Have you ever encountered someone who no matter how much you try, exercise patience, or attempt to establish a good working relationship, you simply cannot. Because of factors, beyond your control or influence, someone is simply difficult and uncooperative no matter what strategies you employ? That's where I find myself today. I'm in that non-working work relationship with an individual who, for reasons unknown to me is antagonistic and combative at every turn. It started this summer at the farmer's market where we vend our farm wares. She's a lovely soul with an aspiring small business and last summer was her first time vending alongside us at the market. It started off innocent enough with a small interaction where I was in the middle of the sentence when she, without any kind of hint or indicator of what was about to happen next, simply turned her back on me and started talking to someone else. We have a practice at the market that we give one another our ears fully when someone is speaking. It was the first time I had taken any opportunity to try to get to know this newer vendor. It was shocking to me then and it's still shocking to me now that another human would be so okay with simply turning and walking away while I was midsentence. I forgave her for the misstep immediately. I chalked it up to "Customers come first" and regarded the interaction as one of commerce, not community. The problem is, that I am part of the community too. Even as a vendor, my money still talks, and my purchases, I would hope, should, and do matter to the vendors when I am shopping their market stand. She apologized swiftly and called herself an "asshole" for the way she treated me. I dismissed her remark and assured her that customers do come first and I felt that it was important for her to give her complete attention to her market stand. Still, the interaction left a mark on my soul and I would later regret dismissing her "asshole" remark so swiftly. In time, she would prove her assholery and confirm for me and my husband that yes, indeed she was acting like an asshole. It's the little things that add up the biggest. When it was time for us to harvest beets, I clipped the greens, bundled them and began posting them for sale on several pages to get the word out that we had amazing, delicious greens available for local pickup or delivery. Before the market ended for the season, this other vendor had mentioned she had started a new group on Facebook and she was so excited that we would be able to use it to advertise for our farms. I was excited too. This was a tangible outlet that would put us front and center before our client base and let them know we had fresh products for them year-round, even when the market wasn't in session. I headed straight over to the new group and made my posting. Satisfied I had done all to reach my client base. The next day my posting was deleted and there was a note attached explaining there were no advertising posts allowed in the group. I was astonished; especially because I could see other posts by other market vendors that had been allowed to remain intact and left up for the community to read. Mine was gone having violated some esoteric new rule that had instantly been imposed the moment I tried to advertise for our farm. We were headed out of town for a small vacation we had planned and I really didn't want to taint my experience by trifling with an individual who was a self-declared asshole and had taken the opportunity to begin deleting my farm advertisements. It simply wasn't worth the hassle. I left the group until I could return from vacation and deal with this incident more professionally. I wasn't given that opportunity as the moment she saw I had abandoned her new passion project, she filled my inbox with a large paragraph of justification. Smelling the assholery wafting from line after line of the paragraph, I blocked her. This was getting ridiculous and out of hand. I went on vacation and forgot about herThe vacation away was lovely. I don't recall one time thinking or discussing the altercation with the other vendor. I didn't say anything to the Market Manager or the other vendors I was friends with. I remained silent and just ate the incident and largely forgot about it. Until we had our annual Christmas party, I hadn't given it another thought. It was then that I remembered the interaction and wondered what the holiday celebration would be like. She wouldn't attend. She didn't come. She begged off at the last moment and there would be no fixing or amending the infraction of being overly intrusive into our farm's marketing. I'm not the sort of individual to carry harm or hold them as I find they are corrosive to my soul. I have more pressing concerns than an overly punitive market vendor who has some hidden agenda I cannot see. The incident would go completely unresolved. At the party, there was light discussion concerning the other vendor and when pressed I mentioned the slight of deleting my advertising and then sending me a paragraph in my inbox. She did not remain blocked as I unblocked her as soon as I returned home. She isn't blocked now, as we don't interact enough for her to remain blocked. She simply wasn't a concern to me. I didn't want to involve the market manager or the other vendors. It just felt trite. Until yesterday. My name is my name. It's been my name for