A first impression goes both ways

I had yet another interview today (number six, I believe). First impressions go a long way, so I diligently prepared myself to make the best one.

I wore my new striped black pants, a red dressy blouse with my new black professional jacket coat to go over it, along with my new pair of black heels that resemble more of a slight boot look than conventional high heels. In other words, I was looking confident and distinguished. I looked so businesslike that I felt like an attorney or someone who could win a court case based on appearance alone, hands down. I've been on so many interviews the last few months than over the course of my lifetime (or so it seems) that it's become second nature to me...I rarely get nervous or flustered. I have mastered the art of interviewing. This is why when I went to today's interview, I felt more like I was the interviewer who was sizing up everything solely on first impressions. Maybe I just caught them on an 'off' day or something, but the whole scenario felt like a challenge in communication, or more aptly MIS-communication.

Rounding the corner of the modest brick building with umbrella in my left hand and purse on my right arm, I walk up to the entrance door. There is a sign that says the doors are locked, encouraging visitors to push the button/ring the bell. I push it. The receptionist appears around the corner from the left side and opens the door for me. I tell her I have a 1:00 interview with Carol (yeah, the irony!). She tells me to have a seat, that Carol will be here shortly and is currently in a meeting. It is 12:45pm at this point. I like to arrive early (my attempt at a good impression, and I'm a punctual person in general anyway).

I comply, asking her if I need to fill out an application while I wait. She looks at me quizzically, hesitantly.
Her: "Noooo...I don't think so. Are you applying for an internship?" (Even dressed professionally looking like I am on my way to court, I still get mistaken for a youngster...good times!)

Me: "No, I'm applying for the full-time child/family therapist position."

Her: (mumbles a bit)..."Oh. No...." (I didn't need to fill out an application)

O. K. ....

I notice it's very quiet in the receptionist/waiting area. The phone may ring once in awhile and there's a bit of activity with employees walking in and out, but otherwise nothing. I look around me for entertainment to pass the time. No magazines. What? An agency without magazines is like a dentist's office without toothpaste. I look around for something, anything! I get so desperate that I actually look to the wall behind me, on it rests a white binder housing the contents of Medicaid information. Yes, it speaks to my desperation. I grab it and give it a look. I open it only far enough to notice there are multiple copies of the same information printed in multiple languages. That's as exciting as it gets, so I put the binder back in its place.

I listen to the intoxicating conversation between receptionist lady and short haired lady. Scenario one with aforementioned individuals involves short haired lady telling receptionist lady how she forgot to put a nametag on her leftovers in the refrigerator and regretfully, a kid ate it. "You know, it's all up for grabs!" Five minutes later, short haired lady comes back out to proudly display her 'fun bag.' I couldn't see the bag because the counter was in the way of where I was seated. All I could see was the long, thick brown messenger bag-like strap. "It's just for fun...a fun bag."

Receptionist lady says "You know what it smells like? It reminds me of when I was a kid and you'd get a new doll...."

Huh? Lively conversation at this agency. I could come up with more exciting material with Manuela and Carol. Geez. Give me some better entertainment to eavesdrop on ladies.

From the way short haired lady made it sound, I'm expecting like a silly (or 'fun') Betty Boop or Hello Kitty bag to be seen on her shoulder as she comes into my plain sight, rounding the corner to get her lunch since the kid ate her leftovers in the fridge. But no, it looks like a bag you'd find at Urban Outfitters...certainly not conservative looking, but definitely not fun: a leather white messenger bag, with yellowish green flowers on it. Nothing that makes me laugh or immediately think 'fun bag.'

That took up about 8 minutes of my distraction time. She calls to see if the woman is out of her meeting. By this point, it is now 1:15pm. I'm starting to get annoyed. My first impression is not boding well thus far. Finally, I'm told to walk upstairs to the second floor where Carol will meet me at the top of the stairs. I suddenly feel like I'm on "Mission Impossible." (This message will self-destruct in five seconds!) When I reach the top, I'm met by Carol and another lady whose name I cannot properly pronounce or spell so I won't even try. I put on a happy face, shake their hands, make introductions. They are pleasant and befuddled.

"We weren't sure if you were coming or not because we didn't get a confirmation call."

I pause and now I'm the one who is befuddled. "Oh....I didn't know I was supposed to call to confirm." (We set a date and time during the initial phone call, during which there was no mention of any confirmation requests). Strike 2 for first impressions, or lack thereof in the communication department. But whatever. Let the show carry on.

Carol tells me to take a seat in her toy strewn and child friendly office. As I approach the armchair, Carol notices there is a rubber snake laying on the seat, playfully apologizes, and flings it on the bookshelf behind her. That was pretty funny actually.

From then on, it was a fairly normal and informal interview. It wasn't that long though, after all that waiting. She didn't even remember whether she had talked to me or if she had left a message on my voicemail. I told her we talked briefly for a minute or two and then she referred me to the website to find out more information about the agency. And I thought MY memory was bad....

20 minutes later, after there were no more questions or comments between the three of us, they tell me that they will be interviewing a few other people and will call me back if they decide to set up a second interview.

What does a first impression indicate when I find myself more interested in writing a blog about them than working for them?

Hmmm.

Road rage and driving habits

We've all heard it. Those who drive slower than us are idiots. Those who drive faster than us are MANIACS. Those of us who feel this way are (naturally) the best and only best drivers on the road. Insert clever witticism here.

But it also seems that driving habits vary depending on where one lives. Anyone who has ever traveled via a road trip or lived in more than one state in their lives might be able to attest to this. Massachusetts is notorious for aggressive drivers who tend to make the road their own personal terrain, honking excessively or riding your ass if you don't drive at the same pace as them. Florida has its fair share of elderly people driving on the highway that could cause an accident due to their lack of driving speed. Chicago, Illinois has many drivers who have (or nearly have) caused hit and run accidents from nearly hitting pedestrians just so they can make it through a red light. And then we have Washington, the state of 'constipated' drivers as my mother likes to call them. I thought she was crazy when she came up with this descriptive term, but upon further observation, she's right. It takes them all day to turn when there's clearly no one approaching from more than half a mile away and they tend to leave alot of space between themselves and the car in front of them.

It made me wonder if driving habits are a reflection of the overall personality of the people in any given region. Perhaps people are so laidback in Washington that it carries over into their driving. Chicago is a very friendly albeit fast-paced city, so of course it would make sense that people are always in a rush to get somewhere.

Of course, I realize this is a very broad generalization...but it has to make you wonder.

What do you like best about birthdays?

My mom and I were just talking about birthdays yesterday. She felt that celebrating a birthday should be more about the mother who gave birth to the person rather than about the person who was born. I disagreed with her. Well, that's not true. I agreed with her to an extent, that celebrating a birthday should INCLUDE the mother since she was obviously the one who put in all the blood, sweat, and tears of childbirth....but I also feel that it is important for individuals to have a day to celebrate their living existence, just for being who they are without it being attached to some kind of social role or encouraged formal celebration(Mother's Day, Father's Day, Valentine's Day, wedding, baby shower, graduation,etc).

So with that said, what I like best about birthdays is spending quality time with those I love and those who love me. I think when I was younger I used to have high expectations, build a birthday celebration up to something unattainably joyful, thus I was frequently disappointed. The past five years though, it's the little things that make me happy: an unexpected phone call, email, or thoughtful gift letting me know I'm loved even when I may not always be reminded of it on a daily, weekly, or even monthly basis. It's also fun to think of something different to do on my birthday, like taking an adventurous trip to snowcovered waterfalls in the middle of nowhere with two of my closest friends. It's those memories that make birthdays the best. Birthdays also have a way of instilling self-reflection, how far I've grown (in all ways) as a person as well as how far I have yet to go!

Personality assessment

I just took a self-assessed personality type survey on a dating website. The results (below) of this assessment are interesting and surprisingly (creepily?) accurate....

Agreeableness:
You are best described as usually taking care of others.
Words that describe you: understanding, unquestioning, humane, selfless, gentle, kindhearted, gullible, indulgent.

How you generally interact with others: Here's one important truth about you: you have a tender heart. Yes, you know that others need to learn to take care of themselves. Yes, you know they need to accept the consequences of their foolish or bad behavior. And sometimes, even when your instinct is to help them, you will let them fend for themselves and let them suffer the consequences of their choices or circumstances.

