“Do everything with your whole heart, or not at all. Don’t put up with lies or with people who lie to you. Don’t risk hurting people just for the fun of it. And lastly, your best foot shouldn’t be put forward; it should be with you at all times— right there beside the other one.” ―C. JoyBell C.
Being Real
This Is For…
“This is for girls who have the tendency to stay up at night listening to music that reminds them of their current situation. Who hide their fears, hurt, pain and tears under the smiles, laughs and giggles on a daily basis. The girls who wear their heart on their sleeve. The girls who pray that things will work out just once and they’ll be satisfied. The girls who scream and cry to their pillows because everyone else fails to listen. The girls who have so many secrets, but won’t tell a soul. The girls who have mistakes and regrets. The girls that never win. The girls that stay up all night thinking about that one boy and hoping that he’ll notice her one day. The girls who take life as it comes, to the girls who are hoping that it’ll get better somewhere down the road. For the girls who love with all their heart although it always gets broken. To girls who think it’s over. To real girls, to all girls: You’re beautiful.” ―Zayn Malik
Give Yourself Permission…
Love it or leave it, it makes no difference to me.
It’s Friday, Let’s Celebrate!
I have no idea why Friday, Saturday, and Sunday have become my favorite days of the week, but lately, I just can’t handle week days. Does anyone else feel like this?
I’ve had a rough week. I’ve been in a lot of pain and have required way more sleep than any single person my age should need (Still young, still fabulous. 😛 ). I work and then I look at the time, realizing that I’ve done a lot in short bursts of time, but that now that I’ve gotten work done, it’s time to close my eyes “for a little while”. The next thing I know, the day is over. I wake up from that brief little “nap”, check the time, and my cat and kitten are wrapped around each other. Apparently some kind of love fest goes on when I’m down for the count. I almost always have to be in bed and half asleep or completely out of it before they go into “love mode”.
Passive, sweet cat. Troublesome, but incredibly loving kitten. (You can see their photos on my About page.) They’re good for each other and they’re good for me, because without them, I wouldn’t get out of bed at all. There are many mornings when they’re both pacing around me, marking my face with theirs (kitten does this), to encourage me to go downstairs and give them breakfast. If that doesn’t work, they start bringing toys into the bed. I have no idea where either of them are, but I know that if the food is not delivered in a timely fashion, they will try to curry my favor with gifts. I can’t tell you how many times they’ve both placed gifts in my bathtub as a reminder, as if I’ve ever forgotten to feed them.
I’m VERY lucky, they’re relatively well-behaved and sweet. They’ve got attitude, but mostly, they know that they are loved and safe. When I’m in a terrible amount of pain, one or both of them will get into bed as soon as I’m comfortable and either lay by my feet or by my head, and they do not move until they see me calm down and fall asleep, and even then, I still wake up with them close by. There is a sweetness to that which makes me emotional at times. My cat is a lot less openly loving than my kitten, but I have a bond with both of them and I see how they call for me and come to visit me when I’m working. Basically, I get treated like one of them. Perhaps this is why they often place toys under my butt and then try to bite me awake. Sassy’s been doing this since she was a baby, and at 19 months, it wasn’t that long ago that she was the ruler of the roost and tiny, aggressively shoving me awake and demanding food constantly. Now that there are two little beasts, I have them on a schedule. She’s no longer interested in most games (my little one wants to play, but also self-entertains), but is happy to bite my feet or grab my ankle for a nip if she’s feel froggy.
Now that Miss Sass has a constant playmate, she’s no longer ripping me to shreds and biting me. Her breed isn’t known for a lot of verbal communication, so she spent ten months aggressively hurting me several times a day until I found her the perfect little companion. It was NOT love at first sight. It took about a week or so, and they slowly became obsessed with each other. Mini is also incredibly obsessed with me, but she’s still a baby.
☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤¸.•*¨*•☆☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤¸.•*¨*•☆☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤
What else is going on? Oh, yes! Because I’m a total hypocrite (And honest enough to admit it.), I am back on Facebook. My original account is still up in the air. Facebook and I have exchanged countless e-mails, and nothing has been worked out, so I waited a while and established a new account. I intentionally linked it to my cell phone which somehow authenticates that I am indeed a “real person” and not the countless things I was accused of in all of their e-mails back in January. If you want to pal around with me, let me know and I will send you my new hypocritical info.
Speaking of which, Facebook has changed quite a bit since I was gone. I am pretty sure someone peed in everyone’s coffee this morning because for every 30 people who liked something I said, I had one person go ballistic. To avoid future problems, I’m keeping a low profile. However, when subjects are open for discussion and you don’t know a person, I think it’s crucial not to call them “OCD” or “rude”, especially since you’re clearly not understanding the context. I was called both this morning by two absolute idiots. Mind you, gutless wonders like to hide behind their computers and spew horse shit.
My first thought was “Go fuck yourself!”, but I decided not to lower myself to their levels. Second, throwing obsessive compulsive disorder around as some sort of joke or insult is incredibly rude, and when one is not a healthcare professional, one has no right to say that to someone they do not know and have never met. That actually IS rude. Disagreeing with someone isn’t rude, we’re all entitled to do so.
I’m a supportive writer. I’m going to be honest, polite, and concise because that’s how I am. I’ve NEVER been rude on Facebook or any form of social media that I am aware of. If anyone has ever read my work and deemed me rude, then that was YOUR perception and not the facts. I’m not Ms. Sweetness & Light, I do not throw rainbows at you, nor do I shoot sugared unicorns when one deserves venom.
There is a fine line between sharing thoughts and being a bitch. I don’t bring out the bitch side unless it is warranted and I don’t do it on Facebook because I have a professional reputation to uphold. If I wouldn’t say something to your face, then I certainly wouldn’t say it behind your back or in a public forum. That’s not how I operate.
People like to throw my astrological sign into play in their “defense” quite a bit, but the truth is, I’m a pretty controlled Scorpio female. I might not always have been, but I learned a long time ago to get the negative aspects under control or they would control me. Lesson learned, and once broken of those habits, I did not return to them.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” That’s a load of shit. Words can hurt, they do hurt, and people throw them out there like it’s no big deal. I’m known for my “say anything” policy, but there ARE things I absolutely won’t say because I have morals, dignity, manners, self-respect, and boundaries. Some things are so below the belt that you simply don’t go there. You can think them, but then you must let them go because that kind of negativity breeds more negativity, and it’s unhealthy.
More and more, people are offended by anything and everything, but they care little for who THEY might offend. They have no manners or coping mechanisms for difference of opinion or basic relationship skills. Junior high school drama wasn’t cute in junior high school, and I won’t tolerate it as an adult. By all means, disagree with me. That’s fine. If you don’t know the context in which I mean something, don’t assume, ask. Judge not lest ye be judged.
Overall, I’m glad to have the account for my cousins and the few real friends I have, and for specific things that I’ve discussed here many times, but outside of that, I realize that I don’t miss it and that it’s a terrible waste of time. Who knew I’d grow to love Twitter?! By the way, thank you Lillian for suggesting it, and for clearly being a friend to me when others are full of crap (Link to her blog is attached to her name.). You go away for less than two months and you actually find out who your REAL friends & family are, both on and off social media. How utterly pathetic. True colors are shining bright and a lot of people are chicken-shit yellow. C’est la vie.
Also, there is a brand new blog, started by one of my best friends, that I am going to be interviewed for. I will make sure the link goes up ASAP.
And on that note, I hope you all have a lovely weekend. If you’re an NCAA fan, I hope you’re cheering for my team tonight in the Sweet 16. 🙂 GO DUKE!
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Break, Not Broken
Break, Not Broken
I came into this world intolerant of fake people, lies, and bullshit. This has only become more pronounced as I’ve gotten older.
There are actual photos of me as a baby, newly home from the hospital, and the expression on my face is priceless. I know exactly what I was thinking in every single photo because the core of who I am has not changed. If I didn’t like the person holding me, it showed. If I thought someone was false, it showed. To this day, you can see a lot of what I’m thinking on my face, unless I’m using what is often called my “FBI face”. It’s an incredibly blank “I really don’t give a shit” face. It can come across bitchy, but it’s really me, completely uninterested. Unfortunately, I’ve been feeling like that a lot lately.
