While working at a bookstore in the booming metropolis of Chicago, I got to know some interesting 'characters' (ie, my quirky coworkers)...two of which I befriended (can you guess which ones?) and the others I haven't seen or heard from since we stopped working together one day.
I concocted a description of some of them back in April 2003, maybe as a way to give me ideas for fictional characters if I were to ever write a novel. :)
1. Phil---white guy with short, curly black hair, late 20's. Wears black-rimmed glasses, as well as red "festive" shirts. Smokes pot every night to relax and fall asleep. Supervisor, works in the art and photography section. Goes to Columbia (an artsy school). Has a cat who likes to look out the window of his apartment, only reads fiction, wants to move outside of the US one day, insists his parents could use couple's therapy, has a sister, doesn't like Christianity (nor Nativity scenes at Christmas time), a gay man who doesn't want to live the typical gay lifestyle.
2. Brandon---white guy in his late twenties, green eyes. Reads the New York Times Monday through Friday and Newsweek on the weekend, enjoys using big words in casual conversation with others, a journalism graduate student at Northwestern, sometimes answers his phone saying "yo!," claims he's "just a white guy," once tutored kids. Physically attractive to most people (men and women). Can be seen sauntering quite a bit and mumbling witticisms, mutters softly when others ask him questions about himself, claims to be a 'common man' who drinks Old Milwaukee beer at yuppie bars like Sheffield's, admits to trimming his chest hair. Proud to be gentlemanly and chivalrous with women. Frequents a bar that serves free wine every Tuesday nights, twirls his black curly strands of hair as he talks or reads the paper. Has been known to eat very routine meals consisting of a sandwich, carrot sticks, yogurt and a banana, and drinks water alot. Thin to average build, wears Gap and/or thrift store clothes that don't always match, once got excited when someone complimented his $3 "Waldo" sweater, doesn't want to be like everyone else. Hates the suburbs. Makes jokes about masturbation. Once went to a Miami Vice themed party, has an occasional 'lonely' Friday or Saturday night. Liberal. Used to work a "boring" information systems analysis job. Sometimes wears artsy black rimmed glasses, lives off Addison in a condo, originally from Indianapolis. Made out with coworker Claire at a party. Had an ex-girlfriend who was a painter. Always listening and observing others. Would like to work for the Chicago Tribune or New York Times someday. Compliments (or corrects) words one uses in conversation with him, has lived in Chicago for 5 years and only goes home for the holidays. Not materialistic, though opinionated about certain fashion faux pas (such as not wearing white socks with dress shoes). A self-proclaimed "stoic." Works out at Bally's. Birthday is in December.
3. Meredith---20 year old white girl with lots of colorful tattoos, long black hair. Likes to wear black and thrift store clothes alot. Has many male friends. Often looks tired, eats salad alot from FoodLife in the Water Tower building on her lunch breaks. Lives with her sister, sister's boyfriend and another guy. Hates to sleep naked and has an oral fixation. Likes to drink and party. Good listener, gives encouraging pep talks to others. Got kicked out of her last apartment. Close to her dad. Smoker. Has a fat cat named "Tommy." Has been told she looks like Courtney Love, Norah Jones and Britney Spears.
4. Stephanie---Early twenties, half-Asian, half-white, originally from Colorado. Lives near the Loyola campus. Sarcastic and blunt. Has many theater friends, intelligent, interested in journalism and almost applied for law school. Considering going to medical school. Studied abroad at Oxford. Has a habit of falling for the wrong guys. Likes to go to the movies. Sorority girl in college. Works at Timothy O'Tooles too. Takes cab rides home after late night shifts. Adventurous. Has family in Hawaii, has been vegetarian for 2 years. Shamefully admitted to owning Cher's Greatest Hits, well-liked by coworkers but believes herself to be a 'bitch,' always looks hit, down-to-earth, can't stand pretentious people, at a crossroads with what to do with her life.
5. Eric W.---24 year old thin white guy with glasses. Friendly to everyone. Wears a baseball hat most of the time, frequents bars a few times/week, can be quite funny when drunk, clueless to just how many girls like him, good listener, would like to be a teacher someday, originally from Ohio, considering going to grad school. Used to live in Texas. Close to his family. Has run in the Chicago Marathon. Easy-going. Is in love with "let's just be friends" Kristen and won't give up hope that one day she will one day realize they should be together. Buys a new cd every Saturday night after work. Also works a 9-5 office job at an insurance company, likes to go to the museum, see obscure movies and do things that are different. Admits he tends to pursue women, but feels they don't pursue him (and when they do, it's not a challenge for him). Nicknamed "E Dubbs" and eats cold food alot because he doesn't have a microwave at home.
6. Michael---27 year old white gay man who claims to be the 'woman in the relationship' with his boyfriend. Down-to-earth, liked by all, witty, and intelligent. Neat and clean freak (likes to Swiffer his apartment). Lives with 3 female roomates off the Montrose brown line el stop. Once lived in Italy while working as an R.A. Originally from Indiana. Went to Loyola. Just started working at Illinois Institute of Art. Likes Trader Joe's. Can always be found cooking and eating delicious meals. Great cook. Reads fiction, as well as the Economist magazine and Italian newspapers. Sometimes smokes when he drinks. A churchgoer. Likes Star Trek, Harry Potter, and Lord of the Rings. Got laid-off at a former job and was unemployed for a year before finding a job at the bookstore. Likes to relax on Sundays. Watches BBC. Did volunteer work at a museum. Likes to try new things and places. Wants to teach someday, thinking about graduate school. Has lived in Chicago for 5 years and has two brothers (one who lives in Montana). Likes to discuss movies. Liberal.
7. Andrea---white, tall, 26 yrs old, overweight, red hair, wears glasses, smokes. Supervisor. Has been with boyfriend for 7 years, who once gave her a potholder from Target as a "fun" surprise gift. Originally from St. Louis, Missouri. Funny. Claims to not have much of a sex drive these days. Likes guys who have a baby face look. Mother died of cancer years ago and she doesn't get along with her father. Alcoholism in her family. Likes ice cream sundaes. Dislikes wearing jewelry, except for the occasional necklace. Drinks Coke alot. Buys clothes from "the fat lady store" (ie, Lane Bryant). Used to work with kids at the YMCA.
8. Brian G---white, tall, 29 years old, easy-going, reminds me of my brother Alex, slightly overweight. Likes "Six Feet Under." Has been known to go out drinking with various coworkers. Lived on the west coast. Would like to live in Washington or Vermont someday. Frequently wears the same sweatshirts and green camouflage pants. Liked by all. Has a long-term girlfriend named Sarah and lives in a not-so-good neighborhood. Sometimes sleeps for 12 hours at a time. Jokes that he may have family in the East since he and his family members found pictures of other women that 'weren't Grandma' in his grandfather's "treasure chest" after his grandfather died. Cute and funny. Supervisor. Originally from California. Owns a car that breaks down alot.
9. Braettie---white, early thirties, red hair, earring in middle of her chin, acne scars on her face, wears eclectic clothes, prefers to wear men's pants because she feels they fit better/are more comfortable. Great laugh. Sarcastic and moody. Hates Disney. Listens to Yo La Tengo music. Originally from Austin, Texas. Married to a musician named Angel. Dares to be different. Loves Belfast, Ireland more than touristy Dublin. Once wore a nametag that said "Prudence." Doesn't like working with people much. Can't tolerate stupidity. Likes funny Irish stories. Creative. Writes and likes non-conformist art.
10. Nate---white, 20 years old, tall, thin, wears funny shirts and baseball hats. Has been told he looks like the Naked Chef. Student at University of Chicago (political science major). Bought his girlfriend Maureen a guitar. Originally from the suburbs of Chicago. Has family in Indiana and Ohio. Seems close to his family, whom once had a Corgi. Nicknamed Katie "Lawson" and "Ship's Navigator," though he never explained why. Odd sense of humor. Intelligent, yet socially immature. Likes to have argumentative discussions in his classes. Vegetarian. Doesn't drink or smoke. Rarely takes himself seriously. Tells funny stories. Hangs out with Meredith and Brian R alot. Wears good smelling deodorant that smells like cologne. Doesn't have cable tv. Frequently stays up till early morning hours and sleeps only a few hours before getting up.