almost ten years now. I've gone by Mari or Marihemp officially since 2015 and unofficially since 2000. Most people who are regularly associated with me know the proper pronunciation and spelling of my name. Not this one. This individual who now is actively trifling with us called me "Meri" in her public forum. Then she proceeded to leave my husband off entirely as if he simply didn't exist and she spelled my farm name wrong. I get the farm name being wrong as we played with names over the years until we settled firmly on the Cloverleaf Farms DC. We added plurality along the way and at one point finally added the "DC" to distinguish us from the myriad of other Cloverleaf Farms the world has to offer. However, leaving off Paul as a co-owner of the farm is simply bad form and playing games. I don't like these sorts of games and set out to amend these errors and get the correct information out to the community. I messaged the market manager promptly and requested that the information being shared online be updated to reflect reality. To that I might add, the information regarding farm ownership and the name of the farm was eventually updated correctly. It's still frustrating. I abhor dealing with someone who is constantly in conflict with those around them and then behaves as if they are gracious, kind, and thoughtful. She is not. While I was on vacation, I missed her tirade that followed because I had her blocked and was out of town and couldn't see her shenanigans. After sending her sentence-laden paragraph to my uninterested inbox, she started posting a long and tirade-filled list of rules regarding the posting of advertisements in the group. By the time I returned and unblocked her, her rules post had over a hundred comments. It was a hot issue and turned out everyone in town had something to say. I was glad I missed it entirely. I was glad I didn't see it occurring when it occurred. After all, I had advertised in the group because she told me was okay to do so. Drama. Drama. Drama. One can only handle so much and I am just not that into combative types who say one thing one moment and in a mercurial fashion change their mind to suit the situation. I would not rejoin the group but I would keep a watchful eye on things. To this date other vendors post advertisements and I've never gotten an apology for being singled out and excluded. Excluded. She excluded me when she indicated I was included. This is a lie. To say to someone's face "We are going to do this thing" and when I step up to do the thing and get told "Not you" that's exclusion. Exclusion is so fucking ugly it's ridiculous. I'm truly fed up, dismayed, and discouraged that this individual thinks it's okay to treat people in this fashion. Do I forgive her? No way. I'm at a stage where forgiveness will come after a season of improved behavior and changed attitudes toward those who are in a position to be aligned in business. I simply will not be entertaining this soul in the coming market season. I will be too busy for this sort of fuckery of exclusion. We have worked so hard to get to this market. After sampling a variety of markets we picked this one for a reason. We discussed quitting and it's not a choice we are making. We are not quitting. But we are quitting this person. We've already decided we're done with her. I have no more of my soul available for mistreatment. If others pretend to advocate for us and then make every effort to get it entirely wrong, they aren't really making an effort. Savvy?
She's too close to see if for herselfFirst off, I'm going to begin by addressing Margot directly. My beautiful, dear, sweet, fantastic Barbie, you did very well. We saw what they made you do. How they made themselves look. How they paraded themselves before you showing us all constantly that representation was never going to exist. We saw Will Ferrell's big face as Mr. Big and knew by the testosterone air sample in that scene that they were sending a very direct and not hidden message at all to our children. Not just our girls, but our children. Regardless of the accuracy and sublimacy of which you portayed everyone's favorite beloved iconic doll, the movie sadly wasn't that much about you, her. You, Margot deserved more than just a nod or nomination, you deserve the gold statue dearest, you do. And for all of us out here who love Barbie and you by osmosis, we can see you were robbed. To Kate. I love you. And fuck what they did to you and then ignored you as well. It's beyond my capacity as a sentient being on this planet how a movie for women, made with women, wasn't actually about women and now you too, too close to see, are also robbed. I'm sorry Hollywood is full of shitheals who hate women enough to give a man an award for a women's movie. I know it pales to soothe, but in kind, we had a women's march here and the male run press completely ignored us. I mean, completely. To all, I guess I'm not surprised the testosterone fueled Hollywood elites would play it this way. Disregard the women the movie was craving to represent but failed at miserably. My best friend loved it, so for her, I loved it too. Then I loved it for the actresses. Then I loved it for the costuming. But no fellas. There wasn't one moment for me during the "male review" where they dominated the stage and tried to eek out a spectacular dance number that would attempt to rival