But most of the time you are there to help when they need you. If they are in trouble, you offer compassion and go out of your way to be helpful. If they need someone who will listen, you are trustworthy and sympathetic. And you are direct with them; when they need advice or counsel, you offer it in a straightforward, direct manner, without beating around the bush.

You're also smart enough to know that you cannot take good care of others if you fail to take good care of yourself, so you listen to your own wants and needs. If you've run out of sympathetic energy, you spend time restoring yourself. If you've ignored your own pain or frustration, you find a friend who will listen well, or go into your own private healing place and give yourself permission to focus on you.

But before long, you're back at it with your friends, offering a sympathetic ear and compassion on which they learn to trust, also giving straightforward advice and counsel when they ask for it. You do know how to take care of yourself, but your genuine interest is in taking care of others.

Negative reactions others may have toward you: Selfish people might be embarrassed by you. While they're using their time and energy almost exclusively on themselves, they see you giving time to others, and your kindness puts them in a bad light.

Maybe they'll think you're a phony, that you use your altruism to get others indebted to you so they'll then owe you a favor. Or perhaps they'll accuse you, directly or behind your back, of focusing on the needs of others so no one ever focuses on your foibles or your genuine wounds.

All of these are false accusations; yours is a genuine compassion, because you truly have a tender heart. One criticism might be more substantial, though. People might notice when you let things get out of balance and spend so much time responding to others that you neglect your own needs.

Perhaps it's true to some extent that you are more comfortable when the focus is on someone else's needs than when you and your needs are front and center, and this may be a criticism worth paying attention to.

Positive responses others may have toward you: Positive responses to you are likely to far outweigh negative responses. For many people, your genuine kindness will be an example of a way to treat others and a way we want others to treat us. They will see in you the traits of compassion and sympathy which they might want to focus on in the development of their own character.

For those people you help you will be the friend they need, there at the right moment to help them when they've stepped into yet another thicket of pain or confusion. They will be grateful for your listening, for your straight talk when they need straight talk more than anything, and for the hand you extend so they can find their way, with your help, out of whatever tangle they've gotten themselves into.

Openness: You are curious.
Words that describe you: original, inventive, thinker, brave, eccentric, avant-garde, out-of-touch, unique.

How you generally approach new information and experiences: You think like an artist. Or better, you SEE like an artist. While most people look at life's straight lines, its height and depth and width, you're bending the lines with your imagination and turning black and white into shades of blue and yellow. And in conversations at work or with your friends you want to ask, "Do you see what I see?" A few might, most don't, but you've piqued everyone's curiosity with your own original and inventive ways of thinking.

You can, if you must, think in conventional ways. But left on your own, you'll usually opt for the eccentric or avant-garde; in fact you're usually bored with what everyone else is comfortable with. You learn from reading, talking, watching people and other fauna and flora, and simply sitting in the soft chair of your mind and wondering how people would learn how to count if they could only use uneven numbers. You are out in front of conventional ideas, bravely originally defining true and false, right and wrong, the good, the bad and the ugly.

Negative reactions people might have of your way of thinking: You drive through life faster than the speed limit, and when you hit speed bumps, and you hit a lot of them with your mind distracted from the straight line ahead your wheels leave the ground.

For people who like life at a safer speed, you move too fast and lose touch too often with the solid ground they prefer, hence their discomfort with you. As odd as you might find this, many people feel safe in the shelter of the world they already know. They like the familiar. They breathe easily and sleep deeply knowing with more certainty how the world works. So although they might enjoy your company and be curious about your latest notion of how to count backwards by threes, they can only take you in small doses. And they wish you'd quit trying to push the boundaries of their personal and social cosmos.

Positive responses: Even those whom you make uncomfortable know, as just about everyone does, that you're not a flake. You think well, and even your wildest fancies have their roots in the deep soil of sound ideas and tested beliefs. So even if some people don't want to drive at high speed with you, they will respect you for your courage as an innovative and unconventional thinker. You lend color and imagination to what would otherwise be the straight black and white lines of their work world and social environments.

A few more daring people of your circle might even learn from you to take a risk they would otherwise never consider. As comfortable as they are on solid ground, they may be curious about what it would be like to go faster than the speed limit, or paint the living room two shades of blue, or question ideas or beliefs they've fingered like sacred beads since they were children.

After all, they watch you do it, and you seem no worse for the risks you take. In fact, your eyes are wider and your breath quicker, and maybe they can find at least a bit of this for themselves. To be certain, they don't want their wheels to leave the ground, but maybe the next time they approach a speed bump they might just brace themselves and speed up just a little bit.

Emotional Stability: Sometimes steady, sometimes responsive.
Words to describe you: adaptable, engaged, able to cope, passionate, perceptive, flexible, receptive, aware, avid.

Your reactivity: In some ways, you've got the best of emotional worlds. When emotions rise up from inside you or are brought forth from a conversation by a friend, you know how to engage them. You deal with sadness, fear, joy, anger - whatever comes up - in ways that are perceptive and flexible. You can adapt to whatever level of emotion is appropriate to the moment. At other times, you are able to cope with your emotions in a more reserved manner. Because you are aware of what does and does not make emotional sense in a particular situation, you will decide when it is an appropriate time to express your emotions and when it would be best to keep them to yourself.

All of this gives you a rich emotional life. You are free to express your passions about certain subjects with appropriate people. But you are also emotionally adaptable; if the conversation needs to be more cerebral, you'll keep it "in your head" and talk calmly through whatever issue is on the table. This emotional awareness serves you well. You seldom get in over your head, either by opening up to the wrong person or by triggering in someone else's emotions they may not be able to deal with.

Negative reactions others may have: When it comes to dealing with emotions we all meet some people with whom we don't match well. You bring a balanced approach to your emotional life. As such, those who are at the extremes are most likely to have a negative reaction to you. Those who live in their emotions may feel you tend to "live in your head" while those who go through life as an emotional rock may feel that you are a bit too "touchy feely" for their approach.

And of course it is always possible that because you do balance your emotional approach to life you may misread others - we all do at times. So there have undoubtedly been those times when you have misread cues and stayed in your head with someone who hoped for a more open emotional approach or you may have opened up emotionally with someone who keeps their emotions bottled up. But these things happen and since you do have a good balance of being in touch with your emotions and not being overly impacted by emotional swings, you undoubtedly are able to adapt.

Another potential problem is that as people get to know you well, they will discover that you have a great balance between emotional expression and emotional control. If they don't have this balance they may wind up envying you. They can't express feelings as well as you, or they are too often out of emotional control and resent you for your ability to cope so well with the very emotions that may trip them up.

Positive responses: Many people will be grateful to find a friend like you who can stay in control when emotions verge on chaos, but who can also go into the tangle of emotions when it is safe and appropriate to do so. Because of your ability to engage them at whatever level they are comfortable, to adapt to whatever changes in emotion emerge in the conversation, and to cope so well with all of it - well, they'll be very glad they found a person like you. You may, in fact, wind up as something of an emotional mentor. Your awareness of the emotional temperature of a situation, your ability to adapt to either heat or cold, and your ability to cope with whatever winds up happening in the conversation could be models for them to follow as they come to terms with their own emotional worlds.

Conscientiousness: You are focused and flexible with obligations.
Words to describe you: casual, informal, compliant, reliable, organized, solid, dependable, uncommitted, genuine.

How you interact with others: When you take on a task at work or at home, you are reliable; you get the job done. In an organized way, you define the goal, lay out a plan, figure how long the task will take, and get to work "solid and dependable you".

But and this is important you're not a slave to the plan. You're committed to it, but not chained to it; the connection is more casual and informal. You know that sometimes "the best laid plans" fall off the tracks; when this happens, you clean up the train wreck and start over, undeterred.

Though not happening often, when plans change, you're okay with it. In fact, sometimes you change the plan. It's too nice of a Saturday to finish organizing the garage. Let's go for a bike ride instead. True, the next rainy Saturday will likely find you back in the garage, but for now the work can wait.

What an interesting combination of qualities in you're organized, but casual; solid, but compliant; and dependable, but informal. At home and at work, people know they can rely on you. You take great satisfaction in knowing that people think of you as disciplined and responsible, but you also know that you have something of a free spirit in you, and when this spirit moves you, off you go, following the impulse of the moment. You are rightly proud of your work ethic, but you also enjoy your willingness to lay the tools down, crank up the music and play like a child.

Negative reactions others may have toward you: Some people live like Marines: duty-bound, disciplined and driven. To these people you might seem uncommitted; where they would never leave work for play or change plans in the middle of their life's forced march, you let the circumstance sway you and move in a different direction, and they don't understand.

