Rudeness

Cannon Fodder

Miss Poison Cannon Fodder, Poison In Lethal Doses, Things That Enrage Me, Writing , , , , , , ,

writer-cannonfodder

Cannon Fodder

Author’s Note: There is a huge difference between being judgmental and not accepting someone’s bullshit.

For my entire writing career, I’ve had a lot of hard & fast rules. A list of “don’ts”, per se. I’ve stuck to those rules, and I’ll continue to stick to the ones that are genuinely important (Zero plagiarism is Rule #1, obviously.). However, in lieu of my upcoming anniversary this Spring, I’ve decided to throw the majority of those additional rules out a metaphorical moving car window.

There is a time and a place for everything, both in daily life and with the written word, but lately people’s behavior is feeding me such rich material (It usually does.) and I’m tired of letting people slide on things. They don’t know they’re doing it, but they’ve unwittingly become cannon fodder. And so, I want people to know from here on in, if you want to remain on my good side, don’t be an asshole who says stupid, ignorant, foolish shit to me. Treat me the way you want to be treated, so I don’t have to write about it. If you don’t care what you say, how you behave, or you forget who you’re talking to, then you’ve merely proven my point; you’re asking to be cannon fodder, and fodder you shall be.

Two members of my family are expecting a baby this summer, a firstborn son. I immediately got a gift idea in my head and decided to design it myself. I knew they’d love it because it is 100% unique, completely tailored to their interests. I’m pretty crafty when I want to be and have an impeccable eye for detail. She (the person not directly related to me) then makes a comment on Facebook about how what she’s looking for is unavailable everywhere she has looked and that what she’s seen from people who craft is “subpar”. Excuse me?! People who craft are some exceptionally talented folk. I can drool over stuff on Etsy for hours; stuff I cannot for the love of G-d make on my own, and that is some incredibly talented craftsmanship through my varied interests and tastes. In turn, I found that comment immensely disrespectful. I can do it myself, and I guarantee it won’t be “subpar”. $80+ in materials for a custom-design that no sane person would ask for, and she’s got that kind of attitude? That’s not rude or anything. <rolls eyes>

I specifically told her NOT to order an item or purchase one, that the gift was intended to be a surprise for them. I then get a Facebook message from her letting me know how sweet that is, BUT “she wants everything to match the baby’s room”. A room that is obviously not painted, has no furniture in it, and is a completely empty canvas. Call me crazy, but you just bitched to everyone you know, including your mother and mother-in-law, about how you cannot find designs with your fucking dog on it. I am willing to do one that you could literally use for additional children, if you’re so blessed, and you’re being a bitch to me? A person who you haven’t even met. Real classy. <cue the snarkiest eye roll you’ve ever seen>

In the midst of her rudeness, she then asked when she & my cousin could visit me or if I wanted to meet them somewhere. I’m roughly 30 minutes away, depending on traffic. Her sudden interest is bizarre because I’ve been here for over a fucking year. My Hand to G-d, I nearly told her to go fuck herself. I was super-polite, and then short with her and dismissive. She’s too stupid to realize that my tone went from warm and accepting to 100 below zero. She cannot accept a beautiful gift with graciousness, like every other pregnant woman I know (People are telling her they’ll make baby blankets and other items for her, all of which she is completely accepting of, so yes, I have every right to feel that her behavior was completely rude and disrespectful.), so now I’m too tired to spend months making a mobile for the baby’s crib. She can register, like normal first-time mothers do, which I heavily implied she ought to consider doing, and I’ll decide whether or not she’s deserving of a gift or not when the time comes.

Despite having not bought the materials yet, I let her know I was annoyed, for which she apologized and claimed she was making my cousin and her mother “insane”. Yeah, I weep openly for her mother (Not at all.), but my cousin I truly feel sorry for. He has enough problems without her behaving like a spoiled brat. I don’t appreciate her attitude or disrespect. I’d love to tell him that, because he’s mostly got my back in a lot of ways, we have a very good relationship, but I know he’ll immediately repeat what I say to her, to his mother, etc., and thus, I will become “the bitch”. Not true, but it’s how that side of the family likes to twist things. They all think they’re perfect. That simply isn’t possible. No one on Earth is perfect.