11. Brian R---white, 21 years old, medium height, black curly hair, shaves his head in the summer, originally from Chicago. Plays basketball. Watches Seinfeld, Simpsons and South Park. Jokester with everyone. Lives at home with his parents and sister. Has a friend he calls "Buddy Holly" (real name is Freddy). Ran after a girl to ask her out. Tells funny stories. Hangs out with his 25 year old friend "Crazy Julia," along with Nate and Meredith. Has perfectly shaped white teeth when he smiles. Laid-back. Once told Katie she should be the natural laugh track for his future tv show.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
A cup of coffee
(Written April 30, 2006)"What are you doing tonight?" she asks curiously, as she debates whether she will ask him if he'd like to grab a cup of coffee now that they're off from work. She decides she won't ask him, as she's always the one initiating their spending time together and is to the point where she really wonders if he cares for her or not.
"I don't know. Probably just hang out, watch some movies with my friends tonight. I was thinking about going to get a cup of coffee though. Do you want to go?"
"Sure," she answers casually, but on the inside slightly surprised and relieved that he wants to spend time with her. They have been friends for almost three years now and she has had an unexplainable thing for him from the beginning (Little did he know until 8 months ago...).
"Just give me a few minutes to read the last chapter of this comic book and then we'll go."
"Ok. Where should I meet you, here or upstairs?"
"You can just wait here...."
"That's fine. I'd like ot sit down for a few minutes anyway" she replies, as she plops lazily on the couch-like black leather chair a few feet away from him.
She has had a long day at work. You see, for about a year now, she has been working six days a week, Monday through Saturday, at the crack of dawn (literally) at a methadone clinic and continues to give a little bit of time to her favorite bookstore in downtown Chicago on Saturday afternoons. Although she is exhausted by Saturday, she isn't quite ready to let go of the supplemental income, the intellectual stimulation in the air, and of course...him. So she keeps going, yawning all the while, but happy because she can't imagine her life without his presence...not quite yet.
"Are you ready?" He gathers his beige messenger bag, stuffing the comic book deep into its pockets, then flapping it shut.
"Yeah, let's go."
It's early evening and dreary with light rain falling as they gaze out the window. Juan has an umbrella that he prepares to open as they step out into the damp, misty air. He exchanges brief small talk and goodbyes with two of their male coworkers who are leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette and making chit-chat. "Ok, bye, see ya later."
Juan offers his umbrella to Katie. She has her own, but tells him it's all disheveled from trying to use it in the horrendous rain/wind storm the previous day. The gentleman that he is, offers it to her and won't take no for an answer.
"Alright. Thank you," she says sheepishly as she opens it up and attempts to hold it over her head against resistant winds. "Actually that's ok. The wind is pretty bad and it's too much effort to hold this thing in the wind..." and gives it back to Juan.
They talk a bit as they walk one block over to the Starbucks on Chicago Ave. They go inside and stand in line behind six people who are waiting to place their orders to the baristas.
"You gave me a reality check back there, Juan. You've made me aware that maybe I need to be more positive. It's easy to get stuck in a rut and get negative about things, but I realize I have a lot of good things in my life."
As they had been shelving books close by each other in the travel section at work, Juan had made an observatory remark that Katie doesn't seem as happy as she used to be in the past. She had asked him if he meant that she doesn't seem appreciative of what she has (because she is), but he just wants her to see she's got a lot goin' on for her.
Inching closer to the front of the line, he reveals to Katie that he too had been feeling less than positive until about a month ago and that while he doesn't look any different, people at work have been responding to him differently, complimenting him, and getting him to be more social.
"I'll have a tall nonfat latte please" Katie tells the friendly cashier, handing the woman her Starbucks giftcard.
Juan orders a grande vanilla latte and while they wait for their drinks to be made....
"I do have one positive thing to tell you--"
"You have lots of positive things" he interrupts her, misunderstanding what she is about to say.
"No, I know. I mean, I have an example of one positive thing that happened this past week at work. I'm starting to get more creative in working with my clients, doing sessions with couples and family members, because my boss is giving me the freedom to do different things, so in a way, I guess I'm getting to do some family therapy kind of stuff after all."
They grab their drinks from the counter and head over to put some sweetener in their coffees.
Katie continues sharing insights and ponderings from the last few days regarding change. It fascinates her how everyone falls on the continuum of change, some slow to change and others change fast before your very eyes.
"I've learned there are three kinds of people. There are walkers, runners, and jumpers," Juan begins.
"What is that, Juan's philosophy?" she jokes playfully.
"Yeah."
"So which one are you?" Katie inquires curiously, eager to hear his answer.
"I'm a walker."
"And me?"
"You're definitely a runner."
"What is a jumper then?"
"Jumpers are people who have everything going for them. They're the ones who graduate two years earlier than everyone else, that sort of thing."
"Hmmm." Katie ponders and again is reminded of why she has not been able to let go of her feelings for this guy over the past year, despite knowing almost without a doubt they they will never be more than friends now or anytime in the future. Flirtation and intimate conversations are as close to 'couple' like behaviors as they will get.
Sitting at a corner table by the window, they talk casually about life and things that only make they laugh and smile. He's still bitter about his ex-wife Lisa. It has been years since their stint of a marriage, but he has yet to let go of the hurt and allow himself to love and trust again. Katie had tried, but the pain and fear inside him is much stronger than all the love she can give. He wants to step outside that comfort zone and take a risk, but all he can do is hold back. She realizes she needs more than he is able to give. Despite her past yearnings, she is slowly feeling like loving him for the kind, wonderful person and friend he has been in her life the last three years.
At one point, Katie looks at Juan and thinking back to him comment earlier about his not looking different, she now tends to disagree...he does look different, healthier even. His hair has grown a bit more, so it looks slightly darker. His facial complexion looks clearer and he is smiling away as she stares at him thinking about how he looks to her. She keeps it to herself, however, as she doesn't want him to be self-conscious, nor him to know she is studying his appearance with her eyes.
An hour goes by and it is time to go. Juan is off to meet up with his new friends, Jasmine and Michelle, who live near him out near Midway airport on the south side. Katie is exhausted from her long week of counseling the various addicts that walk into her office in the wee hours of the morning.
"What are you going to do tonight?" he asks her.
"I think I'm just going to hang out at home tonight and relax since I went out last night..." Katie responds.
He walks with her to the bus stop and turning towards each other, give a sideways hug. Katie puts her arms around him with warmth in gratitude of their friendship, while Juan limply puts one arm around her. Katie is a little hurt by his lack of enthusiasm, sensing his somewhat distance nature, but brushes it off.
"Bye Juan."
"See ya later..." he trails off. Katie scurries off to catch the #145 bus that has just pulled up at the bus stop in front of Water Tower on Michigan Avenue.
She sits on the bus, content now. Not because she is going over and over in her mind the events of the past hour with Juan, but because for once, time spent with Juan doesn't cross her mind.
My Secret Vice
(Written May 1, 2006)Once in a blue moon, I crave a cigarette. I'm not addicted to nicotine, nor do I want to stop completely. It's more of the ritual of it--wanting a cigarette if I'm stressed to the bone or chilling in a social situation with other smokers. Why is it a "secret" vice? Not everyone I know has seen me smoke and would never guess that I sometimes partake of ciggies. Even Andrew, a guy I dated, never knew I smoked. I think the only people here in Chicago who have seen me smoke are some Borders people and Melissa (when she was still here). Sometimes I feel guilty or physically shitty afterwards, but not always. I will rarely buy my own pack though, as then, I would just smoke regularly. Of course there was a time I was smoking frequently....when I was in high school (stupid). I was hanging out with Stephanie and Doug too much, as well as other Kingwood smokers. Then there was late nights at Denny's, bored out of our minds because what else is there to do when you're 17-18 years old in a drab Texas suburb?
