…I didn’t care what people thought. I didn’t think anyone was reading this blog and I felt free to write whatever the hell I pleased. Mostly, I talked about the days, the things that filled them, and the people who swerved in an out of my life. And then it happened, I wrote about work and my boss read it, tipped off by my “superior” – I use that term loosely. I was frustrated and heartbroken at being passed up for a job I’d earned. I didn’t name names and I was very vague about the incidents that occurred. At work, it became a HUGE issue and I had a serious talk with human resources about it. I was forced to apologize, made up a story about something or other, and eventually got off the hook after being threatened with termination. Truth is, they overreacted and were building a case to fire me by knit-picking and picking on me. I wasn’t easy to work with, you see. I didn’t kowtow to them and I didn’t let them to get away with bullshit. It cost me my job. In the end, however, it wasn’t the job for me and I’m happier now as a freelancer. I also don’t ever regret standing up to assholes, not matter what the outcome.

Since then, I’ve bit my tongue. Now that my blog is connected to a bigger world through Twitter and Facebook, the people I know can now easily find this blog. If I didn’t want anyone to read it, I wouldn’t link the hell out of it, would I? This also means that people I want to read the blog can find it, but so can people I don’t.

I suppose I can’t really blame Mary Fisher and Jonathan Meiners for my own self inflicted censorship. At least they got me thinking about what I write and who it affects. I was no longer able to let it all hang out and became concerned with pissing people off. Who had I let myself become? Someone who cared what people think? That’s not me.

As kids came into my life, I censored myself a bit more, thinking they might stumble onto my blog and learn a few curse words; not that they didn’t already know curse words. I also didn’t want my now-husband’s family to think I was uncouth. Except, I am a bit uncouth. I curse like a sailor and I read Charles Bukowski. I write what’s on my mind as it comes into my mind. I don’t plan, I just write. I log in and whatever comes out, comes out. Or…that’s how it used to be, anyway.

I contradict myself. I am uncouth, but I am also gentile and fancy. I used to like the way I wrote. I took my lessons from Bukowski and Salinger; the two Ryes – “Ham on…” and “Catcher in the…”. I wanted to be eloquent, sweet, charming and a bit of artistic foul.

Jerky bosses and the clean minds of small children.

I used to date a guy who made me cry all the time. One night he said, “I’m not making you cry, you’re making yourself cry” I argued that no, indeed, he was making me cry. It wasn’t until years later that I understood what he meant. What he meant was that I controlled how things affected me. If someone called me an asshole, it was my choice to get upset. I could also call them an asshole right back. It was me choosing to react a certain way; not one person (besides me) controls how I feel. Now, not to say that mean boyfriends don’t have some effect on our emotions, but how we react is what matters. Let’s face it, I was probably crying to make him feel bad about the way he treated me.

On occasion, people say things that make me cry, but it’s always my choice to cry or not. I realized that life isn’t about what other people do to me, it’s how I react. If some fuckhead boss makes my life hell, I have options. Those options aren’t always clear, but in the end, what I do in relation to those heinous acts is my doing.

I chose to censor myself. Who I am and what I write is in direct correlation to who I decide to be and what I choose to write. It’s all on me. So, do I worry about pissing people off? Sure I do. Do I worry about hurting people’s feelings? You bet. Should I let that stop me from doing what I want to do? Well…let me get back to you on that one. This does not mean I give myself free license to say whatever I want despite who it hurts. I’m not that kind of person anyway. I don’t enjoy hurting people’s feelings.

This gets confusing when I stop to think about it. To be free and speak my mind, I must also censor myself to some extent. If my husband is acting like a jerk, it’s probably not a good idea to tear him a new one in front of the whole world. Those conversations are best left to private discussions – the way they’ve always been. I suppose it becomes an issue of respect. I respect my husband and his feelings. I care about him and saying he’s a jerk online probably wouldn’t make him feel good. Also, he’s not a jerk. If he was, I suppose I wouldn’t care either way. He is, in fact, a pretty sweet guy and I love him a lot.