Normally, I might skip the gift altogether because I will play no significant role in this child’s life, but I was invited to the baby’s Bris (six months in advance). I wasn’t particularly fond of the way the Facebook Messenger “invite” was worded, either. What is WRONG with people? Does everything have to be announced and discussed via social media?! Can’t you just mail an invitation like a normal person? Or a potential save-the-date? Seriously?! Yes, with a Bris there is a timing issue, eight days, but you don’t have to message me on Facebook, the land of the impersonal pretending to be personal.

For starters, I was asked to attend, but was also apologized to, “incase ritual circumcision is offensive to me”. I wish you all could have seen me reading the message. Why would ritual circumcision offend me? I’m as Jewish as they are. It might offend someone else, but to me, it is a natural part of having a boy with Jewish parents (Please save your opinions for yourself, I’m not having a discussion about whether or not to have a circumcision on your own son, or for you to go out and have it done as an adult! I’m explaining a situation, not debating religious beliefs.). The next statement was this winner: “I was afraid to tell people we’re having a boy because most people aren’t into the simcha, they just want free food.” What the fuck did you just say to me?! That comment 100% rubbed me the wrong way. I read it five times to make sure I hadn’t hallucinated or had a stroke.

#1- I’ve never gone to an event, be it a family function or otherwise, for the fucking food. Seriously, you cannot impress me on that level. I’ve given five stars restaurants a huge thumbs down.

#2- Unless you’re planning on having me cater the event, you don’t have to worry about people going into a food frenzy <Yes, I’m rolling my eyes, but I also mean it.>.

#3- Perhaps you should only invite your immediate family (of which I am not), close friends (of which I most certainly am not), and loved ones who attended your wedding ten years ago (Despite being family, I wasn’t on the guest list.).

I know if it were me, such ludicrous thoughts would not be in my head. I’d be ecstatic and want to share with loved ones, which is less than 20-25 people, so obviously I don’t have to worry about such psychotic things, like whether or not someone is attending for “free food”. The fact that it was said truly appalls me.

When was the last time I attended a Bris? When my cousin Seth came home from being adopted. Loosely translated: A long fucking time ago. I don’t feel a deep desire to attend this one, not with such attitudes in the air. However, if I am still living in this state, I will try to be present. Try being the operative word. Mostly because it’ll kill his mother to be in the same room with me. 😉

In truth, I will have to go based on how I feel that day. If I’m not feeling it, then I’m not going. I can send a gift with someone else or mail it. Believe me, my absence will not be noticed by anyone attending. I do NOT feel obligated to kill myself for unappreciative, rude people.

When you’re pregnant, there are more important things to be concerned with than baby bedding and preparing a room, especially when you’ve got an over-bearing mother, obscenely over-bearing mother-in-law, and a slew of psychotic relatives who will bend over backwards to help you. If you’re a first-time mother, the best thing to do is make sure you’ve got a portable crib in your room because that’s precisely where the baby will spend the majority of his or her time, especially if you are nursing. In fact, I told her “You have plenty of time.”, in my attempt to give her the chance not to be a bitch and calm her down a bit. However, the entire time I was trying not to say “Hey bitch, accept a gift with a thank you, like a normal person. You’re behaving like a spoiled brat.” How I stifled myself, I do not know.

Instead of asking about the design and maybe using it as the focal point for the room, which I gave her the opportunity to do for well over two weeks, she storm-rolled over me in her desire for “everything to match”. Babies can only see black & white for the first few months, so color is beyond them. I know many people go with shades of white and grey with little black details, and they do this for that very reason before introducing color. Plus, it’s easy to change the room over as they grow. Anyone who is doing color immediately is doing it for themselves. The baby is NOT going to be impressed. On this level, I know she is trying to compete with her sister-in-law, who recently had her second child, and who moved into a enormous mansion last summer. She doesn’t have those things, so she’s obsessing over unattainable “perfection”. I, however, don’t have to tolerate the nonsense.