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Comparing yourself to.....yourself?
Last night I was going through some photos to post and organize online, some of which were of myself taken either alone or with friends. I found myself really looking at my features, how I looked 'back then' as opposed to now. In most of the pictures, I thought I looked attractive...thinner even. It made me wonder if I really looked better and more attractive in those pictures than I am now or if my mind is just playing games with itself to mess with me psychologically. Does anyone else do this (have you ever felt this way?) or am I crazy?
Maybe it's also a matter of my not being happy with the way I look these days, as I have very little time with my work schedule and commute to exercise. I need to do something about it because I feel really gross and not as healthy or confident as I do when I am able to workout regularly. It's more than physically though.
It also permeates into my creative talents and abilities too. I find myself comparing my writing now to my writing from the past. I feel like my writing isn't as juicy and interesting as it was when I was living in Chicago. My imagination felt more vivid and quirky, possibly due to living in a highly stimulated city?
One would think a writer's works would become more original, less dull. Then again, look at some of the great writers of our time who churned out their "great American (or European,etc.) novel" at a ripe twenty-something age, only to disappear into obscurity thereafter. How can one go backward from greatness? If it's a process of evolution, wouldn't it only get better? Or is it having expectation of the outcome that threatens our aptitude for joy, creativity and success in our endeavors?
Last weekend when my friend K. was visiting, I was telling her how I felt the most creative and quirky with my expressing that side of my personality when I was working at the bookstore. I wrote in a journal regularly, wrote entertaining and descriptive character sketches of different 'characters' (ie, actual real people who I thought were odd and interesting to make characters out of for a possible story one day: coworkers, customers, homeless regulars), and I always had something to write about. I wrote letters and emails to people regularly, papers for school, jot down thoughts I happened to be pondering or experiences I had. It was a good balance of using my imagination and my intellect. I was also in grad school, so maybe being in both an academic and literary environment helped balance these aspects of myself. Still, it boggles my mind.
Sometimes I wonder if my creativity would be more pronounced if I didn't have to be as engrossed in my therapy work. It's as if most of my creative and analytical faculties get channeled into that to where there's not much left in my brain. It would be so nice if I could do counseling work part-time and then do my writing and photography as my other 'part-time' gig....
Just to demonstrate what I'm talking about as far as things I have written in the past, I am going to gather some things I've written in years past and post them here as I come across them. I want people to see writings that have only seen my eyes, my pre-blogging years. May the Katie from Chicago past help inspire the bloggin' Katie present....
Maybe it's also a matter of my not being happy with the way I look these days, as I have very little time with my work schedule and commute to exercise. I need to do something about it because I feel really gross and not as healthy or confident as I do when I am able to workout regularly. It's more than physically though.
It also permeates into my creative talents and abilities too. I find myself comparing my writing now to my writing from the past. I feel like my writing isn't as juicy and interesting as it was when I was living in Chicago. My imagination felt more vivid and quirky, possibly due to living in a highly stimulated city?
One would think a writer's works would become more original, less dull. Then again, look at some of the great writers of our time who churned out their "great American (or European,etc.) novel" at a ripe twenty-something age, only to disappear into obscurity thereafter. How can one go backward from greatness? If it's a process of evolution, wouldn't it only get better? Or is it having expectation of the outcome that threatens our aptitude for joy, creativity and success in our endeavors?
Last weekend when my friend K. was visiting, I was telling her how I felt the most creative and quirky with my expressing that side of my personality when I was working at the bookstore. I wrote in a journal regularly, wrote entertaining and descriptive character sketches of different 'characters' (ie, actual real people who I thought were odd and interesting to make characters out of for a possible story one day: coworkers, customers, homeless regulars), and I always had something to write about. I wrote letters and emails to people regularly, papers for school, jot down thoughts I happened to be pondering or experiences I had. It was a good balance of using my imagination and my intellect. I was also in grad school, so maybe being in both an academic and literary environment helped balance these aspects of myself. Still, it boggles my mind.
Sometimes I wonder if my creativity would be more pronounced if I didn't have to be as engrossed in my therapy work. It's as if most of my creative and analytical faculties get channeled into that to where there's not much left in my brain. It would be so nice if I could do counseling work part-time and then do my writing and photography as my other 'part-time' gig....
Just to demonstrate what I'm talking about as far as things I have written in the past, I am going to gather some things I've written in years past and post them here as I come across them. I want people to see writings that have only seen my eyes, my pre-blogging years. May the Katie from Chicago past help inspire the bloggin' Katie present....
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Back to back, eyes to eyes
In class today, my professor had all of us do a very revealing exercise. I'm still thinking about the meaning...
He chose a partner for each student and told us it wasn't a sitting exercise. Everyone had to stand in front of their partner (there are about 30 students total in my class). My partner was a guy named Kyle, someone I've only seen in class once or twice....basically a stranger to me. I know nothing about the guy. I didn't even know his name until we briefly exchanged a "Hi, my name is...." with one another as we stood facing each other before the prof gave us further instructions. We were told to turn around and lean against our partner, so that our backs touched.
"Close your eyes. Pay attention to what's going on....are you comfortable in the position you're in? Notice how you both respond to each other/how it feels..."
(At first, I noticed I wasn't leaning as closely as I could....standing more upright, slightly distant from his body. But then, as the prof mentioned being comfortable...I noticed I wasn't and shifted to a more comfortable position. I became more at ease and actually liked the feeling of my partner and I 'supporting' each other in this leaning posture. I could also sense him breathing in and out, the warmth in the space between our backs. I know that probably sounds weird...and it was, but it was also nice).
This went on for maybe 2 minutes, our eyes closed the whole time.
The prof then said "When I say 'now,' I want you to turn around and make eye contact with each other for at least 40 to 60% of the time. "Now."
My partner and I turn around, standing with maybe about 3 feet between us. We make eye contact. I'm looking into his eyes, he into mine. The first 10 seconds was attainable for me, no problem. Any longer than that (consistently) became difficult for me. I felt uncomfortable, like I was being intrusive. I had to look away a few times, smiled and almost laughed. Or if I stared into his eyes, after the 10 second-ish mark I found myself looking at some other part of his face like a freckle or two below his brown eyes. This exercise lasted a minute or two, but felt like eternity....like we just looked deep into each other's private psyches or something. After it was over, Kyle said to me "Thank you for that." He said it in such a neutral way, however, that it was hard to tell whether he was joking or serious. I honestly couldn't tell....hence, I said nothing in response. (I thought he did better at the eye thing than I did. I'm not sure whether he was uncomfortable or not....but it didn't seem like it!)
The prof then had us sit back down and have a class discussion about the thoughts and feelings we experienced while doing the exercise with our partner. It was interesting to listen to diverse perceptions across the board. One woman said that she had actually done this exercise before for some Tantric class and that the eyes part of the exercise actually made either she (or her partner, I can't remember which) cry. Another student said he just found himself going through the motions of the exercise simply because he was instructed to do so, nothing more.
Many people seemed to feel some kind of positive energy (even 'communication' via responding to partner's body language) while doing the back part....and mixed feelings while looking into their partner's eyes. I was actually quite surprised by the fact that some people felt comfortable with the eyes part. Or maybe I just wished I was one of them. I told my prof that I felt like I was being intrusive while looking into my partner's eyes (to which my partner agreed by saying "It was intruding," but said it in a neutral tone and did not elaborate on his experience other than that). My instructor asked if I normally have a hard time making eye contact with people. "No, not at all. It was the length of time that made me uncomfortable..."
It started to make me wonder if I have some issues with intimacy, or more specifically....made me wonder if my level of discomfort is average or below average that of what is considered a 'normal' level of anxiety in regard to this kind of 'revealing' type of communication.