Others live like kites on a string, attached by thin threads to the solid ground of responsibility and are blown about by every gust of impulse or imagination. To these people you might seem too cowardly, like you'll flirt with your impulses but never give in fully, play on a Saturday but never blow of the entire work-week to "follow your bliss".

While these Marines and kite-flyers might look down on you for your combination of focus and flexibility, others might be envious. They can't free themselves from a sense that they're not doing enough, or from the equally frustrating feeling that they're not free enough.

And here you are with your accomplishments and your pleasures, getting the job done but also getting your hair blown back as you run with the wind. As far as these people are concerned, you're lucky you've got the best of both of the worlds in which they feel they fail.

Positive responses others may have: What a great life you have, and a great attitude to boot. You know when to buckle down and push ahead to get the job done, and you do it well. You know when to lay the tools of your trade aside, grab your kite and head for the meadow where you can run with the wind. Many people will see and admire in you this lovely combination of a person who can focus, but who is flexible enough to know when to let the spirit move you in some new and livelier direction.

It's a life they aspire to, and they delight in seeing it played out in your life. They may ask your advice and turn you into a mentor of the full and balanced experience. They will want to know how you do it, what the costs are, and if you get frightened that you're not working hard enough or playing often enough. They may make you think about your own life more than you have, so you can share it with those who want to emulate this balance between flexibility and focus.

Extraversion: You are outgoing.
Words to describe you: friendly, gregarious, full of life, unreserved, kindhearted, talkative, emotional, spontaneous, vigorous.

How you interact with others: People light you up. In conversations, planning meetings or almost any social situation, you bring your energy and your friendly, outgoing personality into these engagements with other people, and you come away pumped up. You can hardly wait for the next event, as long as other people will be there. And you're good at it.

You know how to communicate. You listen well, the first rule of good communication, and then, when it's your turn, you talk vigorously and with animation; in your uninhibited way you give all that you've got to the encounter.

In situations where you feel very safe, when you know and trust the people you're with, you can be very kindhearted and unrestrained. You let your affection for and pleasure in being with others flow freely. You're wide open And when you get back this same kind of unrestrained warmth, you are deeply satisfied. Because you are so friendly and full of life, these are among your favorite moments.

Negative reactions others may have: As much as you like being with other people, not everyone will like being with you. Hard to believe, but your gregarious and warm manner is not everyone's cup of tea. Some people are more cautious than you in personal encounters; others think the work place should be more formal, more impersonal than is comfortable for you. Still others, who may want more of the spotlight, will find you too much to compete with once you get your lively and outgoing self in motion.

Here's another word of caution. You've been at this warm and open way of relating for a while, but for some people it's a brand new experience. They may be protecting something inside themselves, some fear or guilt or shame, or some private part of their story that they're not yet ready to share. Your openness might threaten them, and they'll take a step back and be reluctant the next time to engage you in the kind of exchange you find so easy and satisfying but they find so dangerous.

Positive responses others may have of you: Many people, most probably, will be glad to be in the room you're in. At work you make the environment livelier and the banter more interesting, so the time moves swiftly and the experience is a happier one. At home you keep everyone connected because you engage each of them in the conversational action, and as a result they are more connected as well with one another. You make home a warmer and more interesting place for everyone who lives there.
You might also be helpful to some people. There are those who need to talk but aren't very good at it. They don't know how to begin the kind of conversation that would allow them to share whatever is in their personal stories that they'd like or need to talk about. You could make that easier for them with your way with words. Some people just need an example and a little encouragement to come out of their shell and get into the greater fun and personal connectedness that will make their lives so much more satisfying. Again, you might be just the right person to make that happen for them.

So almost everyone will be glad to be with you, you make life more interesting for those you live and work with, and you could help some of your friends who need just a little encouragement to open up and find in themselves the kinds of energetic and warm connections that you thrive on. Not that you are a pushover; in fact, you are often quite assertive. In taking care of yourself you also make sure that others are engaged and energized.

Invisible

I remembered a dream I had last night or this morning. It made me miss Carol and some of my clients a bit. I was in a big office suite inside of a building that I didn't recognize at all. A fairly big group of people were gathered at a conference table; I noticed a few to be former counseling clients of mine. I was trying to figure out why I was there. Was I visiting or there to help Carol with a group or presentation? Carol was scrambling around, highly energetic (as usual, hahaha) like she was looking for supplies. She rushed into the other room that appeared to be an office kitchen. I was trying to talk to her, but she was busy and just made some playful sarcastic remark that even though I'm not there anymore, she has been able to handle things,etc. I thought, ah, that's the Carol I know and love. The weird part of the dream was that I don't think anyone else could see me there besides Carol, like I had this invisible superpower. I looked at this one former client, happy to see him and wondering if he's still sticking to his recovery, staying sober...but I didn't really know (because he couldn't see me). That's all I remember.

What if we could dream in episodes?

I woke up this morning, fully rested with no idea of the time. It could have been 2pm for all I knew. I squinted my eyes and peered at my alarm clock radio across the room by the edge of the window: 10:03am. I can't remember the last time I have slept in so late. I think it was because I was dreaming so much. As I roused from bed, I muttered to myself about the weird intriguing dreams. I cannot recall all of them, but the one I had right before I woke up is fairly fresh in my mind.

I appeared to be on a date with a tall European guy (who actually reminded me of one of my former Polish clients). We talked, had lunch. I felt like we were actually in Europe because when we left the restaurant, as we walked along the street outside I noticed it was made of cobblestone. It was cloudy and damp, the feeling of it having recently rained. It just had that European ambiance. I liked European guy, but he felt more like an interesting friend than a romantic rendezvous. I did get excited, however, when he asked me (quite nonchalantly) if I wanted to go to Belgium. You would have thought he was asking me if I wanted to go bowling or on a picnic, like it's a normal thing people do every day. My eyes nearly popped out of my head in curious anticipation. "Do I want to go to Belgium?!?! Of course I do!" I had no idea why or what we'd do there, but I didn't care. I could wander around all day and be perfectly content.

Next thing I know, suddenly it doesn't feel like we're in Europe walking on the cobblestone street anymore, but on the sidewalk of Broadway in my old Lakeview, Chicago neighborhood. There are crowds of people walking all around us, in front of us. I'm becoming anxious as we walk along the crosswalk from the Chipotle on the corner of Belmont and Broadway to the other side, the sidewalk in front of Walgreens. European guy says something about cooking and running errands. He looks so tall and I feel so short as I tilt my head to peer up at his face. Maybe he wasn't serious about Belgium after all. Confused, I ask him "What about Belgium?" Again, he talks nonchalantly about it, encouraging me to cook dinner for my family as he does some errands and he will call me later. I remind him that I don't eat chicken, that I'm pretty much vegetarian. He doesn't react, as if he didn't hear me say anything. There's an awkward pause for goodbye. I initiate a big, warm hug...interesting friend, not romantic lover. He continues his way and I continue mine, walking down Belmont back to my Chicago apartment. I really wanted to go to Belgium. That's all I remember. This was the kind of dream that I didn't care to interpret or make sense of it. It was a dream I simply enjoyed, like watching a tv show or movie.

Do you ever wish you could have dream episodes? And I don't mean just picking up where you leave off with a dream if you've woken up and then want to go back to sleep. I'm talking about being able to choose which dreams you find most interesting to continue with later 'episodes,' the ones that would be most fun to see how they turn out. Like Belgium. I want to know if I end up going to Belgium in the dream and if so, I want to see Belgium! I also think it would be cool to compare my dream to 'real life.' I would be fascinated to see if my dream Belgium looks anything like actual Belgium.

I have heard of lucid dreaming before, but I don't know if it would work for me. I saw this dream themed movie not too long ago (though the title of the movie escapes me) where the main character had this dream about a beautiful woman (Penelope Cruz) and he becomes consumed with finding ways to engage in lucid dreaming so he can continue the same kind of dream about her. Part of the reason he loves the dream is because he's unhappy with his morose girlfriend (played by Gweneth Paltrow, go figure, haha!) and the dream provided him with something alluring: a beautiful woman.

Essentially though, it had more to do with him being unsatisfied with his own life, so he was escaping reality through fantasy life (aka the dream state). Hmmm, is that what I'm doing? Maybe, maybe not. But it sure would be fun to try out some multiple dream episodes.