My thought process of late is blank. I’m incapable of listening to bullshit or tolerating much of anything. In fact, my tolerance level is zilch, so comment with caution.
Paying attention to anything for more than a few minutes at a time is actually intolerable. I catch myself spacing out when people talk to me. The only things I can listen to are 1) A baby’s cries and 2) A cat’s cries. In my maternal make-up, these sounds are the ONLY sounds that turn me into a fearless, it-doesn’t-matter-that-I-got-no-sleep-what’s-wrong kind of person. Everything else, right now, either makes me sick or makes me want to lock myself in a hole. I call it my “boiling point”. When I reach that level, it’s time to disengage from certain aspects of my life.
Obviously these are not normal patterns for me. I’ve lived a long time and haven’t hidden in a broom closet once, or any closet for that matter. I suspect we ALL want to walk away from life at times, just pick up and go somewhere for a year or so, and not be bothered by the bullshit of daily life. It’s normal and it’s okay to feel that way. And yet, I won’t go because I feel rooted by responsibilities.
Someone said to me last month “Not having a cell phone for a few months can be very freeing.” Amen to that, brother! When a phone rings, unless I already know who it will be, I cringe. It doesn’t matter if it’s my home phone or my cell, I visibly cringe. There are less than five people I will accept calls from, and only one person whose texts I look forward to because she constantly makes me laugh or encourages me, and I respect the supportive relationship I have with her (She knows who she is because we text a LOT.). Everything else in my life feels bleak. It feels like somewhere along the way, everything became deeply shaded in grey, and there is very little color.
I know what rock bottom feels like. This is similar, but it is emotionally different. As we get older, our emotions for certain things change and that is to be expected. Our reactions are no longer the reactions of a teenager or someone younger, but as adults, every person reacts differently.
I am often told I “think too much”, or I’m “too intense”, “too passionate”, etc. If you’re not passionate about something or someone, then what’s the point of living? If you don’t have passion, you cannot be intense about anything. If you don’t utilize the brain you are given by thinking and learning, then what’s the point of having one? Eventually, it all sounds less like “advice” and more like judgment, and lets face it, that’s exactly what it is.
Naturally people would prefer it if I were any number of things: Nicer, kinder, quieter, less vocal, less apt to open my mouth and let someone have it, etc. In the grand scheme, it makes me feel like the people in my life want me to be some soft, pathetic, whiny version of myself that I have NEVER been. I can’t tell you how many times a week someone says “Be nice.” or “That was mean.” I was honest, but apparently honesty is now considered “not nice” and “mean”. You’d think I publicly murdered puppies the way some people react to basic, every day language.
Do you want a “Yes person” around you 24/7? I don’t. It’s perfectly okay to disagree with me. Everyone is entitled to their own views and feelings. You don’t have to believe in a single thing that I believe in. You don’t have to like the things I like or watch something because I said it was fantastic. No one needs to blindly follow me. Liking me is not mandatory. In fact, I’d prefer respect over being liked. I lack the ability of making real words seems like they’ve been dipped in sugar. I can be a perfectly polite, nice person, yes, but if I disagree with something, I feel I am entitled to do so. Apparently my personality often makes other people afraid to the point where they feel they have to agree with me. Hearing that makes me nauseous because I know I don’t actually have that kind of power, but if I did, I’d use it for more important things.
Ultimately, I am burned out. Hopefully at some point within the next few months I will know precisely which direction my life is going in and be able to either go away for a while (even just a few weeks would be awesome. Sometimes a change of environment is the best thing for the soul.) or start planning a summer excursion. Anyone that would like to have me around for a while should let me know now. I’ll say anything for a laugh in my quest to be entertaining, I’m relatively low maintenance, and I cook, what more could you want?
P.S. I am begrudgingly working on a Twitter account for this page. In the meantime, you can follow me @LisaMMarino I just wouldn’t expect much right now, I’m still trying to figure it out.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
The Truth Is…
I am sick of it all. I am exhausted beyond measure. I feel emotionally shredded.