I remember learning some interesting things about nonverbal communication in a speech class I took during my undergrad college days....that 75% of what we communicate to others is through our body language. Eye contact norms vary depending on the culture. In the U.S., I think the average person can only sustain eye contact with another person for about 4-10 seconds before it tends to get uncomfortable/cause anxiety in one or both individuals. So maybe it doesn't have to do with intimacy (at least not totally), but going against the grain of cultural norms?
In any case, it was a cool learning experience in regard to nonverbal communication with a complete stranger. Would it be drastically different with someone I already know well (and/or that knows me well)? Easier? Scarier? More comfortable or less comfortable? What if it were a lover as opposed to a friend? A coworker as opposed to a family member? Someone I don't like much as a person?
Furthermore, is the response even dictated by relationship (or lack thereof)?
He chose a partner for each student and told us it wasn't a sitting exercise. Everyone had to stand in front of their partner (there are about 30 students total in my class). My partner was a guy named Kyle, someone I've only seen in class once or twice....basically a stranger to me. I know nothing about the guy. I didn't even know his name until we briefly exchanged a "Hi, my name is...." with one another as we stood facing each other before the prof gave us further instructions. We were told to turn around and lean against our partner, so that our backs touched.
"Close your eyes. Pay attention to what's going on....are you comfortable in the position you're in? Notice how you both respond to each other/how it feels..."
(At first, I noticed I wasn't leaning as closely as I could....standing more upright, slightly distant from his body. But then, as the prof mentioned being comfortable...I noticed I wasn't and shifted to a more comfortable position. I became more at ease and actually liked the feeling of my partner and I 'supporting' each other in this leaning posture. I could also sense him breathing in and out, the warmth in the space between our backs. I know that probably sounds weird...and it was, but it was also nice).
This went on for maybe 2 minutes, our eyes closed the whole time.
The prof then said "When I say 'now,' I want you to turn around and make eye contact with each other for at least 40 to 60% of the time. "Now."
My partner and I turn around, standing with maybe about 3 feet between us. We make eye contact. I'm looking into his eyes, he into mine. The first 10 seconds was attainable for me, no problem. Any longer than that (consistently) became difficult for me. I felt uncomfortable, like I was being intrusive. I had to look away a few times, smiled and almost laughed. Or if I stared into his eyes, after the 10 second-ish mark I found myself looking at some other part of his face like a freckle or two below his brown eyes. This exercise lasted a minute or two, but felt like eternity....like we just looked deep into each other's private psyches or something. After it was over, Kyle said to me "Thank you for that." He said it in such a neutral way, however, that it was hard to tell whether he was joking or serious. I honestly couldn't tell....hence, I said nothing in response. (I thought he did better at the eye thing than I did. I'm not sure whether he was uncomfortable or not....but it didn't seem like it!)
The prof then had us sit back down and have a class discussion about the thoughts and feelings we experienced while doing the exercise with our partner. It was interesting to listen to diverse perceptions across the board. One woman said that she had actually done this exercise before for some Tantric class and that the eyes part of the exercise actually made either she (or her partner, I can't remember which) cry. Another student said he just found himself going through the motions of the exercise simply because he was instructed to do so, nothing more.
Many people seemed to feel some kind of positive energy (even 'communication' via responding to partner's body language) while doing the back part....and mixed feelings while looking into their partner's eyes. I was actually quite surprised by the fact that some people felt comfortable with the eyes part. Or maybe I just wished I was one of them. I told my prof that I felt like I was being intrusive while looking into my partner's eyes (to which my partner agreed by saying "It was intruding," but said it in a neutral tone and did not elaborate on his experience other than that). My instructor asked if I normally have a hard time making eye contact with people. "No, not at all. It was the length of time that made me uncomfortable..."
It started to make me wonder if I have some issues with intimacy, or more specifically....made me wonder if my level of discomfort is average or below average that of what is considered a 'normal' level of anxiety in regard to this kind of 'revealing' type of communication.
I remember learning some interesting things about nonverbal communication in a speech class I took during my undergrad college days....that 75% of what we communicate to others is through our body language. Eye contact norms vary depending on the culture. In the U.S., I think the average person can only sustain eye contact with another person for about 4-10 seconds before it tends to get uncomfortable/cause anxiety in one or both individuals. So maybe it doesn't have to do with intimacy (at least not totally), but going against the grain of cultural norms?
In any case, it was a cool learning experience in regard to nonverbal communication with a complete stranger. Would it be drastically different with someone I already know well (and/or that knows me well)? Easier? Scarier? More comfortable or less comfortable? What if it were a lover as opposed to a friend? A coworker as opposed to a family member? Someone I don't like much as a person?
Furthermore, is the response even dictated by relationship (or lack thereof)?
Monday, October 13, 2008
Law enforcement involvement with mental health
I got this interesting article in a work email today and had to share it on my blog. It's incredibly refreshing to see law enforcement (Seattle PD, Crisis Intervention Unit) getting involved from a more solution focused approach to mental health treatment....a truly systemic model. You know the saying "It takes a village to raise a child?" Well, here ya go.....Seattle police unit reaches out to the mentally ill
Two officers dedicated to helping people get treatment, and heading off crises
By SCOTT GUTIERREZ
P-I REPORTER
The former social worker on Ravenna Avenue Northeast used to help the vulnerable. Now, she's the one who needs help.
When she's delusional, the 66-year-old can be violent toward neighbors. In two years, her neighbors have called police a dozen times.
As Seattle Police Officers Scott Enright and Suzie Parton pull up one afternoon in September, they can barely see her home behind a wall of overgrown blackberry bushes. They wonder if she will be calm, confused or even safe.
She has physically attacked one neighbor and dumped cat box filler through another's sunroof. One night, she pounded on a sleeping 3-year-old's bedroom window, beckoning the child to come outside.
"That was super-scary for that family," said Parton, part of the Crisis Intervention Unit, which specializes in working with the mentally ill.
The woman isn't sick or dangerous enough to be detained for psychiatric help. Yet, when she's been arrested, her mental problems made her incapable of facing criminal charges.
With resources limited for the mentally ill, police often are the first to get called when someone is having a psychiatric meltdown. In a unique approach, the Seattle Police Department dedicated two officers to cases such as this one, hoping to prevent crises before they turn tragic.
Part cop, part social worker, Enright and Parton look for solutions for people who commit crimes because they are undiagnosed, off their meds or lacking access to services. They coordinate with social workers, probation officers and mental health professionals, hoping to get unstable people off the streets and into treatment, or jail.
"Getting them the treatment and social services they need meets a public safety need, which is what we're about," Enright said.
They focus mostly on misdemeanors, hoping to intervene before mental problems cause someone to commit more serious crimes. Many offenders have more serious records and a history of drug or alcohol abuse. Some cases don't result in arrests, yet the person is a constant source of 911 calls. Sometimes, they look into noncriminal matters that might otherwise slip under the radar, such as neighbor disputes that exhibit odd behavior.
"A large part of our work is threat assessment," said Sgt. L.G. Eddy, who heads the unit. "Sometimes we find when they go out and chat that there is way more to it than what got reported that day."
Among cases they've worked on:
A naked man at Westlake Center who was arrested more than 20 times in a year, costing taxpayers about $50,000. The officers met with the man's caretakers at a state-funded group home and pressured them to pay closer attention. He's been under control since.
A schizophrenic man who frightened neighbors by repeatedly shouting from his balcony.
A North Seattle man whose rants toward his mother prompted the officers to dig further and discover a "freaky" arsenal of weapons in his bedroom, including clubs with metal spikes, samurai swords and playing cards fitted with metal razor edges.
"I think our intervention prevented some real newsworthy violence," Enright said. "But obviously you can't know what you prevented because you prevented it."
Still, the officers emphasize that people with mental illness aren't any more violent than the general population.
"But they get a lot more attention when they do something violent," Parton said.
