack civilized human-beings in the professional world.

If you’re a parent that has ever pulled this kind of crap, there is a proverbial kick in the ass waiting for you. Harming a child in any capacity is a direct line to some form of hell and quite frankly, if you perpetuate this kind of behavior, you deserve it.

To the little girl affected by this: I promise you that not all children and parents are alike. You will learn this as you get older. Happy Belated Birthday, little one. One bad birthday doesn’t mean they’re all going to be like this. Shake it off, show no fear, do not be ashamed, and grow up to be strong and determined. In 20 years, you’ll be more accomplished than all of these twits.  

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.