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Saturday, July 20, 2013

An aggressive woman

I really don't like it when people don't like me, or judge me about something I can't even imagine. I always notice when I'm ignored, dissed, or distanced. And I just can't tolerate it so I have to do something. For  instance if someone has a poor opinion of me or doesn't trust me the first thing I try to do is clarify the situation. Did I just imagine it? Did they really ignore me and turn their shoulders to exclude me? Clarifying  a "yes" like that does not make the situation any better. I try to be nice and friendly, sometimes  I make a joke. People who don't like you never think your jokes are funny, and people who don't like you never appreciate your friendly gestures. If someone quite unfairly dislikes you no matter how nice and perfectly wonderful you are it is very hard to change that. Especially if you can't accept it in the first place.


 That's one reason why people might think I'm aggressive woman: Because i press on despite unfavorable social conditions. That's seen as aggressive. Honestly  everyone is free to dislike me. Everyone is free to judge me however unfairly and if I can't accept this then I can't change it. It is really hard for a shy and timid person to be disliked. Especially because it is hard for me to reach out and be friendly in the first place. But I don't like to be ignored. 


So I got a new haircut yesterday I told the stylist that I had just had just been ignored and I wanted a haircut that would help me not to be ignored. This was difficult to say, and to admit to this new stylist who I've never seen before, but she didn't even blink. She piled up my hair up in the back and said we could make the angle a lot sharper by cutting it short or in the back, "see now you have a lot more going on back there." I gave her the okay. We even talked about adding a blue streak. I think I'll wait and see if haircut has any effect, and if need another boost I'll add the blue streak. 


The other reason people might think I'm an aggressive woman Is because I'm managing to accomplish many things great and small during my day in the face of many obstacles. I'm focused on my goals, whether it's picking up some milk, or getting an agent for my novel. I'm charging through life catching spilling milk as it falls and pressing the answer buzzer just in time for my little treat of accomplishment.  I've got my game but no one else is playing.


 I can get very angry when I'm ignored but I like to keep my cool, I don't want to make myself sick, that would ruin my game. So I bought this homeopathic spray for anger you just spray a couple sprays under your tongue and it is supposed to temporarily relieve symptoms of anger such as explosive outbursts, feelings of hostility, restless and irritability. It hasn't helped my irritability one bit. I'm not sure if it has helped as far as explosive outbursts are concerned either. I flipped out in the AT&T store Recently while trying to return this hotspot gizmo that was supposed to make it possible for us to have Internet in the yurt. It did not work with my older laptop though. And they wanted to charge me a $35.00 restocking fee! And even if I was willing to let them take advantage of me financially, they still insisted on sucking up all my time on this, my day off, in this dreadful AT&T store! This transaction was moving like molasses. That's how I ended up buying my ipad. i threw my credit card across the counter in angry frustration and had to go back around to the other side of the counter to find it. Oh my God i thought now i've gone and lost my credit card. I've flipped out in a Verizon store too. That was even worse, I was afraid the police would take me away, I would have a nervous break down, or both.  


But maybe it would have been worse if I hadn't taken a couple of anti anger sprays under the tongue earlier  that day.Who knows what might happened. The spray comes with a money back guarantee and you can bet I'm gonna call and ask for my money back. i totally can not let go of my anger about the fact that this homeopathic anger spray did not work.  


I was so angry that I hadn't read the directions on the bottle, or the little pamphlet inside the box. There was a list of questions and answers and one of the questions was "What is the worst thing I can do when taking a homeopathic medicine?" The answer to this was "not follow the directions. This is work you must spray twice under the tongue three times a day. You must be consistent about this over a period of time for it to work." 


 So just as I was right about to make the phone call for the money back guarantee I thought to myself maybe I should just try using it according to the directions. I sprayed twice under the tongue and made a note to myself to do this again at lunch and before bed. It's been three days now I'm not sure if it's working but I haven't had any major outbursts. I did dream last night though, that a friend of mine was having trouble with AT&T over the phone, and he said to them I think you better talk with Alice Eckles and handed the phone to me.

I bought this hat today. It's cheaper than skin cancer I rationalized.

Friday, July 19, 2013

Gallery G.

July 19 2013 update: The names have been changed because we don't have to remember these things forever.




I always wanted to go to that gallery. The only reason I wanted to go was because I tried to go there once and couldn't get in. There was no sign saying where it was. The only advertisement for that gallery was a postcard stuck in the arts walk brochure. I like to know about every gallery in town. So this one seemed mysterious, no sign at the door, no hours listed. I have to admit the postcards they put out did not really have very appealing art on them. It basically looks like a grey smear. So this Friday's art walk I found it. As the Middleburg Art walk brochure says: Look for the pink boot, more than 30 venues. It was in the marble works. I saw the black balloons. And then going closer I saw the pink boot. So I went in. 


It looks like a condo apartment building. The main door opens into a stark many doored hallway. I saw no sign of a gallery but another woman who looked like she was also looking for art just walked in. She is dressed in a black leather camisole a short black leather skirt with a shammy wrapped around it, and her body is painted and tattooed. She is young and beautiful and looks very familiar to me. 