Enright and Parton form an investigative arm of the unit, which started in 1998 as a training program to teach patrol officers better techniques for defusing confrontations with mentally ill people who are aggressive. It followed two tense situations in 1996 and 1997, including an 11-hour standoff with a sword-wielding man downtown, which officers resolved peacefully.
Eddy pushed to expand the program by dedicating an officer who would serve as a liaison to social services and Mental Health Court . In 2001, Parton, a veteran hostage negotiator who has a background in social work, was the first to join. Enright, a former motorcycle officer and Anti-Crime Team member, was first assigned four years ago.
Having the specialized unit and training doesn't compensate for a lack of publicly funded resources for people who are in need of mental health care, Eddy said.
"All the police training in the world is not going to take care of this issue," she said.
In the near future, the officers could be teamed up with county mental health professionals, who hold the authority to decide when someone should be involuntarily committed for 72-hour emergency psychiatric help. The project is one of many the King County Council approved last week as part of a $50 million plan to expand services for the mentally ill and reduce mental-health related incarcerations by 30 percent. The money will come from a one-tenth of 1 percent sales tax increase.
By accompanying officers on calls, mental health workers could see how someone is behaving in the moment and not after he or she is in a controlled environment, Eddy said.
The officers' cases generally are referred to the city's Mental Health Court , which was the fourth in the nation when it was established in 1999 as a means to treat the underlying disorders behind some criminal behavior.
Unlike a traditional adversarial system, the court is set up so that all sides work toward rehabilitating the client. A defendant who is eligible agrees to enter an intensive, closely monitored two-year treatment and housing program.
"These officers take the extra time and effort to learn how to better deal with these clients," said Russell Kurth, the public defender assigned to Mental Health Court .
The officers often consult him on the best way to bring someone in and move quickly to find someone who broke a court order or missed a hearing, Kurth said.
For the officers, it's satisfying to see when they arrest someone who turns his or her life around through the court.
Enright points to the man who amassed the weapons in his bedroom.
"I still see him every once in a while. He's still on probation and really doing well," Enright said. He noted, however, that a court order prevents the man from contacting his mother, which was tough for the family.
Parton was working last month to untangle the case of a newlywed who had for years successfully coped with bipolar disorder. A few months ago, she fell apart, and when her family tried to take her to the hospital for a mental exam, she tried to run.
With no other options, the woman's mother called police. The officer who responded tried to stop the daughter, who threw a punch. The woman, who had no prior criminal record, is now charged with assault and spent weeks in jail when she needed treatment, Parton said.
"Sometimes I just want to answer 911 calls," she said. "You want to have a happy ending, but sometimes in this work, you can go weeks without one."
A ticket to Mental Health Court isn't automatic, especially if the person is deemed not competent to stand trial because of his or her illness. In a majority of misdemeanor cases, that means the charges are dismissed and the person is released.
That frustrates the officers, who think the state's competency laws should at least provide supervision for someone who committed a crime and is released. People with competency issues can be civilly committed, but only if the state can prove that they are an imminent danger or gravely disabled, and that there is no alternative. As a result, patients are committed in only a small percentage of cases.
The officers say that creates a revolving door of "frequent fliers" who are back out on the street with no treatment.
"I appreciate that we're in America , and I appreciate civil rights. But I think people need to have the opportunity to get better, and when they're not in their right minds, I don't think the choice should always be, 'Don't put them in the hospital,' " Parton said.
Changing the state's involuntary commitment law to mandate treatment for those with a significant history of violence was one of several recommendations from a task force appointed to examine the state's mental health system. The task force was convened after James Williams, a repeat violent offender with schizophrenia, killed Shannon Harps on New Year's Eve.
King County is discussing other options such as a "crisis diversion center," where police could take someone who can't be detained for referrals to services.
Back at the Ravenna Avenue home, the former social worker isn't home when Enright and Parton arrive, although her back door is wide open. Her shopping cart is tipped over into a bush.
Trash, mostly dozens of empty Lean Cuisine cartons, flows out the door onto the back porch. The woman has no plumbing and is known to use buckets around her yard as toilets, Parton said.
On a prior visit, Enright was forced to handcuff her after she assaulted a neighbor. She had forgotten by the next visit.
Living alone and with no immediate family, the woman was worried about her roof. Enright climbed up for her and took care of it. "He inspected her gutters, and that was it. She just loves him now," Parton said.
As the officers call out the woman's name, another concern emerges. Vandals have recently begun picking on the woman. Someone recently broke in and left a message in graffiti on the kitchen wall: "Do you feel me crazy lady?"
"I don't want her to become a victim," Enright said.
They decide to enter the home and trudge through the garbage. They peek into a bedroom and stop. Splashed across her walls and pillows is a dried, brown substance that resembles blood.
The officers don't see or smell a dead body, but fearing they might have entered a crime scene, they back out. Enright calls for assistance from a patrol sergeant, and once he arrives, they re-enter. They find an opened bottle of barbecue sauce on the bed.
Enright and Parton breathe a sigh of relief, but wonder if the stains are another prank on the woman.
A week later, they learn from neighbors that the woman came home. So, they plan to visit again and are working with Adult Protective Services as the city begins proceedings to appoint her a legal guardian.
"Last year, we were more concerned about her neighbors' well-being," Enright said. "This year, we're more concerned about her well-being."
Friday, October 10, 2008
Con-sensual?
When alcohol is involved, sexual activity between two people can become very questionable. Sex WITHOUT alcohol can be complicated enough, but add alcohol and hazy judgment? This does not make for a good scenario, especially if blackouts are a factor. Don't worry, I'm not talking about myself; it's something I heard today that really bothered me.In any case, hearing about this particular story made me realize how much of a double standard it can be if you think about it and even more confusing to make sense of in a society already full of misogyny. Makes you wonder.
If a man and a woman get totally drunk, and the man blacks out later to find out he doesn't remember having sex with the woman....it's more likely perceived as a poor judgment call, but we don't question whether the man could have been drugged and raped, right? But when it's the other way around, we are alarmed and wonder: was it consensual? And is it really consensual if she can't remember that she consented?! Is it rape if she consented, but may have not been coherent enough to be aware of whether he did or did not wear a condom (because he was probably on the verge of blacking out himself)? Or was it a manipulative, sadistic drug-induced setup the whole time?
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Ramblings of a therapist
Today I realized that I need to do more for myself, at least as far as self-care goes. I am constantly taking care of everyone else; my need to be nurtured tends to come secondary a majority of the time....and that's just not right. I'm not sure how that translates in my life exactly, but I'm working on exploring that more. Maybe it means more spontaneity.....like doing something I really want to do on a whim. Having this realization today, I decided to do something I haven't done in awhile: have some Thai food, my favorite ethnic meal. It was delicious. :)
I had class today and while alot of it was quite common sense to my level of education and work experience, I am always able to extrapolate some kind of newfound knowledge, insight,etc. What did I glean from today's discussion? (Aside from realizing I need to take care of myself more....)
The attachments we form in childhood with our parents are more significant and incomparable to that of any other social relationship from then on. If that attachment isn't there early on, an unhealthy form of attachment to a substance of some sort (drugs, gambling, food, ad infinitum...take your pick of the proverbial non-human variety) is more likely to occur. One is more apt to have increased insecurity and an inability to form intimate relationships (aka, healthy attachments in adulthood, specifically in regard to romantic relationships).
It never occurred to me that choosing a substance in a way is a SUBstitute for the absence of a significant bond of attachment. The substance becomes the 'relationship' of attachment. When seen in such a systemic framework, it becomes clear how an addiction can become so seemingly impossible to let go off from one's life. It's a safety net, a security.
If someone told you that in order to make a change in your life, you had to let go of your relationship to your parent(s)....the only attachment(s) you've ever truly connected with, how would you respond? Just how open or resistant might you be to change?