My Goddaughter’s custom-made mobile was a HUGE hit when she was born in 2011. It still hangs in her room, not because it needs to be there any more (My G-d, she’s almost six!), but because it was a cherished, respected, appreciated gift. It was also an item no one thought to purchase or make out of all the people who did send gifts and visit, so the beautiful piece remains in tact. It plays music and she has always loved it. Score one for Aunt Lisa.

Gift-wise, I could still do the mobile and let her deal with it (Though I personally feel she’s undeserving of such beauty at this stage in the game. Especially since I have to apologize to the person who was making the dogs for me. Dogs based off of photos of their dog. Seriously, it’s a pretty damn thoughtful gift idea for people I’m not even remotely close to.), or I can wait until the baby is born and do something last-minute with zero personality. Normally I hate the last-minute thing, but in this case, maybe she’ll be less bitchy once she realizes that the most important thing in all this is not the perfect, matching nursery, but having a happy, healthy baby and a healthy, safe pregnancy.

Women have babies all over the world every single day. Not all of these babies survive. In turn, I feel she should focus on what’s truly important; delivering a healthy child into this world, as opposed to being an ungrateful bitch. Apparently she’s picking up on some of the uglier traits of her in-laws. That or she’s always been this way, I will never know for sure, and I refuse to allow people to make excuses for her behavior and how she spoke to me.

This is how she turned herself into cannon fodder. She won’t be the first and she certainly won’t be the last. And before you ask, she will likely never read this because her IQ is pretty close to a sock. Bless her heart. Moreover, I would not care if she did read this and cried because quite frankly, her rudeness will not be forgotten. If there’s one thing I don’t care for, it’s rude, attention-seeking little shits. You only get one chance to make a good first impression. Hers resulted in over two thousand words. What does that say about her?
A lot, I’d say.

New rule #1? Piss me off, pay the consequences.

Stay tuned!

copyright © 2017 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

pissmeoff-mug

Pass The Hammer

Miss Poison Musings, Noise, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , , , ,

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In the suburbs, it seems that people are always trying to “top” one another by adding on to their homes. In this particular area we all have about the same amount of physical land, but the houses range in size ever so slightly. Most of the homes are pretty standard 1-3 bedrooms with one bathroom, some also have a half bath. Those that have been remodeled within the last 1-15 years are larger internally and/or externally, depending on who did the design.

For several years I had to listen to the racket of two neighbors having work done on their homes. If their contractors were on a deadline, there never appeared to be one based on the daily influx of noise that made me want to hurl hammers at the workers up on the roof. It didn’t matter what the temperature was outside, they were always making noise the second there was a glimmer of light in the sky.

A month or so ago, a house a few doors down began an add-on. I honestly thought it was on the opposite street behind me because the noise felt THAT close to my head. Every morning the banging, drilling, etc., would begin and it doesn’t seem to cease until about 4:00 PM, sometimes later. There are days they’re done at 2:00 and those are the days I praise God for the silence because sometimes, a woman needs to think in peace, ya know?

Last week I noticed that this add-on is seemingly an entirely new wing to the house. I hadn’t noticed before because I don’t go up that side of the street often enough. I have NO IDEA how they intend to actually achieve this before I murder someone.

This morning, on a viciously cloudy day, I had hoped the weather might keep them away. Nope. At 7:15, the nail guns and hammers started. I wasn’t asleep, but it is taking every last ounce of self-control to not go two houses down and tell them to get the fuck down before I go up there myself and thrown them down.

The noise drove me utterly insane yesterday. I was in so much pain that I did what I promised myself I would not do after working until after 9:00 a.m.; go back to bed. However, it took about three hours for the Aleve and the herbs to kick in to the point where I was able to fall asleep comfortably (I took them before I stopped working because, again, the pain was brutal.). When I woke up, they’d stopped working and I was THRILLED. I also prayed they weren’t screwing with me and didn’t plan on returning to work until it got dark. With some people, you never know.

The noise made me want to die during that horrible migraine period, every second of it is like a train going through your skull, but now with less headaches, I am still auditorily sensitive. The noise physically makes me ill. My body is still in “migraine mode”, ready to protect my head at the first sign of attack. I still expect bright lights and loud noises to cause me pain. And at any given moment, they can. I still have to be careful and aware of my triggers.