Thoughts on 'freedom'

"Freedom is nothing else but a chance to be better." ---Albert Camus

As I was enjoying a walk today in the 50 degree sunny weather, I was thinking about the idea of freedom as it pertains to one's happiness. I thought about different people I know, the ways in which they seem to represent 'freedom.' When we think of 'freedom,' infinite associations with the word spring to mind: Free to do as one pleases, free to be oneself, free of responsibility, free of literal or metaphorical 'chains', free spirited, free to express, free to govern, and on and on...

Instead of thinking of freedom as an absolute, however, today I considered the possibility that maybe it's just about more freedom vs. less freedom. Having an overwhelming commitment or responsibility may prompt one to want more freedom. Lacking emotional and physical connections with others may trigger the opposite feeling of wanting less freedom and more security. But we can't have both, not really...not all the time. It ebbs and flows. Relationships can both free us and enslave us. So can our passions, our 'issues,' our jobs, our health, our self-esteem, our routines, our habits, our culture or society! But it isn't meant to be depressing. Maybe it's an opportunity to be cognizant of what could be waiting right around the corner (or not).

Freedom is also found in the pursuit, the anticipation.

Bibliophilia

It's after midnight as I sit here quietly in the living room of my mom's house, having sipped more than a few glasses of Yellowtail Shiraz wine over the past few hours and reminiscing about all the books I've read. In case you're wondering why, it's not so random. There's this cool application on Facebook called the Visual Bookshelf. You can 'add' or 'remove' books under other such categories as 'want to read,' 'already read,' and so forth. You can also click on a 'recommendations' category that will spit out recommendations based on books you have already read or want to read. I have been infatuated with this VB application quite a bit lately. It's like a personal little book 'game' I've started with myself tonight. How many books can you remember having read off the top of your head Katie? This is no easy challenge, especially having worked at a bookstore for 4 years in Chicago.

We (the store name shall remain nameless, though if you know me and/or are someone reading this whom has worked with me there....well, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout!) were allowed to check books out on what could be technically considered a 'library loan' of sorts for two weeks. There were only a few conditions: 1. It had to be either hard cover or what's known as a "QP" (quality paperback for those not in the know with the inside lingo), so as not to look all beat up, disheveled, mangled by water, your dog's mouth and that sort of thing. If it did, you had to buy it (naturally). 2. There had to be at least 2 copies total of a particular book in the store in order for you to check it out, that way you weren't impeding a customer from buying it by an employee having checked out the only copy. There were sneaky ways around this one. Yes, I'm guilty on a few counts with this rule. :) Anyway, my point is that because I had the advantage of checking out MANY books free of charge all at my convenient disposal...I probably read twice as many books as I do now (though I still can't ever really go into a bookstore without buying at least one book, even if it just sits on my bookshelf for awhile). So essentially, the possibilities for how many books I've racked up as 'already read' is mind boggling. It makes me wonder further, how many books have I read in my lifetime?!

Another reason I love books is not just the vast array of interesting topics of knowledge and/or imagination it invokes...it's also certain memories I associate with a particular book. I remember reading "Frankenstein" my senior year of high school for English class and how eager I was to just be done already and graduate. I remember reading "Scarlet Letter" one difficult summer in Kentucky when I was lost and trying to figure out the next course my life should take. I also remember "Emotional Alchemy" helping me to that next transitional level of life just a few months after that in 2001. I remember sitting in the living room of my on campus apartment at SWT/Texas State reading "Man's Search for Meaning," baffled and in awe of a brilliant and amazing human being who survived the atrocities of a concentration camp, thinking surely I had NOTHING to complain about in comparison! I remember sitting on a plane en route to Florida to visit my dad reading "The Beauty Myth," probably the only 14 or 15 year old girl who was reading about feminist thought! I remember reading "Passionate Marriage" during a jam packed year of practicum and graduate school classes in 2004, having stumbled across it as an 'extra' reading recommendation on Dr. Todd's syllabus for one of the marriage and family therapy classes I took. That book blew me away and really challenged me to think about true eroticism and intimacy versus 'piece of meat' sexuality. Wow. Love David Schnarch, so brilliant!

Then of course, there are those books I read prior to and/or during book events I worked. I remember reading Augusten Burroughs' books and then had the pleasure of working the book signing event when "Magical Thinking" came out... and chatting with him a bit after the event with some questions of my own on his writing. I remember being excited to meet and work the Dan Savage event when his book "The Commitment" came out. He told me he had some excerpts in mind that he'd like to read, but he needed one more and was unsure. "Read the part about when you smashed a cake in that one guy's face!!" I told him. (Some college guy had a cake fetish) As I stood there and listened to him read the excerpts, he actually took my suggestion and read it. I couldn't believe it! And it was a hit; the audience roared in laughter.

I remember sitting on a bus heading towards downtown Chicago as I read parts of "De Profundis" and wishing someone would feel THAT passionately about me. Ah, the romance in literature. I remember going through my FBI profiling book phase in college, reading John Douglas books ("Mindhunter," "Journey Into Darkness," etc) and watching biographies of famous killers on A & E with Bill Curtis...and sometimes being a little freaked out/paranoid that someone was watching me through my Comanche Hill apartment window. hahaha. I remember reading a book on writing for the first time during my short stint in Reno, Nevada...Julia Cameron's "The Right to Write." The phenomenal book helped give me courage and honesty to find my authentic 'voice' in developing my writing/style deeper. "Heroin" helped me understand the addicts I had been working with better, Osho books helped me understand myself better.

I remember sitting at a table in the front window of The Fixx on Sheffield in my Chicago neighborhood a year or two ago reading about all of Philip's experiences throughout his lifetime in "Of Human Bondage," totally engrossed with the character. I remember reading books that were recommended to me, which inevitably makes me think of that particular person..."Ishmael" and "Life of Pi" (Kristopher K.), "On Killing" (AJ), "The 48 Laws of Power" (Josh), the Dexter series books (Juan), and various literature books (Mom). I could go on and on, but I would be here all night and well, it's already after 1am here in Seattle.

With such great memories, can you see how books are a 'friend' to me in their own right? :)

Terrorism isn't just in the Middle East

This book caught my attention as I was browsing books on one of the display tables at Barnes and Noble a few weeks ago. I finally got around to start reading it and could not put it down today! At the risk of bringing up one of the never-ending hot and contentious debates out there, I have to share my shock, disgust and dismay at all that I'm reading. I'm not even talking about the topic of abortion itself: pro choice, pro life, whatever. I stay informed with the news and am fully aware that those who provide abortion/women's health services are at risk for a litany of judgment, scorn, self righteous indignation from anti-extremists....but this book has blasted my eyes and mind fully open to the dangerous risk and courage they have to muster in order to simply go to work every day.

Susan Wicklund is an admirable and brave woman in my eyes, as I read about how she has dodged past radical crazed protesters. They send her hate mail, block and barricade not only her work place but her HOME, make death threats, intimidate by physical force, even being so threatening and controlling as to force her to take alternate routes when she needs to leave for work/travel, dress in disguise,etc. I can't even IMAGINE having to cope with all these things on a daily basis, especially all in the name of a JOB. The protesters who harass her and her family claim to support life/not killing babies yet have no problem being a form of domestic terrorism. Don't they realize the hypocrisy in that?

My mom says she talks about terrorism with her students in her classes, pointing out that 'terrorism' exists in this country. I asked her if that stirs quite a bit of argument for discussion, but she tells me their reaction is more dumbfounded, like they had not thought of it before...or, they simply don't respond maybe because they don't want to be the voice of ignorance or dissent. I also wondered why law enforcement cannot get involved when a fair amount of evidence suggests violent threats are harming or causing emotional and physical distress to the doctor. For example, in one instance she cannot leave her house because it is completely barricaded by protesters. When she calls the police, they tell her they can't do anything about it because it would be MORE dangerous for them to attempt breaking it up seeing as there are only one or two officers in the county versus the overpowering 50 to 100 protesters. Seriously?! What happened to the duty of 'serve and protect' at all costs? If you don't have enough cops (I understand the reality of this being an issue, as my dad has told me about the bureaucratic nature and frustrations of what he himself has to contend with now and then...but still), isn't there an emergency backup plan to be instilled for such a scenario?

I realize there are certain protocols law enforcement has to follow, but at the same time shouldn't that also apply to protocols punishing the perpetrators? Freedom of Speech is a constitutional right, but Freedom of Violence or Imposing Your Radical Beliefs on another is not. The anti-extremists can be arrested hundreds of times, but there's no harsher and more punitive punishment given thereafter for making her life a living hell....and especially to keep them away the next time around (and there's always a next time).