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Working with issues: my own and others
Last week, you may recall I mentioned that I would be posting a short paper I have to write for my Chemical Dependency and the Family class. I basically had to write one page about a distressing quality (aka, personal issue) about myself that could impact or interfere with working effectively with a chemically dependent family. It was difficult to write only one page, seeing as I'm so verbose and all....but here it is.....Setting high standards for myself has typically worked out favorably for me, at least as far as reaching my goals. Growing up the daughter of a cop and a teacher, a love of learning and a strong work ethic were instilled within me at a young age. I always went the extra scholastic mile, and it showed. I graduated from undergraduate college with honors and went on to get my master's degree in counseling. While this worked well for me in academia, it was a whole different ballgame in the counseling arena of chemical dependency.
It wasn't until I started my first official counseling job working as a substance abuse counselor at a methadone maintainence clinic that I realized how much this quality about myself caused me distress. It also made me ineffective in my work with addicts. My perfectionistic, overachieving standards many times left me feeling like I was working harder than them. I was tired, stressed out, and miserable. I think it also made me less relateable as a person. If I couldn't go with the flow and make mistakes, how could they feel they could do the same in their recovery? I had to release my need for control. I also had to give up thinking that if I worked real hard to help a client, it automatically meant they would magically become sober and make positive changes. If only it were that easy for addicts!
Interestingly, I noticed my work became more effective as I worked on modifying this quality within myself. Sessions with clients became more relaxed, sometimes taking on a life its own. What started off as a distressing quality in the past has morphed into something valuable in the present. Working with a chemically dependent population has impacted my ability to be more patient (with both myself and the client) and more effectively meet clients 'where they're at.'
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Ski lifts, stab wounds, and a new boyfriend?
How can dreams (and/or nightmares) have so much influence on our mood when we wake up, assuming we remember them? Ok, maybe not you...but this is certainly the case for me. Maybe because I'm such a visual and emotional person? I don't know.My dreams have been pretty intense and stressful the past few weeks. In any case, not a good feeling. Two such nightmares:
1. My mom and I were at some ski resort place. We were standing near ski lifts (ya know, those 'chairs' that whisk you away up into the sky to where you need to need to be dropped off for skiiing) and I felt pressured to make sure we got on the ski lift. But it wasn't easy. The ski lift was far away or stuck to where it couldn't just scoop us up real close. I looked at my mom and she had this look on her face like she was really counting on me to pull this off. We must have had somewhere real important to be (haha)! I realized I would have to jump pretty far....and wide. We were at a high altitude already, which meant there were several feel beneath me. If I didn't jump the right way and catch onto the ski lift, I would likely fall and die. Yet, I never got a feeling that I had any choice in the matter. I HAD to get on this ski lift and I had to get my mom on there with me. So scared beyond belief with adrenaline coursing through my body, I jumped. And we made it onto the ski lift. End of dream.
2. I'm inside an empty house, alone. I walk around because I can hear something and naturally, I feel the need to investigate (this is where in hindsight I must sound like one of those dumb people you see in scary movies that decides to snoop around a house and has no clue they're about to be killed....still scared, the person leisurely roams around the house). As I come around a corner, I peer into a room and straight ahead of me I see a woman (whom I recognize in 'real life' as M, an intern at my work) and a man. They are standing in front of a window. The room is lit by the sun. Their backs are facing me; they don't see I am there. The way they are standing makes me wonder if they are initiating sex with each other....when it dawns on me that as he is standing behind her, he proceeds to STAB her in the back five times. The bizarre thing though was that it almost seemed fake, more fake than in a movie. She hardly reacted. I had to really look (I felt more freaked out than she did). She had five small puncture wounds on her back, just barely bleeding. I started to walk away and find someone. Just then, I hear other voices. I am relieved that someone else is there to help. But when I gaze into the kitchen, I can see my coworker S. with a few other coworkers taking groceries out of plastic bags. They are oblivious to my presence. I suddenly don't know which is worse: M being stabbed or me feeling like I am invisible to people, like a fly on the wall.
Can you see why sleeping hasn't been all that fun for me lately? :) This morning was the first time in awhile, however, where I woke up from a good dream. I don't remember the details as vividly as the nightmares (how typical). All I do know is that the British guy was in my dream. Hahaha. No matter where I went, he was tagging along with me. It was as if I couldn't get rid of him. At first I tried to rationalize his presence as coincidence, that we just happened to be going to the same places. I slowly started to realize he wanted to go everywhere with me, like he was my boyfriend. In this case, I hope a dream becomes more than 'just a dream.'
Friday, October 3, 2008
Twilight Zone?
The recurring theme of my thoughts this whole week: "Am I in the Twilight Zone?" It's been a strange week with people, personally and professionally. No matter how much I think I have a particular person figured out, they will do something to surprise me. This is especially true in regard to relationship dynamics. No matter how much I can logically remind myself that my connection with someone can both wax OR wane (because let's face it, interpersonal relationships with others can be confounding)....every time it happens, it's as if it's happening for the first time. It's like I have relationship amnesia.There are those relationships where I feel connected to someone for a long time and then something happens and then one day it's just not there. I get depressed, wondering what the hell happened and if I will reconnect. Or if it's lost forever. Sometimes I wonder if I will connect with another human being as strongly as I did this person I just 'lost.' Then something strange will happen: A relationship I've had that has felt uninteresting and superficial will somehow morph into this beautiful thing, also from an abstract place I cannot comprehend. Instead of depression, a deep sense of love comes over me, almost euphoric.
Then there are others that are somewhere in between there, the most confusing of all. A particular relationship of this nature can be exhilarating, frustrating, satisfying, meaningful, twisted, seemingly fucked up in their own right, pleasantly unpredictable, unpleasantly unpredictable, and quite the paradox of normality. Yet, the minute people stop surprising me this way and evoking such emotion within me.....now THAT will be the real Twilight Zone.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Heroin addiction
I happened to catch this on Oprah tonight (it's also to be featured on ABC's Nightline at 11:30). A dangerously prevalent issue....one close to my heart (in the previous 3 years of work I did with heroin and opiate addicted individuals). I had to share this here on my blog. I tried to find actual video footage of either/both programs, but to no avail. If you find Oprah or Nightline and get a chance to watch tonight's episodes, please do. If not, I have attached the following informative article. Refreshingly, it doesn't sugarcoat drug addiction as Hollywood can tend to do; it's raw and very real. People need to be educated on this increasingly pervasive problem, the disturbing reality of heroin addiction.....(Picture at left: The Richland County Sheriff's Department regularly confiscates drug paraphenalia from drivers who inject heroin on their way back from buying the drug in Columbus, Ohio. ABC News)
Pregnant and Addicted to Heroin
Expectant Mother Is One of Many Addicts in America's Heartland
Sunday, September 28, 2008
The grass is greener on the other side syndrome
I've definitely got a case of the-grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side' syndrome when it comes to city living. I find myself constantly measuring Seattle against the brilliance of Chicago. When am I going to accept that they are totally different cities? I'm still in denial because to admit it would probably make me more bummed than I already feel about this city right now. I'm trying really hard to give it a chance here, I really am.Maybe it's the actual PEOPLE who live here that make this city not as juicy to live in as Chicago. I have heard of the Seattle freeze, but didn't really notice it as much until I started my job at the end of the summer. I have observed a standoffish quality to them, one of seriousness and lack of warmth and joviality. It's weird. And it's not because they are responding to my attitude because I will smile and say a friendly Hello or try to strike up conversations to get to know others better. They are closed off. It makes me uncomfortable.
I have heard you have to meet people here who aren't from Seattle. Funny enough, even the people I have met NOT from here are the same way. It's like if you live here long enough, you turn into a Seattle pod or something. If that's the way it is here, I have no desire to partake in that transformation of my personality. I'm not sure what to do. I know I haven't been here that long. In the overall scheme of things, the settling down process from moving out of state can take awhile. What I wonder is, what is the acceptable amount of time to give a new place a chance to grow on you and if it doesn't, reconsider where you want to live? I can't STAND moving (I need to be in one spot for awhile), so realize I am very serious when I say this.