Call me crazy, but I find it rude to take over the entire neighborhood with noise and not say a word to anyone about the fact that all of this is going to occur. Let people know in advance. It’s called common decency!

Do you want to listen to a drill-saw at 10:00 a.m. when you’ve got a screaming newborn and haven’t had any sleep yourself? No. Do you want to listen to this shit all day long when you worked the entire night and have to sleep during the day so you can get up and go back to work each night? No fucking way. I find this type of behavior unbelievably rude and inconsiderate. It shows me, once again, how many people have their heads up their own ass.

I once had neighbors who would make noise 24 hours a day. Their TV’s were always on, blasting. Between video games in one room, music in another, and movies in a third, I was half a step away from committing murder. No matter how many times I asked them to take it down a notch or lower it all, that would only last a day or so before they’d go back to their usual behavior. They were never NOT at home, so I never got a reprieve from the noise.

No one should have to willingly leave their domicile for silence unless the work is being done inside their own home, and won’t take months. If something needed to be done, I’d respectfully let my neighbors know exactly how long it would take and I’d apologize for any inconvenience in advance, because I was raised with manners and decency. I’m not perfect, but I know how to be respectful.

Yes, I could be at Starbucks (how obnoxiously cliche’), the library, or a plethora of alternative places with free WiFi, but that would require an entirely different wardrobe than what I had in mind for today. It would also require patience, which I do not have, and dealing with people, which isn’t on my agenda on a good day, leave alone today.

It seems like every other person is “writing a book” and quite frankly, I’m sick of hearing about it. When you write in public, you leave yourself wide open to criticism. The few times I do write in public, it’s in a private room at the library where no one can see the screen and no one can ask me insipid questions.

At Starbucks, where every other person has a laptop open to their ‘book’, the idiots are also present. “So, you’re writing a book, eh?” “What’s that you’re working on there?” Every other question feels like the cast of the Pirates of the Caribbean have walked in and are nosing in everyone’s business. And naturally, I have no desire to sit there for eight hours listening to this shit and even less interest listening to people ramble on and on about “their novel”. You’re not eavesdropping, people are just that loud when it comes to bragging. Which, in turn, makes me want to scream: “Come to me when it’s finished, because then it’s “written”. Come back when it’s completely edited, cohesive in the storytelling, error-free, and sold, then it’s more than a pipe-dream. Until then, shush.” That’s not a slap or a jab at anyone, it’s simply how I feel.

I have three portfolios that are larger than you are tall and they are full of my work. I get to call myself a writer because I have systematically completed more work than I’ve started . There are many different types of writers. Not everyone writes a book, some people choose to, but I think it’s crucial to write and complete something before bragging yourself to death.

But hey, what do I know?

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

beinghonest

Coming Out Of The Ancestral “Closet”

Miss Poison Ancestry, Being Real, Finding Your Truth, Honesty, Images/Photos/Quotes, Inspiration, Languages, New York City, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Unfiltered, Writing , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

justbe

Coming Out of The Ancestral “Closet”

I find it more than a little appalling that in 2014, I am still being asked “What are you?” Not “What religion are you?” or your average, inappropriate social questions, which, by my standards, are still rude. No, it’s always been “What ARE you?”, with such profound emphasis, as if I am my own species. It’s become ridiculous, and as we’ve established, I am not a patient woman.

Growing up in New York City; a small, fair skinned, dark blue eyed, dark haired child, I was utterly adorable. I have pictures to prove it. My peaches & cream complected, blonde, hazel eyed mother was very clear in my genes, but so was my olive skinned, raven haired, dark brown eyed father. I was clearly a genetic mix of my parents and maternal Grandparents. For years, my eyes had that perfect Asian up-tilt, a gift of my Tribal Siberian and Mongolian ancestry, something that I now enhance with carefully applied eyeliner when I have the patience to do so. I was about six years old when they changed in color from dark blue to hazel. It normally doesn’t take such a long period of time for a child’s eye color to change.

Where am I going with this? Well, I will tell you. I’ve known for about 8 years now that I am indeed part Latina. I have absolutely no reason to hide it or not discuss it if it comes up in conversation, especially now that Spain and Portugal are allowing Jews to return for citizenship. I have to say, I was very sorely tempted to pack my bags and leave.