I’m tired of people trying to emulate me. I realize they lack vision, manners, and basic common sense. No matter what people say, we’re not all “born with it”.
Fibromyalgia pain is gutting me. There are too many days I cannot walk, and many more where I cannot function. And yet, I keep working my tail off.
I believe in empowering others, especially women.
I believe in loyalty, love, friendship, and being able to combine the three. I believe in being a devoted friend, no matter what. I don’t believe in keeping score. Life isn’t a hockey game and friends shouldn’t try to rack up points with one another.
I believe in being a good sister, but there are days even I have my limits.
I believe in being a good cousin, but again, I have my limits.
I believe in being a good niece.
I believe in being a good partner, but I don’t believe in being with someone because I am afraid of being alone. I’m not. I would rather be alone than be in a bad relationship. Hell, I’d rather read a book than be in a bad relationship!
I will always stand my ground. I will not waver in who and what I am. I am confident in the person I have become. I am not without my faults, but I’m well-aware of what they are. No one is perfect.
I believe in talking someone down off a ledge. Unfortunately, I can’t talk myself down off of mine.
I have faith, intelligence, strength, talent, and skills. And yet, where Fibromyalgia dwells, pain often tries to rob me of it all.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Freelance Doesn’t Mean Free
Some days, I am utterly appalled by the audacity of others. There is a fine line between offering to help someone as a form of empowering another woman, and then dealing with the opposite side of the coin where someone wants you to do a job, but then wants you to lower your rate.
When I work with someone for the first time on a novel length project, or something larger (like a trilogy), I respectfully ask for 30-50% up front as a down payment. This protects me if the person eventually backs out. If they do, I’ve at least gotten something for my hard work. When a person jumps on my schedule and then tells me the down payment is “too high” (By my standards, it was actually too low.), but already admitted she was going to pay a hell of a lot more to another editor who could not take her until the end of next month, it grates on my hard-working nerves. I don’t like being screwed with.
Just like everyone else, I have bills to pay. They come every month, like clockwork, and none of them are willing to negotiate with me. Sometimes, you don’t eat because someone wants to wait two weeks to pay you. It sucks.
I’ve discussed my philosophy before about hiring an editor and it still stands solid: COME TO PLAY. Expect to pay. Yes, you can “shop around” for someone less expensive, but inevitably, you do get what you pay for.
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve done thousands of dollars worth of work for little to no money. It’s terribly insulting to someone with 20 years of experience, but a job is a job. I will take a proofreading job if it will pay a bill or put food on the table. I will beta read for someone if that means I’m being paid. It’s not fun, but it is what it is.
I truly wish every aspiring writer knew how to use spell check, understood that commas are crucial, and didn’t have a negative attitude towards having to pay someone for WORK. Lets face facts, no one goes to work for free. You may love your job (I know a handful of people that do.), but ultimately you love your paycheck as well. Even a shitty paycheck can pay the rent/mortgage, pay for food, keep the lights on, etc. As a woman that has to do it all herself, I find myself less and less amused by the greed of others.
Alas, I’m simply venting. I have a migraine and because I’ve had terrible struggles with sleep of late, I know it will be a long time before my head hits the pillow. On the plus side, I have several hours all to myself tomorrow afternoon into the early evening. I am FINALLY going to change my hair color after saying I would do so for the past month. That might seem silly, but a company did send me a product to use and write reviews, and that’s one of the fun things about having a beauty blog on the side. I really think going back to that for a while and allowing myself to be creative would be beneficial to my health. I’m sure no one wants to read my bitching. God, please grant me the Serenity not to murder all of these idiots.
Here’s hoping tomorrow is a superior day for us all. 🙂
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
How Not To Kill A Client
How Not To Kill A Client
99% of the time, I love what I do. I’m a writer who doesn’t have to answer to anyone, but on the day-to-day, as an editor, there’s a plethora of crap that gets to me occasionally.