Despite all the risks, she doesn't give up. I am in awe of her bravery and resilience. I don't know that I could be as strong! What I really wish the radicals would take the time and open-mindedness to realize is just how much Susan Wicklund cares about human life. Some may argue this sounds like an oxymoron. Yes, she performs abortions for women who have decided to make that decision for themselves. But she, along with other staff, talk with each woman extensively beforehand in efforts to facilitate the BEST decision for a woman. This includes providing in depth counseling for a woman: being absolutely positive beyond a shadow of a doubt that she does not want to carry the pregnancy to term.

If they could just see it from that perspective, maybe they wouldn't be so quick to label her a 'murderer' with hateful, hypocritical crusades.

Mt. Rainier

I woke up this morning with the mere anticipation of going for a morning walk on my new and usual route around the neighborhood....but when my mom mentioned she was thinking about going to Mt. Rainier on this beautifully sunny day, there was no hesitation: Sunday afternoon road trip with my mom!!! With a map, some generic directions on how to get there, some of my mixed cds, and our sense of adventure...we were off! Today was the kind of day that everyone seemed to agree upon because ALL day I saw people riding their motorcycles along the highway and green, winding roads. I must admit I was a bit jealous. As much as the idea scares the hell outta me, what an experience it would be to see mountains, inhale fresh air and feel the wind whipping against your face on a Harley...at least once in life!

It took about 2 hours to get to the national park. We stopped at a quaint little cabin type restaurant in the wilderness for a light lunch, then paid the $15 fee to enter Mt. Rainier National Park. We found out it only costs $30 for an annual pass. "Hmmm," we thought. I took numerous photos and while they turned out pretty good, I can't even describe to you how magnifcent and overwhelmingly phenomenal it was to be surrounded by such beauty. And they are HUGE. There's one picture my mom took of me late in our ascent....my height juxtaposed with the backdrop of the gigantic mountains is quite significant! Ha! It was also bizarre to be surrounded by tall blocks of snow that appeared to swallow our tiny car as we zigzagged along the endless road to the top of the mountain: aka what is literally called "Paradise." Yes, we can now say we've "been to paradise!"

I'm officially in love with Mt. Rainier.

America's addiction to consumerism

I came across a link to an interesting article while on a friend's Facebook page just a little while ago. It reminded me of a book I read this past year that another friend of mine recommended ("Not Buying It" by Judith Levine), however, this article delves into deeper issues behind the problem: http://www.alternet.org/healthwellness/82013/?page=entire

As a substance abuse therapist, I absolutely agree with the points raised in this article. I wonder though if U.S. consumerism trends will decrease or is it a mere pipe dream for ideal happiness? As suggested in the article, perhaps all we can do is seek 'recovery' mode? But only if we want to....

Culture and values

I've always been fascinated and curious about similiarities and differences among various cultures. What I find even more interesting is similarities in individual values between two different cultures. I got to thinking about this yesterday after a long and interesting conversation I had with someone I didn't know well. Even though we are from two different areas of the world, we seem more similar than we are different. In fact, I have felt this way from a very young age. Various close friendships I've had throughout the years have been with people from different cultural backgrounds. People may at first glance (upon seeing myself and the other person standing side by side) perceive me and the other person to be very different by superficial standards, but they couldn't be more wrong. We may look different physically (short vs. tall, thin vs. fat, American vs. from another country or ethnic background, the way we dress) and talk in different languages, but it is what comes from the sharing of thoughts, feelings and actions that matter.

And whether it's someone who doesn't have much in common with me or can practically complete my sentences? Let's learn from each other instead of looking up or down to one another. It allows much more freedom, kindness and the awareness that ultimately, as humans...we're still all in the same boat: life.

Writers and characters

Tonight I watched "Starting Out in the Evening," an interesting movie that explores passion, freedom, and what seems to be turning into the lost art of appreciation for the written word. This movie was so complex that I found myself getting lost in all the layers of meaning and symbolism, but in the greatest way. The only thing I didn't like about it was the subplot about the main character's daughter and her boyfriend. Otherwise, a phenomenal movie. Lauren Ambrose plays "Heather Wolfe," a graduate student who is in awe of her literary hero ("Leonard Schiller") and seeks him out in hopes he will participate in contributing to her master's thesis: a closer look at the man behind the older, more famous novels from years ago. Schiller has been working on the same novel for 10 years prior to Heather showing up at his door, his life seemingly as stale as his current writing project. Though the age difference between the two creates awkward and uncomfortable moments for both characters at times, they still manage to challenge each other's intellectual acumen and emotional vulnerabilities. It's done in such a way that isn't contrived, but genuine with refreshingly honest dialogue to match.

I could appreciate this film because it seemed to combine and explore two of my favorite passions in life, psychology/reflection and writing. I found myself identifying with bits and pieces of both Ambrose' character, as well as Schiller and Schiller's daughter. Usually I only tend to identify with characters in books because the character development is lacking the substantial depth to really get into a character's mind and heart.

But I could empathize with those in "Starting Out in the Evening" because they mirrored parts of myself here and there:

Heather Wolfe's desire for both a cerebral and emotional connection ("Men my age are like chewing gum; ten minutes of flavor, and then just bland repetition.")

Leonard Schiller's passion (and muse) for writing that gives meaning to his life and the conflicts he battles within himself to live his convictions ("Freedom isn't the choice the world encourages. You have to wear a suit of armor to defend it. ")

And even though the subplot juxtaposed with the main plot could have either been done better or not done at all, I liked how Schiller's 40 year old daughter Ariel attempts to make changes to her dysfunctional relationship patterns.

The character development isn't the only thing that separates this movie from others similar to its kind out there. The overall theme of the film honors the power of the written word--- the thoughts, feelings, and impact writers have on those who loyally read and appreciate the message. To read a novel/intimate writing...is like soaking up someone's innermost self like a sponge and yet, you always want more. Or at least that is my hope. Schiller even says something I have wondered myself. Heather asks him if he's concerned whether people will still be reading his novel in 100 years. His concern is whether people will even be reading novels in 100 years. Sadly, therein his statement is truth of the times. For now though, I'd just like to be inspired by this movie's story.

Synchronicity

Synchronicity: A non-causal connection between two or more various phenomena (psychic and/or physical). --Psychologist Carl Jung

Or in simpler language: a meaningful coincidence.

When I reflect on the idea of synchronicity, I am grateful for the impact it has had on my life, particularly in regard to friendships over the years. Some of my best and/or most interesting friendships have been the result of synchronicity:

How I met and became friends with Nicole: Back in 1998 I think, I went to Mardi Gras with this girl Tiffani. We went with a group of people, Nicole being one of those people. Never thought I'd see the girl again. One summer semester a year later after I had transferred to Southwest Texas State, I walk into a self defense/karate class. Who was sitting there? Nicole! She became my best friend in college. :)

How I became friends with Melissa: I was at Friar Tuck one night with my friend Paul. I think I went to the bar to get another drink and he was talking to two women. He introduced me to them and I chatted a bit with Melissa and her sister-in-law at the time (Mary). She had just moved to Chicago from Florida and turned out she lived just 5 minutes away from me. We exchanged phone numbers, as she was new and wanting to meet people/make friends. I didn't think I'd hear from her, but she called me later that week. I thought she was (and still is) an interesting and generous friend. Interestingly, I'm not friends with Paul anymore; he turned out to be an asshole. But if it weren't for him, Melissa and I never would have met!

Then there's Rajiv: I had been friends with this older guy Mark for about six months. One night he invited me and his friend Rajiv over to watch a movie. Rajiv and I 'clicked' right away. My friendship with Rajiv stuck, while both Rajiv and I's friendship with Mark didn't. Again, never would have met and had such a wonderful friendship with Rajiv if Mark didn't bring us together that one movie night!

Then there are those that have spontaneously 'found' me online or through another friend: Ricky (via my "Follow Your Bliss" blog), Palo (via Tracy telling him about my blog/writing), Josh (via our mutual friend Brandon), Sara (via Johnny/The Dimes) and the list goes on

....interesting people I wouldn't have gotten to know if it weren't for good ole' synchronicity at play. :)

Celebration

What is the importance of celebration in your life? Why do you choose to celebrate something? Is there enough celebration in your world? Or too much?