Yesterday I pushed myself to check out the area of shops and restaurants in my neighborhood about a mile away from my apartment, something I've procrastinated doing because I would rather check it out with someone than by myself. It was a beautiful day and motivated to find a birthday present for my mom, out I went. I walked around for about 30 minutes and nothing really stood out to me. Sure, there were a few restaurants that smelled good and I'll be curious to try out sometime. But all I could do was get nostalgic about my old Chicago neighborhood. I never got sick of wandering around Lakeview on the weekends. Borders for my books. Bamee for my Thai food cravings. The indie movie theater in the Century Mall on Clark. Starbucks for coffee and some downtime to read, study, or hang out. The farmer's market on Broadway. So much more diversity and liveliness.
When I was about to walk into a thrift store yesterday, a woman on the other side of the door rudely told me they were closed. I apologized and walked away.
Luckily, I had a better experience around the corner at the eclectic Chocolate Cafe. That place was cool and had character. An alternative looking employee (aka lots of tats and piercings), dark colored walls (mauve-ish color I think), canvas paintings on the back wall (probably done by locals, I'm guessing), and a few tables in the same area where you could drink your beverage and enjoy the variety of delectable chocolate options.
Cliche as it sounds, it is SOOO true that you sometimes don't realize how much you love a person or place until it's gone. Hindsight. Ain't it a bitch?!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Saying what you mean and meaning what you say
How many people do you know say what they mean and mean what they say? More the exception than the rule? What happened to respect and genuine honesty? Not brutal honesty, but a caring honesty. I realize it's not always easy, but life isn't always easy. Does that mean you take the short cut to instant gratification at the expense of hurting someone else? I just don't understand.People say "I didn't want to hurt you" or "I really care about you" but what do their actions say? Especially when one is putting oneself out there, the least the other person can do is reciprocate. It's not easy for either one to do, but one would think the scary uncomfortable risk of being vulnerable with each other would be worth the potential fulfilling 'reward' in the end: feeling truly known, seen, understood.....even if things don't turn out the way one or the other individual had hoped.
There have been so many times I have put myself out there with my feelings for someone and it's backfired. Of course it hurt, but in the end I know I expressed how I felt and what the guy did with the knowledge was up to him. The ball was in his court. That's not even what upsets me the most. I just read a blog my friend (KC) wrote about lies. It really struck a chord with me. I felt compelled to comment, which I did. I felt further compelled to then write about it here.
I was telling her how when I revealed my feelings to someone I cared about for SOOO long, he told me his job was his focus, blah blah blah. Didn't even tell me how he felt, whether negative or positive. That was his response, with mixed signals no less. Nice, huh? To this day, I still don't understand what's going on in that brain of his and whether I mean anything to him. We stay in touch superficially (I don't even know why. Maybe I'm not ready to let him go out of my life completely yet?), but there's no substance or intimacy there like I felt there was in the beginning when I met him.
I also found out recently that someone in my life has been lying to me and I just don't even know what to say to this person right now. I wish I could be unbiased and supportive, try to see from an objective standpoint. It's not possible, at least not now. A part of me is also feeling selfish about how this impacts my own relationship with him, like it's going to regress to the way it was years ago: distant and emotionally vacant. The lack of hope and optimism within me about this deeply saddens me.
It may sound sexist to say, but this is my blog and this is how I feel lately so I'm going to say what I mean and mean what I say.....
It seems to me that men have a harder time being emotionally genuine than women. I honestly believe that. I think there is truth to this gender stereotype. I can think of more examples of men being dishonest with their feelings (and giving mixed signals) than women. I'm proven right more than I'm proven wrong when it comes to men.
Will this honesty dynamic ever change? Is there hope for a world of emotionally mature men?
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Scott and long distance friendships
Scott and I became friends while working at Borders in Chicago. I'm not sure exactly what year it was, maybe 2003 or 2004. I think I was working alot of 3-11pm shifts performing my usual bookseller duties on the second floor. This typically included hanging out at the art/photography section info desk alot. Scott worked the overnight shifts, collecting magazines and books that were left behind or getting things out on the floor from the stock room. His shift would begin as mine was nearing the end. There was always a surplus of magazines and other various items left behind in the section where I worked, which meant Scott wasn't far behind.We would talk and laugh about nothing in particular, but never really had time to have lengthy conversations. Once in awhile we would take a lunch break together at the Italian deli across the street in the Hancock building. Over time, we would even hang out every few months to grab lunch, see a movie, or have a few drinks (more so after we no longer worked together). This was the extent of our friendship though, a relationship based on spontaneity and less on any mutual long term loyalty. Not to say this was a bad thing. I think we just didn't have any expectations of each other, in a good way.
I hung out with Scott a few times shortly before I was to move from Chicago to Seattle. I remember the second to last time I hung out with him being the most enjoyable time I've spent with him....probably ever. It was a Saturday morning towards the end of January. I had run some errands after work and Scott called to see if I wanted to hang out with him, in his usual spur of the moment way I like so much. I didn't happen to have any plans for the day and headed downtown. We had lunch at the aforementioned Italian deli/restaurant and talked about his contemplations to move out of state. In turn, I shared with him some recent confusion I was having about a few guys in my life. We ended up spending the whole day doing a bunch of spontaneous things after that. We saw "Cloverfield" at the movie theater, had a few drinks at a dive bar in the financial district downtown, and walked around the downtown area (including stumbling into an old, ornate chapel for a few minutes to listen to a man playing a harpsichord). All the while we talked....about everything. It wasn't until then that I realized how much I would miss Scott and certain things about the fabulous city of Chicago, a spontaneous day with a spontaneous friend for instance.
What I have always liked about my friendship with Scott is that he has interesting ideas, insights, and perspectives on just about anything...not to mention a great sense of humor. A great conversationalist is hard to find and I have always valued this quality in him, especially regarding topics other friends of mine might shy away from.
A few months after I moved to Seattle, Scott moved to North Carolina. He took a giant leap and was excited about the prospect. I, too, was excited for him.
Since his move, Scott and I have talked on the phone quite a bit the last 2 or 3 months. He had alot on his mind and I would listen. He was new to North Carolina and I was new to Seattle. Maybe talking to a familiar friend gave both of us some comfort, changing the dynamic of our friendship. Or maybe talking about things that have been difficult for us added a different element of intimacy to the friendship that wasn't there before. Maybe both. Whatever the case may be, I like the new dynamic that has evolved.
Scott has decided to move back to Chicago because things didn't turn out the way he thought they would, for reasons I won't go into here because I don't want to reveal his personal life in my blog. While talking on the phone with him tonight, I found myself asking him to promise me something. It was as if the words flew out of my mouth before I had a chance to realize why I would ask such a thing, why it suddenly became important to me. I wanted him to promise me that we will still talk on the phone (like we have been) even after he moves back to Chicago, to promise that he won't fall off the planet and become a stranger/someone I never hear from.
We started talking about his idiosyncrasies (that he's absentminded and wants me to 'pester' him if he forgets/doesn't call for awhile) and mine (that I don't like pestering my friends or coming across as a needy friend). This led to a conversation about friendships, particularly long distance friendships. He brought up an interesting and thought provoking question that I sometimes wonder myself. He told me that he has never really been the kind of person to maintain long distance friendships and that he isn't quite sure why he has kept a friendship with me now that we are no longer in the same city. He said this with an honest and sincere curiosity, something he wants to genuinely reflect on in his own time.
I remember learning in one of my undergrad psychology or sociology classes that there are different factors people consider when it comes to friendship and how long they last. One of the top predictors of a long term friendship is proximity, living in the same geographical area. So when I think about Scott's question of 'What am I getting out of a long distance friendship with (whomever)?".....I have to say I wonder why I continue some of my relationships as well.