Growing up, everyone assumed I was either 100% Puerto Rican or 100% Italian. I am neither. In fact, I’m not 100% anything. I am so blended, I should have my own flag. My Latina roots come from Spain (Zaragoza) and Argentina (Buenos Aires).

Several months ago, while filling out some forms I checked the Caucasian box, as I’ve done my entire life, and followed up with Hispanic on the second portion of the form. It is truly the first time I’d ever done it, but I simply felt like not putting it down was to lie, and it bothered me, so I checked the box proudly. The woman handling the paperwork looked at me immediately and said “You’re Sephardic?!”, with such utter disbelief as she looked at the color of my skin and eyes, that I glanced up briefly from filling out the forms and said “I am Ashkenazi, Sephardic, Russian Siberian, and Jewish Asian.” In truth, that’s not even the half of it, but it was short and to the point. I didn’t owe her an explanation of my lineage, but I’d be damned if I was going to be treated any differently.

Really, why the hell does anyone give a shit?! Why did she? I later found out that as an immigrant to this country, she did not want anyone knowing she was Sephardic. I was slightly astounded, but anyone who is at an age where their Grandparents or parents may have died during the Holocaust is probably still hiding what they are. Having been born here, I suppose I do not feel the need to hide. I’ve never felt the need to do so, not ancestrally or religiously.

People tend to forget that Latinas come in all different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some are blonde and blue eyed, some are more like me, and others are dark haired, dark eyed, and always look naturally tan. I cannot tan to save my life, and since I detest sun damage and the sun on a whole, I religiously wear sun protection. Some of us speak Ladino, Yiddish, Spanish, Portuguese, or older versions of various languages. Some of my cousins, also Sephardic, speak French (My brother does, I do not.). I grew up in a bilingual home, my closest family friends did too, and they all spoke Spanish. I spent years studying other languages, and am now teaching my brother Italian, Russian, Ukrainian, and Spanish. I understand languages I don’t speak, but I base that on the fact that some of them are incredibly similar. I have been trying to learn Swedish for a couple of years now. Not for any other reason than I think it’s beautiful when spoken. Welsh is next on my list.

I’m a great observer of others, but I try very hard not to judge people based on race or religion. Everyone is an individual. If you treat me like shit, I am not going to judge your ethnic background for that, just you. If you treat me well, I’m not going to automatically assume that everyone like you will show the same kindness and respect.

I have friends from all walks of life, and I accept and respect them for their individuality. I don’t care where a person is from, so long as we treat each other with respect and courtesy. Most of the people in my life who are closest to me are not American born or American citizens (though I can now say for a fact that more are). Two of my best friends are Israeli and German. My boyfriend holds dual citizenship. He is Welsh born, returns to Wales several times a year to visit older relatives, but is not an American citizen. His parents and siblings are not American citizens either, but they’re some of the loveliest people, and to me, that’s all that matters.

I have a friend who, for damn near our entire friendship, would openly declare herself Hispanic “From SPAIN!”, she’d tell people loudly. She’s also part Cherokee, which shows. Honestly, it doesn’t matter, but now that our friendship has declined so badly, I have noticed more and more that she is embracing the fact that her ancestry is actually Mexican. It’s always been pretty evident to me, but would I ever have said a word to her about it? No. That’s disrespectful. That’s like catching me on a dumb day and then pointing out that I have some Polish ancestry. It’s rude and it’s not something you say or do.

I think what bothered me the most about her saying it so often is that people would ask her if she was Hawaiian, saying that she looked “exotic”, and I’d then think of Stefanie, one of my best friends, who is Native Hawaiian. There’s a definite difference, not just in looks, but in so much more. She is not simply born and raised there, you can see her Hawaiian and Japanese ancestry in her hair, eyes, skin, and beauty. It shines like a beacon. Her Italian mother, we often joke, barely got a gene in. Between her and her siblings, she is the one who most looks like her father’s side of the family. For the previously aforementioned friend, ancestry and honoring it is clearly a big issue, so I never, ever tried to make her feel uncomfortable, nor did I ever press her on it. I feel it is something to honor and show respect, not hide from or deny, but that’s me and my otherworldly view since I’m still being asked “What ARE you?”