Celebration is incredibly important, yet I don't think there's enough of it. Celebration gives us something to look forward to, a reason to feel loved and appreciated. Maybe if there were more celebration in people's lives, the world would be a friendlier and happier place. Sure, there's celebrations for the status quo kinds of things like weddings, graduations, baby showers, and the like. But what about celebration for just being who you are? Celebration is about acceptance and joy; it shouldn't be about circumstances.

It reminds me of an episode of "Sex and the City." Carrie had this friend who was married and had children. Carrie went to her friend's party and when she arrived, the friend asked her to take off her really nice shoes. Reluctant but respectful, Carrie acquiesced. When it was time for her to leave, Carrie noticed her shoes were missing. Although just shoes, they were 'her thing,' something that gave her joy. Carrie's friend didn't seem to care that Carrie's shoes were missing. Carrie politely asked to be reimbursed for the missing shoes and the friend was irate. Carrie pointed out how many celebrations she has willingly and happily attended in the friend's life and wondered why the friend could not honor HER. Carrie sent her friend an invitation to "A wedding/marriage to myself." She let her friend know that if she couldn't attend the 'wedding,' she was 'registered' for gifts at the same store where she had bought the shoes that went missing. Carrie got a new pair of the same missing shoes from her friend.

I remember that episode from time to time when I'm feeling sad and in need of celebration. Oddly, it gives me comfort and a sense of empowerment to create more celebration in my life, no matter how small. It sounds funny, maybe even petty....but just remember how you feel when you're in need of a little celebration in your life. :)

Seattle Freeze

Has anyone heard of this? http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/pacificnw/2005/0213/cover.html

Weird. I had not heard of it until I had already moved here. I certainly hope I don't experience this, even with the help of social networking/meet up group activities....

Mundanely pleasant

Ever have a day that for whatever reason, is just a really pleasant day in all its mundane glory? I'm sure you have. Today was one such day for me.

I had the best 8 hours of sleep last night that I've probably had in the whole time I've been here in Seattle and woke up this morning feeling totally refreshed. Bright sunshine coming in through the windows, I opened my eyes and noticed it was only 7:30am....yet, I was ready to jump out of bed! Sunday while on a walk with my mom, I found I liked the route with all its hills and other natural splendors. I went for another hour long walk on the same route on Monday as well as this morning.

Maybe it's fun because to me the route is kinda like a maze: I walk about a block, make a left that slightly curves around on a dead end street veering into another street. I come upon a slightly ajar fence that leads into a moderately big apartment complex parking lot, cut through there, exiting the complex onto another street. Walk to the end of that street. Turn right, walk on the sidewalk of another street for half a block, cross the street and turn onto a paved airport parking lot exit from high up on the hill so that I'm walking down a steep slope. There is a grassy marsh/hill to the left that sounds like it has a mini brook of water running, which is very relaxing to walk beside. I cut across the vast parking lot, walk a little uphill to exit the lot. Take a left onto SeaTac Intn'l Blvd where the airport and all the hotels are located (naturally, I think of my friend Carol when I think of hotels....I miss that lady so much!). I walk straight for 2 blocks and turn left onto 188th Ave and stay on that street for about 10 or 15 minutes, which is an uphill slope a majority of the time. I then turn left onto my mom's street and walk half a block.

What I loved most about my walk was listening and looking at all the beauty around me. I love looking at all the colorful flowers and trees, especially the huge cherry blossom trees; they're everywhere! I've also decided tulips are my new favorite flower. I never really noticed the elegance of tulips before. I'm not sure if it's because I see them more than I ever have prior to my move to Washington, but regardless, my eyes enjoy looking at them. :) I listen to a little bird chirping above me on the telephone pole wire. I see and hear more than one airplane taking off in the blue sky in front of me. It reminds me of how excited I feel when I'm on a plane, about to see someone I haven't seen in a long time. Or going to a fun destination in hopes of great adventure.

I'm also reminded of how much walking helps me to do two paradoxical things: to think AND not to think. How amazing it is when your mind lets you do both at random times, giving a comforting and much needed balance between problem solving and calm meditativeness. It's funny because I don't have any music to listen to while exercising. At first it was a nuisance, a boredom not to have...but now, I'm starting to enjoy the silence.

After my walk, I decided to make an excursion downtown to see a movie that a friend of mine told me about, "Forgetting Sarah Marshall." What's funny about having watched this movie is that it made me chuckle (in more ways than one), mainly due to the blog I wrote about men not getting naked on screen (See "Private Gender" blog: 4/16/08). In FSM, the main character is completely naked in like three scenes. It was great! Hahaha. And not for reasons you may think, although probably those too. ;) FINALLY it's a man getting naked in a movie, not a woman. Come to think of it, I don't think there were any naked women in the movie. There was a scene where there was a photo collage on a wall in the men's bathroom where women are flashing the camera, but I don't think that really counts. All bodily exposure aside (hahaha), I enjoyed the movie. I definitely recommend it to my friends!

My mom also gave me an ivy plant that she bought tonight, so I have a plant to take care of again; yay! I'm becoming such a domesticated nerd. :)

Ok, it's 11:30 pm. Time to go to bed soon and hopefully have another mundanely pleasant day tomorrow....

When are you (really) an 'adult?'

(photo and quotes from "Lars and the Real Girl")

Lars Lindstrom:I was talking to Bianca, and she was saying that in her culture they have these rites of passages and rituals and cermonies, and, just all kinds of things that, when you do them, go through them, let you know that you're an adult? Doesn't that sound great?
Gus: It does.
Lars Lindstrom: How'd you know?
Gus: How'd I know what?
Lars Lindstrom: That you were a man.
Gus: Ahhh. I couldn't tell ya.
Lars Lindstrom: Was it... okay, was it sex?
Gus: Um. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it's uh, yeah, yeah it's kind of - it's uh - no. Well, it's kind of sex but it's not uh, you know? I don't know. I don't know. It's - uh - good question, good question.
Lars Lindstrom: Yeah, but I have to know.
Gus: [dryer buzzes] Hold that thought.
Gus: [in basement] You know, you should ask Dagmar.
Lars Lindstrom: I did ask Dagmar. And she said that I should ask you.
Gus: Okay, you know I can only give you my opinion.
Lars Lindstrom: That's what we want.
Gus: Well, it's not like you're one thing or the other, okay? There's still a kid inside but you grow up when you decide to do right, okay, and not what's right for you, what's right for everybody, even when it hurts.
Lars Lindstrom: Okay, like what?
Gus: Like, you know, like, you don't jerk people around, you know, and you don't cheat on your woman, and you take care of your family, you know, and you admit when you're wrong, or you try to, anyways. That's all I can think of, you know - it sound like it's easy and for some reason it's not.
____________________________________________________________________

I watched this movie the other day. Although it was odd, the above conversation really struck a chord with me. I like Gus' idea of when you really feel like an adult.

Becoming an adult seems different than feeling like one. My mom and I were talking about this today while we were taking a long walk---about parents, family, adulthood. She told me she didn't really feel like an adult until she was 30 years old. "Why?" I asked. It was when she was able to start setting boundaries in her relationship with her mother, my grandmother. She also started doing what she wanted to do, what she most wanted to do with her life.

I was surprised, however, when she went on to say that when she has asked students in a classroom discussion this question ("When are you an adult?" ) she seemed to answer differently.

"I get alot of resistance from students when I ask them. They will say 'Oh, when I'm 35 or 40' and I say 'No, you're an adult when you turn 18."

I turn to my mom quizzically, "Mom, surely you don't believe that psychologically a person is an 'adult' when they turn 18? And I thought you were technically an 'adult' when you're 21, not 18."

"No, that's just for drinking. You can vote at 18 years old." She went on to say that while someone may not feel like an adult at 18, it is at that age that one must learn how to start acting like an adult because mom and dad can't keep bailing you out anytime a problem arises.

I suppose that makes sense. While I certainly had moments where I felt like an adult from 18 years and up, I didn't REALLY feel like an adult until maybe I was 28 years old. Why?

I stopped taking things personally (aka, not everything is about me).

My parents became people (imagine that, they're people too? Who knew! hahaha)with their own thoughts, feelings, lives that I really wanted to know and have a more authentic relationship with. This included forgiving whatever happened in the past and moving on.

I stopped living in the past so much and began focusing on creating my life in the 'present.'

I became not just responsible for myself, but other people....in a big way (my counseling job).

So, if given the chance to be a child again with all there is to learn....I think I'll savor my adulthood. :)

Colors

I thought I would do something a little different today to help inspire some creativity within me, seeing as I feel creatively dehydrated with my writing lately. I want to write, but nothing comes to mind. Maybe this little exercise will help. I got this book last weekend that has different creative writing ideas to help get the flow going.

I just stumbled across this one: Make two lists, one of colors that attract you and one of colors that repel you. Choose a color from each list. Approach each of them from your other senses; how do these colors sound, smell, taste, and what is their texture?

Colors I'm drawn to:
Light aqua blue
Lavendar
Deep valentine red
Forest Green


Colors I'm not so crazy for:
Neon orange
Most shades of yellow
Grey

Light aqua blue reminds me of peace, serenity, pastel colored houses in Seaside, Florida, tastes like a warm comforting cup of Chamomile tea. It sounds like waves of the ocean crashing on a sandy secluded shore. It reminds me of glowing candles burning in my apartment on a lazy afternoon. It says, "No worries" and lets me do whatever will let me be free. It's as soft and salty as a freshly made oversized pretzel. Cool as a cup of frozen yogurt being eaten atop a desolate rooftop. Refreshing as a subtle summer breeze, wisps of stray hairs gently tickling my cheek.

Lavendar is my grandmother Crooker incarnate. Lavendar lilacs in bloom, lavendar incense, an atypical color to associate with a hippie like kind of love. It is a rare and glorious shortlived summer sunset to be savored. It tastes of Cracker Barrel Vermont cheese melted on toast. It looked like a tiny kitchen in Derry in the 1980's and always sounds like Narn's laughter. This color is my legacy.

Deep valentine red looks like my alter ego, but really is my passions. My pulsating heart, my femme fatale wannabe painted fingernails, the wild adventurous woman inside me. The occasional thunderstorm, followed by a rainbow. It is a voyeur of stories and emotional drives. Tastes bitter and smooth like the best of margaritas, exotic like Spanish tapas. Thick and gooey cookie batter, gluttony in disguise.

Forest green is miles of unknown territory, like a picture taken in the middle of nowhere, Michigan on a wintery day of 2007. It is natural, crunchy granola getting stuck against and in between my teeth. It warns everyone to take care of this fragile home of Earth. It can be seen every time there are tornadoes, hurricanes, tsunamis. It looks like running a marathon, sweat dripping down a runner's neck, swallowing a tall glass of cold water. Replenishing, refreshing, reinventing.

Neon orange carpet circa 1970's smells like pot and lacks original thought. It resembles an era marked by disco and psychedelic drugs. Confused, hairy hippie folks and cheesy so called 'horror' films. Neon orange tastes like artificial cheese squirted out of a can, sister to its brother: Spam. It is a lonely old widow's comfort coat, something that makes a person lose all sense of fashion after the age of 60. It feels like long fingernails being scraped down down down the classroom chalkboard. It screams, "Stop torturing me!"

Most shades of yellow is the urine I used to collect at my drug counseling job. Pale yellow indicated more healthy, brighter yellow dehydration and other potential problems. Its stale smell makes me cringe and reminds me of the homeless stinky crazies on the Chicago Red Line L train. Tastes like sunflower seeds scattered across the sticky floors of the CTA. It sounds like a series of non sequiturs when you're just trying to travel without being bothered. A magic eight ball that declares "Outlook very bleak."

Grey is a conformist, neither here nor there. Charcoal, dust, a wasteland of indecision. An actor's happy and gloomy mask, never revealing its true colors or uniqueness. Bloody like a T-Bone steak cooked medium rare, tough trying to cut through the thick layer to get to the real meat of things. "I wear many masks," it likes to say. Initially appealing to those that don't favor black and white, but it feels stuck in the midst. The spines of a fork in any road. A lost highway less interesting than David Lynch.

Last Lecture, Randy Pausch

The Private Gender

Have you ever wondered why we never see a man naked (or even HALF-naked most times) on television and the movies? I'm not talking about pornography; I mean your average Hollywood film or even indie flick. Even cable channels that need not be as readily concerned with potential child viewers, such as Showtime or HBO. I don't say this out of perversion, only flat out curiosity. I have wondered about this from time to time and it's easy to find any kind of rationale I suppose: Men's genitals aren't considered 'beautiful.' Men are more sensitive and vulnerable about exposing themselves because their parts are outside of their body. We live in a patriarchal society, so naturally women's bodies are more objectified than men's. But I could also easily find arguments to shoot loopholes in all those inaccurate assumptions.

Both men and women have functional body parts. If it is argued that we can display a woman's breasts because technically they are 'mammary glands' (which, let's face it folks...when viewed that way, makes them sound a whole lot LESS sexy!)....it can be argued that a man's penis is functional to urinate as well. See how silly the logic can go if we reach for any rationale?

If we live in such a patriarchal society, why aren't we seeing more men's bodies on display? Wouldn't they want to proudly display their masculinity?

If men are so incredibly self-conscious about showing their parts, then how can they urinate in front of one another at urinals every day in public restrooms?

Why is it so controversial? I got to thinking more about this the other night when I was watching one of my favorite movies, "Secretary." There is a scene at the end of the movie where Maggie Gyllenhaal is completely nude. You can see her breasts and a small patch of pubic hair revealing her genitals. Meanwhile, James Spader is completely clothed. What's up with that?

It made me wonder how each gender would react if roles were reversed for a day....if instead of seeing a woman's naked body in television, movies, media....what if it were the men who were physically exposed? I bet men would be upset if they never got to see a woman's body. After all, they are visual creatures. A little secret though....so are women! And what about gay men. No wonder they tend to resort to watching pornography; it's the only chance they have of seeing a man's naked flesh!

If roles were reversed, would we live in a world of matriarchal value where exposing a woman's body would be the ultimate taboo? Is the gender that's exposed more respected less? Does the gender that reveals less subtly hold more of a perceived power maybe? Consider the cliche' phrase we sometimes use to describe when someone has been insulted: "He/she hit below the belt." A telling phrase?

What about exposing both genders? Surely this is a sociological issue, as I know other countries are more open with exposing naked bodies than America...yet, we seem to have more hangups and repressed sexual perversions than other countries. I would have to do some research on this, but it's strongly likely.

Maybe if we were more comfortable with our bodies, the idea of nakedness wouldn't be such a prude concept after all.

What happened

The blond 9 year old sits in the condo's modest dining room, finishing up the dinner her lonely single mom has prepared for them. It is the summer of 1986 in the small New England town. The girl is sad too, but isn't old enough to understand how to articulate the confusing swirl of thoughts and emotions. It's like mother and daughter are in two separate worlds. The daughter just having returned from a busy summer filled with camp activities, the mother still struggling to make sense of the husband that had betrayed her. As the bronze tanned and chubby girl scraps off the last few bites off the plate, her mother hurriedly enters the kitchen. Water rushes out of the faucet, dishes colliding and clanging loudly underneath as mom distracts herself with completing the domestic chore. The tired girl isn't paying much attention to whether her mother is speaking to her or not. Mother wonders if her daughter is listening, continuing to raise her voice with a more stern and authoritative tone.

The girl has plopped herself on the couch in the adjacent living room. She couldn't remember what she was thinking at the time. All she remembers is that she felt trapped by the inner confines of her brain, unable to control her body for what seemed like eternity. She was alone in those moments, scared and helpless. Silent screams do no good in dire straits. "Who can believe something is wrong when there is silence?" she could only wonder in retrospect.

Mother storms out of the kitchen yelling at her daughter, furious at what seemed at the time a blatant disrespectful silent response. Time seems to have slowed down for the girl. Her body starts shaking and she can't stop this force that overpowers her being. Mother abruptly stops her disapproving complaints, which are immediately replaced with panic and fear. She was only doing dishes for a few minutes. What could have gone so wrong in such a short span of time? What did she miss and more importantly, what can she do to stop the terror that both mom and daughter are experiencing? It appears as if the girl could be swallowing her own tongue, or choking on something maybe. Mother sticks a finger or two down the girl's mouth near her throat, attempting to see if an object has become lodged there. Nothing. So she calls 9-1-1.

Within minutes an ambulance has arrived. EMT workers are able to get the girl stabilized and lying on a stretcher shortly after her body has stopped shaking. The sun is beginning to go down as surrounding nosy neighbors crowd around to stare and guess as to why this girl is being whisked away in an ambulance on a quiet summer's evening. As they wheel her out the front door of the condo, the girl has somewhat regained enough consciousness to be unexplainably embarrassed and ashamed by the dramatic, scary experience. She justs wants to disappear....herself, them, everything. But making sense of what happened will have to wait. Fatigue weighs heavily on her. It feels like days since she last slept; the intensity of what her body went through sucked all the life energy from her insides.