There is a fine line between being professional and being a bitch. Some people are slightly afraid of their editors, others think our jobs are “so easy a toddler can do it”, and others have more respect. I am pretty laid back and I will not mess with quality on the off-chance it’s actually presented to me (It’s becoming a rarity.). I have mastered that line between total pro and bitch. So when I got feedback on a job the other day and didn’t receive my usual 5 star rating all across the board, I had to go and check my interactions with this particular client.
Despite his one line comment (stating that I was efficient and delivered way ahead of schedule) and ranking, I know I was the epitome of skilled and professional. I looked at our conversations and all I can say is that he had very little to say, but asked me to be 100% honest and extensively edit, no holds barred. His first reaction upon receiving the completed manuscript was “It looks GREAT!” Furthermore, I asked him twice if he needed me to go back in and do anything more, even after I’d been paid. Technically, that is far more than anyone else would be willing to do. I know this because I always go above and beyond where others will demand more money to do so. As my “reward”, he gives me a low score on professionalism and quality. (In all fairness, he ranked those two sections at 4 stars instead of 5, but I KNOW I earned 5 stars.) WHAT.THE.FUCK?! Again, I had to double-check to see if I’d done or said something that could have been taken the wrong way. I went through our discussions and the body of work submitted back to him. Not a thing. I was thorough, honest, and highly complimentary of his work because it really is very interesting and well done.
I won’t lie; when I saw the feedback, I was PISSED. It doesn’t take much to piss me off these days, but I was violently livid, and rightly so. However, I know better than to confront someone about this. Instead, I decided that to show my professionalism was the BEST revenge. I turned around and left him stellar feedback as a client. I meant every word, but I wanted him to see I’m not some unprofessional lowlife. For anyone who has ever worked with me to say that speaks for them, but it says absolutely nothing about me, especially if I’ve only worked for you for a few weeks.
Truth be told, I’d rather a client say absolutely NOTHING than leave feedback that is less than stellar. If you have an issue, it’s perfectly fine to come to me directly and ask me to fix something, or go over the work again. Go directly to the source. Ultimately, this is my livelihood, not eBay. This is not amateur hour. My mother and Grandmother both taught me that if I didn’t have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all. I do utilize that tactic most of the time, but if you piss me off, all bets are off.
Mind you, I do not name names. Not ever. A client could be on the New York Times Best Sellers List and I will NEVER talk about that or mention them by name because it is not my place to do so. Even if I don’t sign an NDA with a client, I still don’t discuss their work or give away their ideas. I have integrity, even when they drive me to the point where I’ve contemplated melon-balling my eyes out, or worse.
He’ll never read this, but he CAN bite me over that feedback. Moreover, while he was being an asshole, I am now officially triple-booked. My new client told me I am “seriously over-qualified for pretty much every job”. That comment alone made my day. 🙂
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Originally…
Originally, I prepared a post for today that, after sleeping on it, I realized could be considered quite offensive for some of my readers. In an effort to be respectful and courteous, I’m going to file it away for my portfolio and not post it.
I’m not a “Lets hurt as many people’s feelings as possible and lets to do it intentionally” kind of person. I’m incredibly direct and blunt. I don’t have much of a filter, and sometimes that can seem “harsh” to some or “angry” to others when what it really is, is me being me and being real. I’m not a fan of dusting life in sugar. That’s not honest.
Religion and the differences between them is a very touchy subject. Not for me, as I am always open to a theological debate, but for me it’s more about spirituality, not so much anything else. It’s about explaining things to people so they aren’t walking around completely ignorant. Alas, I don’t want to offend anyone, so I’m going to keep my mouth shut. So yes, it was a holiday related post and I do realize it could have come off hurtful as opposed to honest and humorous. Not everyone understands my humor, and that’s okay.
There are words being used today that you will not see on this page. Ever. That is my choice. I try to be polite and respectful of others, which is precisely why I’m not posting what I originally wrote.
Instead, I’ll go back to my regularly scheduled cooking and reading. I am trying to finish up The Bane Chronicles by Cassandra Clare (Interesting and entertaining, if you’re considering it.) and Sons Of Anarchy: Bratva, which is basically like reading an episode of the show in a book. And, as I said, cooking. If nothing else, I still have to “feed the people”, or at least that’s what I’m told. LOL.