Grease's, "Beauty School Dropout." I dropped out. I didn't like the movie. When I sat in my seat at the theater, I didn't applaud at the end like I did for the new Color Purple! Which I might add, John Baptiste who is winning awards like crazy, never once stood up and took over from Shug. Notta once. Instead, he sat and played while Shug sang. I tell you what, Ken needed to not be in this movie so much. Ken needed to shut up more. NOT LESS. Ken and his harmy of fucking Kens dominated. DOMINATED! Plainly stated, in spite of all our favorite actresses best efforts, Barbie was a movie about Ken. How do we know? Ryan got the nomination. Again, I'm boycotting these awards. They are tone deaf and can't understand that the world is solidly being run by women. Open your damn eyes. I can't support an awards show that can't recognize who's in power. No, but go on with your bad selves giving dudes nominations for female empowerment movies. go on I'm more than a "little" pissed!it might be more than oneI've decided that for Self Preservation I'm making one small change. I guess I'm not insisting the rest of the world comply, that would be vastly arrogant. So if you're reading this, what you read in my college paper isn't a typo. I wrote it that way on purpose, added the new word to my dictionary and for humor-me sake, I ask you to add it to yours. Now, going the one step further and incorporating my suggestion into your world, that would be lovely, but not necessary. The decision is yours either way. My first colloquial language edit is to replace the "c" in most words that has an ess (S) sound. Words like practise, avarise and the like. I am not touching words that end with "ace" as I will be leaving Ace to itself. Translation of ace to ase crosses a cultural appropriation boundary that I'm not willing to bridge at this time. Another wordsmith is welcome to take that plunge and I will follow that suit when it presents. Without going into too much defending of my chosen position, I will simply refer you to other languages and surmise that my comfort level is here. This is how I'm choosing to represent myself in language. I anticipate this will continue to shift. *inserting room to grow*
Looking back is for others. It's a practice that I was specifically taught in the urban villages I found myself, not to partake in. To look back, or to allow others who are not engaged in everyday life with you, is to lend your energy to people who might not be worthy to receive your attention. I was trained by church elders that we never turn our heads to the left or to the right until we are prepared to engage. If we don't wish to engage, do not turn your head. For anyone. Ever. I was trained by my elder circle that my energy was precious. It was necessary to guard my energy and not freely give others access to parts of your soul that are reserved for ourselves, our circle or our community. Out of the corner of my eye, |
It's weird that hollywood can't tell we all stopped watching. Nobody has time for those antics anymore. We're all staying busy and clever and figuring out how to feed ourselves. It's weird that they still talk to us like we ever admired them in the first place. Who admires someone with only a big butt, weird plastic surgery faces and no vocabulary? Well, less power to them and more awakening. If this is your first time reading I invite you to start at the very beginning of the blog in Self Surgery Theater. You will find it most illuminating. | This is a blog of love. A love of people who are next door to me. Love of people at the drive-in, the bank, the grocery store... none of which I get to go to nearly as much as I used to visit. I can't go to my local eatery, pub or even church like I once did. But you, YOU WHO HAS IT ALL... needs a trophy. Well, good for you. I hope it keeps you feed through the weird winters coming. I know we're ready. Our fingernails are very dirty. And... just so you're aware, like we're not invited to your starvation drug parties y'all throw, you're not invited to our lavish whatevers we'll be doing without you. |
I've been haunted as of late. Not in the traditional style of ghosts, ghouls and creeps. Though we can admit social media has it's share of creeps. No. I'm talking a different kind of haunting. The kind where images stick with you for a spell. You get someone's name stuck in the mire that is the center of your brain. One of those kinds of hauntings. The hauntings that follow me to the field and fill my head with thoughts of people I've never, and most likely never will meet. Strangers, as you will. But still members, extended family if you will of a larger community. |
I was gifted the opportunity to get a peek and share a few remarks about the Cannabis Art Guild's new Haunted Exhibit. Had I more time I would have enjoyed the updates, but at this writing being midharvest I had to go where I could and trust the other bloggers to fill in where I'd left off. That's the beautiful part about the collaborative nature of this exhibit. While we all have our grower's, producer's, creator's ego in which we must flourish. No other community is capable to stand hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder and bring together the collective soul (yes I said it) that is Us. |
She is me.
And if you know.
You probably REALLY know.
You know?
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