She awakens hours later in the comfort of her bed. A chunk of what happened to her is a big blur, a blackout triggered by something with far more serious consequences than alcohol or any kind of drug. Tests had been run, diagnoses given. But from that day forward for years to come, the girl felt self-conscious.

Mostly, she felt unsafe with herself and others.

The face of compassion

Yesterday I had the wonderful privilege of attending "Seeds of Compassion" here in Seattle at QWest Field, an event that emphasizes the need for empathy and compassion for all of humanity. The event was primarily geared towards teaching our children (the next generation) how to become beings of 'compassion in action' through attitudes of kindness, nonviolence, tolerance, and constructive dialogue with one another.

While there were various cultures and backgrounds represented, the highlight of the main event was seeing an individual who is the embodiment of the aforementioned qualities: The Dalai Lama. Despite false accusations made against harsh critics (one of which included an airplane broadcasting a banner that read "Dalai Lama, please stop supporting the riots"....flat out ludicrous, as he does NOT support violence whatsoever!), he courageously forges ahead and inspires others (me included) with his wisdom. I am happy and grateful to have enjoyed this experience with thousands of people, especially on such a gorgeous sunny and warm day!

Just being in his presence was magnificent, probably one of the most interesting and profound speeches I have had the pleasure of witnessing right before my eyes. If only everyone around the world could put forth the same kind of peaceful efforts as the Dalai Lama....I can only imagine the positive impact it would have on the whole of humanity. Wow.

Ode to Garcia's

I know it hasn't been that long, but I miss you so oh Garcia's! There will never be another one like you. Try as I did tonight at Viva Mexico (a decent Mexican restaurant) here in the Seattle area, it just wasn't up to par with you. It started with the chips and salsa. Theirs didn't look as homemade (or at all for that matter!) as yours. I was craving a salty, on the rocks margarita and well, let's just say I didn't get very far with that either. I ordered the 22 ounce and barely drank half. I had to keep licking the salt off the glass just to trick myself into believing it tasted delicious. $6.75 for just that glass and they couldn't even give me moderately top notch tequila! What were they thinking? Sigh. Dinner was good, but nothing like all YOU used to offer me.

Oh Garcia's, how you spoiled me with delectable luxury. Now that I've had the best, how can I possibly find another to surpass the divine goodness that is you? Most of all, how you brought my friends and I closer. :)

I'm more in shape than the dog.

A sad, but true statement indeed. Why? For starters, I haven't engaged in vigorous exercise (such as jogging/running) for about 4-5 months until yesterday. My eating habits are average, but definitely not stellar. I am perpetually 20-30 pounds over my ideal weight, something I've struggled with for years. And yet, my endurance and speed during exercise surpasses that of the 9 year old family Sheltie dog, Chloe. I don't know whether to be comforted, disturbed, or a combination of both by this revelation.

I took her for a walk/jog this afternoon, eager to stave off boredom and give the both of us something healthy and active to do. While I would jog off and on, she merely lagged behind on her medium long leash. In fact, I could have jogged MORE and for alot longer but I didn't because she couldn't. What is wrong with this picture, I wondered. How sad it is when a dog is more sedentary and out of shape than a human?

As far back as I can remember, food and exercise have been two sides of the same coin: an enemy in my life. Food was constantly around and exercise wasn't enforced nearly enough for it to become a part of my daily living. I've spent more years fat than thin (or more so, just less fat). The only exercise I remember doing as a child (pre-teen years) was required gym classes at school, a few karate classes I took for fun when I was around 9 or 10, and swimming in the pool during the summers. Not exactly frequent enough exercise to maintain a healthy lifestyle and ideal weight for a child quite susceptible to becoming overweight. Exercise wasn't typically framed as a fun experience, something to be shared with family members. That was usually just reserved for...yup, eating. Exercise felt more like an upward task to me, a dreaded and challenging 'chore' for an overweight girl like me to overcome on her own.

Once I started engaging in any exercise (such as jogging or rollerblading), it wasn't until my later high school and early college years. A sedentary lifestyle was more the rule than the exception within my family. My parents taught me a strong work ethic, that in order to succeed in life one must be persistent, focused, determined to work hard for it. Sometimes I wonder how growing up for me would have been different if they had instilled that same quality within me regarding my physical health. I'm not saying this in a judgmental way towards my parents, more out of just curious reflection.

My dad has always been of average to thin body weight, his eating habits also average. While I don't recall seeing him exercise much beyond my vague memories of him rollerblading and doing the occasional workout training for work-related physicals, he tends to remain active and healthy through home improvement projects and the like. I think he tends to take the all things in moderation approach. My mom, on the other hand, doesn't tend to have the best eating habits (she, like me, tends to be an emotional eater) and isn't very motivated to exercise. Years ago, she did go through a phase when she was actively and happily involved in karate classes....but once she messed up her back from it over time, she gave it up and that was that. It makes me wonder if I had more physically active parents, maybe exercising would have come more naturally and regularly with me.

I see so many parents and families that have taken it to a whole other level, an obsessive quest for competition and perfection in the name of sports. I'm certainly not enforcing that approach either (It's one of the numerous reasons I loathe sports actually, but I'm getting off topic!). All I'm talking about is creating a balance between one's physical, mental, and emotional health.

If someone's mentally or emotionally unhealthy, we usually encourage them to exercise their brain/mental muscles. The same must occur for physical health and for optimal health of oneself. After all, one's physical health can have a significant impact on one's mental and emotional health. Research confirms this! It builds confidence, motivation, relieves tension, and boosts one's energy to conquer life tasks. I'm not saying anything new; everyone knows this. So why aren't we doing anything differently? It's not just me or my family dog. Obesity rates in the United States continue to skyrocket as never before.

If being lazy is just another learned behavior we can change, why aren't we learning newer healthier behaviors?

I think one of the reasons I can empathize (if even on the slightest scale) with how difficult it is for drug addicts to become completely sober is because I am reminded of how many times and how many years I've been trying to lead a healthier lifestyle of proper diet and exercise. You can want something really bad, but it never happens in the blink of an eye.

As with addicts, "relapse" is part of the change/recovery. Being hard on yourself will only leave you feeling discouraged, defeated. Making excuses for a bad habit, however, will only enable you to keep doing it. Thus, trying a little harder and smarter with more mindfulness of what you're doing each time is part of the ongoing process. As I said, I honestly didn't start exercising much until I started college, whether by going to the gym or working out with a friend. It lasted for awhile, but sure enough, once I was in a different environment I stopped. I gained the workout momentum once again while in graduate school, going for runs by the nearby lake or using the elliptical machines at Bally's. Once I no longer could afford a gym membership though, the frequency of exercise dwindled. Naturally, I slowly gained weight that I had worked so diligently to lose in my longterm disciplinary efforts towards a more fit body.

Food isn't a drug, but it has been my destructive habit when abused....regular exercise my rehab. So in a way, this is how I can understand how long it takes to change a negatively learned behavior.

I'm not sure how long my recent motivation for being physically active will last, but I'm oddly comforted and hopeful by the fact that I'm still doing better than the dog. Maybe I can be her motivation....and she can be a reminder of my own willingness to change.

Favorites, to name but a few

Brownies (I could eat these for the rest of eternity and be a happy camper, funny because I'm not much of a sweets person otherwise!)

Six Feet Under
Love. This. Show. And Peter Krause isn't bad to look at either. Not so much on the new tv show he's on these days, but on SFU...definite eye candy.

Photography
Taking photos and looking at them. I never get sick of pictures. :)

Broken English
Excellent movie, one of the few movies I can watch a bazillion times and it still speaks to me.

Writing
Obviously. :)

Osho books
I have no idea why, but I always feel good/better when I read his books...some more than others, but all are insightful in their own way.

Traveling
There's so much you can learn and enjoy about yourself, others and the environment you're in when you're traveling. I wish I were my brother Alex right now, traveling the world. He's in Turkey and onto another country soon....

Psychology
Keeps me intellectually stimulated. Always.

Dogs
I really want one, hopefully sometime this year. :)

Sleep!
Sounds silly and simple, but so UNDER-rated and it's a FREE luxury (especially after basically feeling sleep deprived when I had to wake up at 4am up until a month ago!). :)