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LindaHilton

Linda Hilton

Reader, Writer, Merciless Reviewer and Incurable Romantic

 

Bots and Spammers are routinely purged.

Currently reading

Inventing a Christian America: The Myth of the Religious Founding
Steven K. Green
Progress: 67/328 pages
Significant Others
Sandra Kitt
Progress: 34 %
Democracy in Chains: The Deep History of the Radical Right's Stealth Plan for America
Nancy MacLean
Progress: 134/574 pages
The Secular Scripture: A Study of the Structure of Romance
Northrop Frye
Progress: 43/200 pages
All the President's Men
Carl Bernstein, Bob Woodward
Progress: 73/383 pages
Women's Gothic and Romantic Fiction: A Reference Guide (American Popular Culture)
Kay Mussell
Progress: 17/157 pages
The Looking-Glass Portrait
Linda Hilton
Really Neat Rocks: A casual introduction to the rocks & gems of Arizona and the lapidary arts
Linda Hilton
Progress: 61/61 pages
Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith
Jon Krakauer
The House of the Spirits
Isabel Allende

On being invisible

Tuesday night, I went with a friend and fellow artist to a meeting of another art group.  She had been with me last February when my own group exploded and essentially told me I'm not good enough for them.  So she invited me to join another group that she said was much more friendly, much more welcoming.

 

I had my doubts, but in the interest of her friendship and in an effort to fight off my own discouragement and cynicism, I agreed to go.

 

I deliberately wore a bright, bright green tee-shirt.  Surely someone would spot this bright green color, recognize that the person wearing it was a stranger, and they'd come to introduce themselves and welcome the stranger to the group.

 

My friend introduced me to one person, Suzanne.  Another woman introduced herself as Wilma and introduced me to Mike; both of them were sitting at our table.  The woman seated next to me introduced herself as Dorothy, but never introduced me to her companion who sat on her other side.  I never did learn his name.

 

At the front table the members all signed in and registered for various raffles.  There was a separate sign-in sheet for guests.  I signed the guest list.

 

In the course of the meeting, the VP never once welcomed the visitors.  He did not read off our names, ask what type of art we did, nothing.  Guests were not acknowledged at all.

 

When the three-hour meeting was over, I felt as if I'd not been there.

 

Wednesday morning, after that unpleasant experience, I went grocery shopping.  I had to get some items from the deli department, where two customers were ahead of me, one being waited on at the time and the other waiting to be waited on.  The sole person in the department took care of the first customer, then while he was slicing ham and liverwurst for the second lady, another woman walked up.  As soon as the second lady was done, the third woman just started placing her order.  Ham, turkey, baby swiss, beef bologna.

 

I think it was while he was slicing the bologna that yet another woman arrived, obviously friends with the beef bologna lady.  Or maybe not?  Maybe she just started conversations with whomever she encountered.  It didn't matter.  As soon as beef bologna lady was done, this fourth woman started her order.  Pastrami, salami, and a few slices of sandwich pepperoni.

 

Finally, there was no one else, and the clerk asked me what I wanted.

 

"Am I invisible?" I asked.

 

 

Last week, just prior to our rock hunting trip on Saturday, I had a brief and unpleasant experience online that pushed me to back off Twitter for a while.  Ironically, the incident didn't happen on Twitter, and the unpleasant person was swiftly dealt with.  But after the rock hunting trip and the work of cleaning up the rocks the following day and then a bunch of other stuff, I continued to stay away from Twitter.  It wasn't anything specific, but I felt as if there was a whole lot of negativity I was letting myself get dragged into, and I needed a little bit of a break.

 

Last night I checked in on Twitter and discovered some people had been asking about me, was I okay, was I still around.  I was enormously touched, indeed moved to tears then and again as I write this.

 

You made me feel visible again.

 

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

 

Happy Valentine's Day.