The next time someone says that to me, I might very well declare myself a vampire, purchase a really cool pair of colored contacts from Italy, and not say a word to anyone ever again, until the sun sets. Stupid questions deserve stupid answers, do they not?

So, this is me. Part Latina. Owning it, not ashamed, remembering to use my Spanish instead of forgetting that I can speak it, completely unconcerned if my honoring it bothers someone else. It’s my genes, my ancestry, and if you’ve taken issue with it, fuck off!

“Coming Out Of The Ancestral ‘Closet’” is copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC., and was originally published on July 7th, 2014. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Rudeness

Miss Poison People, Plagiarism, Right/Wrong, Writing , , , , , ,

Rudeness

I’ve recently come to see precisely how intolerant I am towards a key group of people in this world. This isn’t about race or religion, it’s about basic common courtesy and manners. At the core of who I am, I am supremely fair and I am all about having exceptional manners.

Is it rude for me to politely and respectfully request that someone not come along and post my work, without asking, on their own blogs? I don’t think that’s a disrespectful request, not in the least. I suppose if I was a real bitch about it, it could be perceived as rude, but a polite, respectful, properly worded “Can you please remove this?” or “If you are going to do this, please ask first.” is not a great sin.

I realize most bloggers don’t care much who reblogs their stuff, but I am a writer who blogs, as opposed to a blogger, and I own all of my own copyrights. If someone comes along who I do not know and they don’t leave a comment saying “This is wonderful. I love it, is it all right for me to share it on my blog?”, and they assume it’s ok to do so because there’s a Reblog button available to everyone, then I am going to respectfully ask that it be removed. I’m not being a bitch, I am encouraging others to be original, and I am asking them not to place what I have chosen to do somewhere else. Asking if you can share it is pretty much an automatic “Yes”, not asking me is going to make me angry. No one here was born yesterday, we all know about manners & decency. Moreover, I don’t care if it shows my blog as the originator, it still feels like plagiarism to me. That is the ultimate NO for all writers.

I was reblogged a handful of times over the last few weeks and I very kindly asked those people to ask me first before doing it, and to please take it down. I wasn’t rude, I wasn’t nasty. I know the difference between my words and the tone. I then receive an e-mail, as if I am some kind of idiot or small child, with a list of instructions on how to ward off idiots on social media. My hand to God, I had the HARDEST time not unleashing my wrath. It might still happen, except for the simple fact that I like to maintain my level professionalism, even when dealing with complete and utter morons.

Here’s the most important thing for people to know on any form of social media: If it’s public domain, do what you will. Tweets, photos, memes, they’re going to be all over the place, it’s a given. However, if there is a copyright on something, especially on a blog or writer’s platform, DON’T FUCKING ASSUME YOU CAN USE IT. Even if you don’t see a copyright posted, quickly ask the blogger, writer, creator, just in case. It is not beneath me, the writer, to issue a Cease & Desist. I’ve had to do it in the past to someone overseas who stole my work and my photos and declared all of it her own, and I will not hesitate to do it again. If you wouldn’t steal out of a person’s wallet on line at a store, why would you steal on the Internet? Again, if something is public domain, have at it, but if it’s not? Ask first, because good manners goes a long way with someone like me, and many other writers don’t take kindly to their work being stolen. Again, it is tantamount to plagiarism and for me, that puts you on my Bitch Slap list. There’s no nice way to say it.

I don’t reblog a lot of things. When I do, I tend to go to great lengths to ask whomever it is if it’s all right with them. If it is public domain, I issue credit to the person when I post it. If I post a quote, I make sure whomever the quote came from is credited. If I post a photo that is not my own, I do not remove any of the tags or copyrights that might be pending on the photo. I don’t Photoshop anything in an attempt to make it my own. I have rules and boundaries, and we all should.

I would rather be overly cautious and polite, than rude and presumptive. I realize that in this day and age, I am a rarity, but I’ve gotten this far with my ethos, so I’m not worried about continuing with this particular cycle.

You will, inevitably, encounter a lot of rude idiots on the Internet and all across the board on various social media platforms. I’m happy to say I will never be one of them.

© 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED