{"id":756,"date":"2008-12-23T22:05:10","date_gmt":"2008-12-24T02:05:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/?p=756"},"modified":"2008-12-25T03:01:03","modified_gmt":"2008-12-25T07:01:03","slug":"festivus-2008","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/?p=756","title":{"rendered":"Festivus 2008"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"December 23, 2008
\nTuesday<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

It is Festivus, the Seinfeld-<\/em>created “holiday for the rest of us” and its airing of grievances that\u00c2\u00a0can provide\u00c2\u00a0a bit of silliness among all the earnest good will. Last week I mentioned that I thought I’d been spending too\u00c2\u00a0much time thinking about just which grievance to air. I have settled on one. It repeats my pattern of recalling a hurt someone dealt me (perhaps unwittingly) and my failure or refusal or inability to tell them about it at the time.<\/p>\n

This one builds on the tale\u00c2\u00a0reported in\u00c2\u00a02006<\/a> about the boyfriend who dumped me by ceasing to speak to me. Since we saw each other every day at work, and the new girlfriend was his department’s clerical aide, this made for awkward moments and difficult emotions.<\/p>\n

All of the academic departments had aides in those days. They typed tests for us and did mimeographing and performed other assorted tasks that I can’t remember the details of now. The new girlfriend brought my ex-boyfriend his mail every morning, but I never asked anybody to do that for me. In fact I’m not sure I ever asked\u00c2\u00a0my department’s aide\u00c2\u00a0to do much for me. The duties covered by her job description were just not things I had a need for, partly because I was too scattered to ask far enough in advance to have these things done, and partly because I just didn’t work that way. I didn’t know her well and I really didn’t have much interaction with her.<\/p>\n

That year, my free period, the time when I didn’t have a class but had to be out of my classroom because a health class was meeting there, coincided with the morning break time of my department’s aide and another one. A few weeks after my emergence from cluelessness and my sudden and painful knowledge that my relationship was over and I had been replaced, I began to notice that whenever I came into the faculty room when Doris (that’s what we’ll call her, because, well, that was her name) would begin talking animatedly to her friend about how happy my old boyfriend and his new gal pal were. She’d talk about where they went and the things they did, how well he seemed to get along with his new friend’s four-year-old, what a good father he would be if that little girl would acquire some half-siblings.<\/p>\n

And as the weeks went on it became very clear that she was doing that for my benefit, so that I would hear it and take notice. It was painful for me, so much so that I took to\u00c2\u00a0going to\u00c2\u00a0the library to avoid being in the same room with her, or even getting in my car and riding around the small town the school was in, stopping at the 7-11 for a pack (or two) of Lorna Doones to stuff into myself as comfort food. (I gained thirteen pounds that year.)<\/p>\n

When Christmas time came I avoided contributing to the department gift for Doris. I thought no one would notice, but someone did, and he went around telling other teachers how petty and mean-spirited I was. He was right, of course. It was<\/strong> petty and mean-spirited. But I was hurt, and suffering, and feeling very very sorry for myself. I don’t know what motivated Doris to be so mean to me. Maybe I had committed an unintentional offense, maybe she just didn’t like me. Thirty-six years later I regret my pettiness. And I hope whatever Doris bought with the gift certificate I didn’t contribute to brought her happiness.<\/p>\n

*********<\/p>\n

A year ago<\/a>,<\/em> I wrote about how my first workshop leader at Bread Loaf treated me badly.<\/p>\n

Two years ago<\/a>, I wrote about the less than gentle way a man I’d been\u00c2\u00a0in a relationship with\u00c2\u00a0for two years broke up with me.<\/p>\n

Three years ago<\/a>, I wrote about how someone disparaged my spiritual identification.<\/p>\n

Four years ago<\/a>, I didn’t air a grievance, but reported doing a good deed. And reading it to compile these links was refreshing!<\/p>\n

\u00c2\u00a0<\/p>\n

To be included on the notify list, e-mail me:
\nmargaretdeangelis [at] gmail [dot] com (replace the brackets with @ and a period)<\/em><\/p>\n


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