"Are you looking for art too?" I said.


"Yes, hi Pam, you were my teacher." 


"Oh yes, hi."


"Do you still teach at Silverdale College?"


"No." I told her, and we did a little catching up with each other. 


We were still looking all over for the entrance of the gallery. When suddenly I noticed a postcard stuck on the bulletin board on the wall it was one of those grey smear gallery postcards with ballpoint pen scribbled across it reading "Gallery G. third-floor" There was elevator right next to the postcard but neither of us wanted to take the elevator. Turns out my former student was dressed that way because she's a fire dancer. She is going to dance with fire outside of the Kabob building across the 


parking lot from Crocodile Creek Used Books, that's where I'm going next to see her fire dance. So we ran up the stairs and end up almost in someone's apartment there's a little lobby first which is apparently part of the "gallery" I should mention at this point I'm about a foot shorter my student and I'm dressed in tan baggy silk shorts that come down to just above my knees and a blue cotton sleeveless collared shirt. For shoes I have blue dress crocs if there is such a thing as dress crocs. So we walk in together and the person who is obviously the host walks right over to my friend, my former student, introduces herself, begins to talk with her as if they're best friends, and offers her a nice cold drink. She completely ignores me. Even though I have been looking for this gallery for months and I am very thirsty. I cannot make eye contact with, her she always turns away. She is always talking to someone else. Even though I stare at her and move closer. I am really starting to get pissed off about how she's ignoring me.


 So I've had it I'm not gonna be treated like this I can at least get a drink. She is standing right by the drinks and yet doesn't offer me one or talk to me. So I take a nice glass just like my friend got and I start filling it up and I just keep ladling in more nice mint tea until my cup is full. And then since this woman is standing right next to me completely ignoring me, and I am trying to get her attention just to get the answers to some simple questions and just to feel like we are polite people living in the same town. So lightly with the back of my hand as if I was knocking on a door which I expected to be opened and which I didn't really need to knock at, I tapped her upper arm and said, "Are you the artist?"


She said, "No." And pointed to another woman "She's the artist I'm the gallery owner." 


She said, "It's open by appointment and on Friday Art Walk."


"What are the hours of this gallery?" I asked. 


"Oh." I said and took my drink and went to examine some of the artwork in some of the other rooms. I tried to enjoy myself looking at art disregarding how this woman was so rude to me. Trying not to let this interfere with my enjoyment of Friday art walk. Meanwhile, Josephine, that's what her name is although she didn't tell me her name she told my friend her name anyway meanwhile Josephine continues talking to people in suits and continues talking to my friend whenever but always she ignores me even though I'm standing right next to these people and even though  I came in with and left with this person that she's talking to constantly. Whatever.


As we left I guess we went down a floor too many and ended up in a very strange place, a small square room with doors everywhere but the kind of doors you really didn't want to open. "I really don't like to be in certain kinds of spaces." I confessed - then there to her - not only that I was really uncomfortable in this kind of weird space but also, "I am really pissed off at that woman for ignoring me."


"I know what you mean," she said, "atmospheres can be very invading. It was so pretentious up there. I really felt on the spot when one woman asked me why I was dressed like this, and what 'tribal' meant to me."


Now I felt like this woman who moments ago had been a former student who I didn't even recognize at first, now she felt like a friend. I felt a lot less insane for having confessed at how angry I was to be ignored. And why was I singled out to be ignored while other people were given attention? You know what? It is really very dangerous to ignore someone like me because at times like this I really understand Hitler. Hitler was an ignored artist, he painted little postcards. Maybe he wasn't a very good artist maybe he deserved to be ignored, but there's a cost to ignoring someone wants who attention!


And there is a certain amount  attention that everyone  deserves. If you don't give it to them there could be a war. What gets me is what a nice person I am. As I left I said, "Thanks!"and "bye" to Josephine, and you can bet she did not say it was nice meeting you. I don't know why I didn't just say fuck you. I'm not really good at cursing or expressing anger. I don't know if I'm really super bad at expressing anger, I'm not sure, but I definitely am not really good at cursing, but I could've given her the finger.


The thing is I find anger supremely embarrassing. Oh yes when you act out of anger you make this mark on your reputation that everybody remembers and it is not a good one, especially if you are a small woman who really shines best when she's just being nice. So it really pisses me off when my niceness is totally ignored and not rewarded in anyway what so ever.


So I have an unpublished novel out there. It kind of feels like my novel is being ignored. I mean it's not as bad as Josephine, but it's little things like being ignored by people like Rachel in a gallery that brings out the real anger about the important things, like my novel. It's not easy having an unpublished novel. I know it's not the worst thing in the world. I mean at least I've written a novel. A good novel.


Update: Most agents do not ignore my queries but answer them respectfully. I have interest from an agent and  I am revising with certain feedback in mind. The process of getting a first novel published the traditional way seems to be very long. Meanwhile we are busy building a honey house, and then a house to live in, and it seems my house on the islands has finally sold. I am getting used to long processes.