I love my friends, but they live all over the United States. Realistically, how often will I be able to see them? I can go for years without seeing them, though not because I want it that way. It's just too expensive to travel and see all my friends. Some friends are best in person, some on the phone, some via email correspondence. Yet, all my friends (except Tracy because she lives...yup: near me again) live far away.
So what is the motivation behind long distance friendships?
Friendships are more than about going out for drinks on the weekend or engaging in superficial small talk to stay 'updated' on each other's lives. Near or far, friendships are about connection. Revealing the intimate details of oneself. Inside jokes and funny stories. Sharing in each other's joys, as well as one's pain. Philosophical ideas, goals, values, passions. Experiences and memories, shared or separate. People who love us for who we are, despite our idiosyncrasies. They see our potential and inspire us to reach it. The list goes on and on.
So when I think about why I continue to have long distance friendships without knowing the 'final' outcome or rationale, I just have to think of a friend like Scott and that's all the 'answer' I need.
A place to call my home
It's official: I signed the lease to my new apartment this afternoon! I'm beyond excited to have a place to call my own again, as well as the freedom to do whatever I want living alone again. I went to IKEA with my mom and my Aunt Su (who was in town visiting us for the weekend) after I signed the lease. I saw SO much stuff I wanted to get, but I also had a budget to consider and decided it would be best not to get overzealous with domestic purchases. That and the fact that I'm not good when it comes to putting things together. If it requires minimal steps and minimal tools, I can do it....but if there's any kind of map with numbers on the put-it-together process....forget it, I'll be lost!
I bought lots of little things: a toothbrush holder, a small garbage can, scissors, silverware, a plastic tray for the silverware, a small lamp and energy efficient light bulbs, a wide glass bowl to put some stones and/or tealight candles in, tealight candle holders, small pot set of 3, and a combination set of plastic containers (for food). I didn't think I bought that much and yet I still managed to spend about $60! Shopping for domestic items sure does add up! I'm having fun with this new home project though. I'm going to buy some curtains for my two windows once I'm able to move in and get measurements.
My goal is to eventually find 2 comfortable bar stools for the bar counter area near the kitchen, as well as a bookcase, a tv/dvd table (or whatever it's called), and a nice comfortable chair or small couch.
My aunt gave me a great idea as far as pictures for the walls too, something I probably wouldn't have considered. I was telling her and my mom how I don't think I want to keep my framed artsy type pictures. I have had the 2 Renaissance framed paintings and the 1 framed Paris photo since I was in college. I don't feel like it fits who I am now, like it's not an accurate reflection of "Katie." Su suggested I take some photographs of mine, blow them up and frame them on my walls. What a great idea!!!
I'm already thinking about which photos I might want to enlarge and frame. One definitely has to be of Chicago, I know that much. Hopefully I will have the original image sizes of whatever pictures I decide I want to enlarge, which reminds me readers.....are there any particular photos of mine that you really like and think would like great on the walls of my new home? Put them below in the 'suggestion box' (aka, leave me a comment here). :)
I bought lots of little things: a toothbrush holder, a small garbage can, scissors, silverware, a plastic tray for the silverware, a small lamp and energy efficient light bulbs, a wide glass bowl to put some stones and/or tealight candles in, tealight candle holders, small pot set of 3, and a combination set of plastic containers (for food). I didn't think I bought that much and yet I still managed to spend about $60! Shopping for domestic items sure does add up! I'm having fun with this new home project though. I'm going to buy some curtains for my two windows once I'm able to move in and get measurements.
My goal is to eventually find 2 comfortable bar stools for the bar counter area near the kitchen, as well as a bookcase, a tv/dvd table (or whatever it's called), and a nice comfortable chair or small couch.
My aunt gave me a great idea as far as pictures for the walls too, something I probably wouldn't have considered. I was telling her and my mom how I don't think I want to keep my framed artsy type pictures. I have had the 2 Renaissance framed paintings and the 1 framed Paris photo since I was in college. I don't feel like it fits who I am now, like it's not an accurate reflection of "Katie." Su suggested I take some photographs of mine, blow them up and frame them on my walls. What a great idea!!!
I'm already thinking about which photos I might want to enlarge and frame. One definitely has to be of Chicago, I know that much. Hopefully I will have the original image sizes of whatever pictures I decide I want to enlarge, which reminds me readers.....are there any particular photos of mine that you really like and think would like great on the walls of my new home? Put them below in the 'suggestion box' (aka, leave me a comment here). :)
Monday, August 25, 2008
Michelle Obama speech
I watched the DNC speeches tonight. I don't think I've ever been so engrossed in any kind of politically driven speech before! I can confidently say I am a new fan of Michelle Obama. Wow, what an inspiring speech. Absolutely brilliant. How incredibly refreshing to see a strong, positive hard-working American woman speaking not only with intelligence, but with compassion and encouraging words for people of ALL walks of life. This is something that has been missing from the US system of politics, one that tends to be driven by fear tactics and segregating people by class, race, religion, economic status, ad nauseum infinitum. Cutting the bureaucratic red tape of personal agenda to one of truth and connection takes quite a courageous leap forward and Michelle Obama has done it!Michelle Obama also got a hearty cheer from me when she gave a positive voice to the importance of addressing mental health in this country, a very near and dear passion close to my heart. I also have newfound respect for her community service endeavors. This woman from Southside Chicago makes me proud to be an American....a strong, hard-working American. Finally, someone who understands the determination and hard work that can come of pursuing one's dream the REAL way....no shortcuts or monetary handouts. She is a role model so many of us can learn from and only hope to emulate through her humanitarian actions and caring service to others.
Ted Kennedy said it best as well when he endorsed Barack Obama tonight by adding that the 'gridlock' needs to be demolished, making way for hope and change.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Rain's serenity
It has been raining off and on since late this afternoon. I might not feel the same way if I were outside out and about, but being at home while it's raining feels like being enveloped by maternal safety and comfort. I'm in a virtual rainforest. One night last week I enjoyed listening to the steady rainfall so much that I even went to bed without my earplugs (which I normally put in every night to block out external noise) because I wanted to fall asleep to the sound of rainfall. It was wonderful. It's weird too because I don't feel this way every time it rains. Maybe it's just those times when I'm feeling anxious that I appreciate it. In a weird way, it's like nature giving me a hug or something. I know, funny analogy.Today, for instance....I was feeling overwhelmed thinking of all my responsibilities and demands others have of me, while also wondering how I can take care of myself in the midst of it all. I wasn't stressed out per se, just in deep thought. After completing things that needed to get done today, it began to drizzle. I decided to watch more of my Season One DVD of "Felicity," which I started last night. I was feeling nostalgic as I watched it, happy and sad at the same time. I remembered how much I loved watching the show in college (reminding me of my days at SWT, I cooking dinner and Nicole baking her famous chocolate chip cookies when we had our cooking/baking hangout nights and lots of other memories). I still feel myself identifying with the main character Felicity Porter, even watching the show many years later. As I watched four episodes, the rain poured down harder. I became more relaxed, quiet, and calm.
A few friends called me today and I felt a little bad for not calling them back to talk, but I just didn't feel like talking at all. Sometimes enjoying the silence takes precedence. Partaking in conversation deadens the power of rain's serenity somehow when in such a state of mind. I must admit, I also got a bit sleepy as I finished the last 10 pages of a book I was reading due to the effects of listening to the rain. I had a brief IM conversation with two friends on Facebook, the extent of any 'conversation' I had today. I then made some Indian food for dinner and poured myself a glass of Yellowtail Shiraz wine (one of my favorites that I haven't had in awhile) and here I sit writing this now.
I will be curious to see how I will feel about Seattle rainfall once fall (when it rains most frequently here) arrives. Last week one of my coworkers was saying that in October, she finds the rain makes her 'hibernate' at first and then after awhile she just gets used to it. I think I was the same way during Chicago's coldest times of winter, though I don't think I can say I ever really 'got used to it.' Hibernating has its perks though, I suppose. We'll see.
For now, the rain is mostly my serenity.
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