So there…choices but on a case by case basis. Censorship and free will, with respect for my friends and loved ones. I guess it’s always been like that, but I can’t be afraid to cuss or complain about a hard day. Oh, and I also can’t complain about my clients. That would be bad.

With so many people to consider, whats the point, you may ask? Do the really bold writers worry about what their wives will say or do they just say it and take the consequences? It’s obvious that Bukowski didn’t give a shit what anyone said and he died a drunk. He was also a poet. There are always repercussions, I guess. Any writer must face the fact that not everyone will agree with them. My objective isn’t to alienate myself, but to get things off my chest…in a way that doesn’t hurt anyone? I can’t promise anything. Let’s just say I’ll try.

And this isn’t the first time this has happened. A few months ago, I was hired to shoot a Fall catalog for a small clothing company called IDI. They hired me. I was hired. I spoke with Melissa (several times) and another person named Richard, who confirmed I was hired. I even booked models per their request. I kept them updated every step of the way and waited to hear back. A week passed. I called the company and inquired about the shoot. A receptionist informed me that the shoot had already taken place and they had used another photographer. When I complained to Melissa, she told me that they never actually made a commitment to use me and that they were waiting for ME to get in touch with them. In fact, she acted as though I were imaging they hired me. Because everything had taken place over the phone, I didn’t actually have any proof. Now, I’m not sure why they went ahead without me after verbally committing, but it doesn’t matter. They should have let me know. I even complained to the head of the company who treated me like a nuisance. Later, just to be a bitch, I sent them an invoice for my lost time. Obviously, they never paid me.

Needless to say, in this, the age of communication, why do people find it difficult to communicate? How hard is it to send a one line email that states you’ve changed your mind? Furthermore, if you actually hire someone and end up not being able to commit, it’s only common courtesy to let that person know. What these inconsiderate assholes don’t understand is that they’ve hung me out to dry. I book the time, I hire talent, I set aside time, I prepare, I make plans, I lose money. I shouldn’t have to say it, but it’s rude and unprofessional. It’s just plain rude. If you make plans and can’t keep them, have the decency to cancel! It’s never OK to make someone wait, to put them out, or upset their schedule. I’m a human being and I think I deserve better. I realize that you’re busy, but it literally takes two seconds to send an email. There really is no excuse for ignoring someone you’ve hired to do a job. Besides the fact that I was really looking forward to each of these jobs, there is of course, the big let down.

Now, I understand things happen. Maybe the head of the clothing company promised his cousin he could have the job. Maybe the wedding got canceled. Thing is, I don’t know. All I have to go on is silence. To ignore someone as though they are insignificant? Why do people do this? I could answer this question simply by expressing that people are assholes. But I just don’t get it. I really try to reply to all the email I receive. I know what it’s like to be on the other end. I ignore the occasional email, but if I’ve made a commitment to someone and can’t keep it, I apologize left and right. I let them know I’m sorry and I try to make it up to them. I hate letting people down, even if I don’t know them. It’s just not cool to treat people like dirt. They should be ashamed of themselves.

I guess the internet makes it easy. There was a time when people RSVP’d for parties by hand written letter, when it was considered impolite to ignore a written request, when your word was your bond. In this day and age, people are just screen names and common courtesy just isn’t that common anymore.

I’m currently working on TWO shoots for this weekend. Back to back. One on Saturday, one on Sunday. Two days, 14 models, two different companies/designers, two locations, about 50 pieces of clothing. Wow. I’m very excited and I have to say that it certainly feels that like, after 6 months post-Hot Topic, I’m finally starting to roll in some business. I feel good. I’m working hard. I’m having a hard time sleeping for the excitement. I’m up all night doing stuff, looking for models, thinking about things. Coffee keeps me alive.

This is what I do. Finally.