I hope everyone near and far has a great day. Be happy, healthy, and safe.
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Grief Is
Grief is like a snowflake? If you want to be poetic about it, okay. If you want to be honest about it, which I am going to be, grief is a demonic fucker that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.
I buried my father seven years ago today. The morning of the funeral I was up until nearly 2:00 a.m. finishing the eulogy. I have no idea how I functioned that day because eight hours later I was heading back home, back to the funeral home where I’ve had to bury almost every key person in my life. I stood up in front of family and friends and brought the house down. The rabbi went up after me, saying “She’s a tough act to follow.” My father’s co-workers came up to me afterward, blown away by what I had written and how I speak in public. A few of them had known him for 40+ years, others nowhere near as long, but they all came, right before Christmas, and paid their respects. I can say a LOT about that because it’s a level of respect that I respect and appreciate. It’s something I will never forget. My father’s own family (all but a few did not live locally), never bothered to show up at the funeral, call, or send so much as a card. I damn near kicked a headstone over this disrespect at the neighboring cemetery where, in four inch heels, I flipped out at my Uncle’s grave and told him he should be ashamed of his family. The tone of voice I was using was enough to probably break bone. If any of them ever need an exact match for tissue or organ donation, I would have to seriously re-think my views on “family” because I don’t tolerate disrespect. There are moments in life when you truly see everyone for who and what they truly are. Sometimes it’s heartening, and other times it makes you murderous.
I’ve been sitting here for the last few hours wondering why I feel so terrible. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. I’ve wondered if I was coming down with a cold, and a plethora of other issues. While it is entirely possible that I have a cold in my system, the truth just hit me: I’m upset and when I realized the date, I changed my plans for the day. I don’t want to have a nervous breakdown in public. I will make sure the two places I need to go are open tomorrow and go then, because it’s not an emergency, but it does need to get done before everything shuts down on Christmas Eve, which I totally understand and respect. I think the only thing that will be open Christmas Day is Walmart (Every year I call them to check, expecting a different answer. Every year they tell me “We never close.”) and the movie theater, and probably a Chinese restaurant or two. I’m cooking, so I want fresh ingredients because I am on some insane mission to get through the rest of this year without going ballistic or tearing someone apart. I’m not certain the latter won’t happen. There is a LOT I can accomplish in eight days.
Today, it’s okay to have a mini-meltdown in the privacy of my own home. It’s okay to be upset and angry, and to feel abandoned.
I thought I’d reached the stage of acceptance. Maybe I have, but that doesn’t mean loss is not upsetting to me. When you lose your parents young, the way you view life is very different than it is if you lose your parents at a more appropriate age, like 90. We all live hoping to make it past retirement age, but the truth is, even though many of us say that a specific age is “too old”, we still want to live into the future. Our desire to survive is still present. A family friend once said “I’m never retiring. I’ll still work when I’m 100, so long as I can do so.” He’s a good person, a hard worker, and I pray he makes it to 100 and can see his grand-daughters grow up, maybe even become a great-Grandfather and be able to enjoy that too.
My father never got to see any of those things. I don’t know that he would have truly been interested to do so, but still, it hurts. I do not hurt solely for myself. I hurt for my brother, who really needs a parental figure in his life right now. My father was everything to him. He is not as strong as I am and I spend a lot of time worrying about him because he & I are so different. It’s hard to believe we’re brother and sister, unless it comes down to our sense of humor, passion for things that are important to us, and small things that brand you as “siblings” to others, even if you don’t look alike.
Losing a family member is never easy. Losing one during the holidays is very hard. Having to re-live it year after year is a choice. I tried working through it, but sometimes it creeps up out of nowhere and slaps me across the face. I remember it happening last year too. I did so well on the anniversary of his death, but today, I just have to let myself cry and grieve. Odd as it sounds, tomorrow will come with an entirely different set of emotions.
As the great Billy Crystal has often said “Grieving is a process.”
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Written by LISA MARINO-Molchanova 