In a city this big.....

How funny. When I look at this photo that I took a few years ago, I am almost convinced of the impossibility of randomly running into someone from my past. Living in a city of an estimated 3 million inhabitants, it can be quite easy to become complacent with a relatively "safe" anonymity. If there's someone you don't ever want to see again, it's not as hard as say living in a town of 300 or 3,000 where it's very likely to run into said person at the corner store getting a gallon of milk. Or so you'd think! Life sure does bring with it a warped sense of humor. My early Wednesday morning mishaps on the bus today are one such awkward, albeit oddly amusing example of such irony I cannot resist sharing.....

First, a little travel back in time to add flavor to today's amusement.....

When I first moved to Chicago, I dated this guy (Andrew) who was studying advertising with Miami Ad School and doing his internship at the prominent Leo Burnett advertising agency here in downtown Chicago. At the time, I guess I was as intrigued with what Andrew was doing as he seemed to be with himself. When I was dating him, I frequently tried to be something that I was not to appease him....at worst, I was a people pleaser with obviously little to no confidence in the relationship department. It was a very conflictual off and on relationship. He lived in Chicago for a few months, moved to a few different cities for school (Minneapolis, Miami,etc), and eventually moved back to Chicago permanently in 2004. We went out once shortly after his move in 2004, but then it became apparent that we couldn't do the whole friends thing and we cut ties completely.

There was one strange incident that occurred a year later when I first started my current job in 2005. I think my cell phone accidentally called his number when my phone was in my purse on the way to work (I didn't have his number still in my cell phone, but it must have still been in the memory somewhere) because he called minutes later. I was so confused at the time and it was only in hindsight that I realized the fluke situation. Funny enough though, he called me later that day and left a message. As I listened to his message, I began to notice he thought I was someone else....one of his coworkers or something, because he said something like "Ok, I'll see you at work later this week...." I had text messaged him back saying "This isn't your coworker Katie....this is the Katie you once dated." A few minutes pass and my phone beeps with a received message apologizing for the mistake. Dumb ass. Had he honestly had a long term memory lapse of that period of time in his life where he was dating me to not remember me? Alrightie then! Fine with me. Andrew then disappears from the radar of Katie's world completely since that time. This brings us to today: Wednesday, August 29, 2007 at approximately 5:24 am.

Katie is listening to music and sitting content as can be on the back of the #156 bus, the first bus of two buses she must take to get to work in the morning. About five minutes into the bus (a few stops past the Sheridan/Diversey stop), who does Katie see get on at the front of the bus: Andrew.

"Please God, no. Tell me it isn't so, that my sleepy eyes are deceiving me!" I immediately think it is ridiculously hilarious in a way, as every once in awhile I will think how funny it is that not ONCE have I run into him the past 3 years anywhere in the city. I have seen guys who at first glance I thought was him, but after a double take realized it was just an odd occurence of momentary mistaken identity, breathing a sigh of relief. No sighs (of relief anyway) today.

I think "Ok, he's going to sit down and won't even know that I am there/that I saw him. No....stop walking, oh shit, he's walking all the way to the back of the bus where I'm at. Crap. What do I say?" He almost glances my way as I almost consider doing the cordial thing (smile and say "Hi")....and then he completely fails to acknowledge me, sitting one seat in front of me on the left side (I was on the right side...obviously). I thought, this is REALLY awkward...and the longest #156 bus ride ever, even though it probably only lasted a total of 5-8 minutes.

In the 5-8 minutes of seemingly awkward eternity, I distracted myself by making the most of it with a "everything happens for a reason" mode of rationale. Again, I recognized the hilarity of it all, especially when I remembered the blog I wrote yesterday about dating revealing more about oneself than the other person....and finding a friend first in a dating partner. What was first an experience of anxiety, I found now to be replaced with relief of lessons learned. I KNOW I wouldn't have been happy with him in the long-term. Hell, I wasn't happy with him in the short term! And he was never even a good friend, slightly mediocre at best.

I pull the cord that signals to the bus driver "stop requested" for the next bus stop, eager to get off the bus and away from Andrew. I stand at the back door....as the bus keeps going. Great, the bus driver isn't stopping. It just keeps getting better. Sigh. I have to quickly walk up the aisle all the way to the front and alert the driver that I had requested to get off one block back. He apologizes. If he only knew that today of all days it would have been nice to get off at the stop without any interruptions. Oh well.

I step off the bus and as I stand there waiting for it to pass by me so that I can start sprinting the 2 minutes back to where I needed to be to make my second transfer bus....I look through the window and see Andrew looking RIGHT at me as the bus slowly drives past me. I knew it! I knew the jackass saw me.

Well, que sera sera insignificant ex-boyfriend. What a morning commute.....

Dating reveals more about you than the other person

As my dedicated blog readers may already know, I recently posted a blog about the trials and tribulations of the dating scene. I had vented about my own frustrations, more so about pre-dating confusion regarding the likelihood of compatibility between a new guy and myself. My friend Erika, however, pulled a Dr. Phil and basically told me I needed to get over some things and forge ahead anyway. At first, I was taken aback, but the more I thought about what she said...I realized she was right. I wasn't being a "dateless diva." I was being a wimp! It is always easier to pick out the flaws in others than to recognize and work on changing the things we don't like about ourselves, especially when it comes to dating!

Even though I didn't feel a strong connection in the handful of emails I exchanged with Chicago Reader's "Ariesguy2," I decided to follow the well-intentioned suggestion of my friend and give it a try...at least meet in person. Saturday night he called and we talked briefly to finalize plans: lunch at 1:00 at the Thai restaurant, Duck Walk....a short walk for me further down my street (his idea). I had been there once before, so I knew the food would be tasty. It was the other "unknown"-ness of it all that had my anxiety level gradually rising as it inched closer to 1:00. I'm definitely an open-minded person, but mixed with a subtle form of social anxiety....a challenging combination. I think I learned more about myself from this date than I ever learned about "Ariesguy."

Walking out of my apartment building with relative confidence, I found myself getting increasingly nervous, having shortness of breath, a slightly queasy stomach, and an overriding desire to turn around and go back home. The only thing that stopped me was not wanting to be an asshole and stand the guy up. I wondered, what is my problem? Why am I getting so nervous over a guy that I honestly didn't even think I'd feel a spark for? And is it normal to be that nervous or maybe I have some kind of social anxiety? I'm still not sure, as I have gone on other dates and not been nearly as nervous. Perhaps it is because I had not been on an actual date in a very long time....more a matter of feeling "rusty" at it, so to speak.

As I approached the restaurant, I spot a tall bald guy dressed in all black standing in front, looking around for someone. Even though I wasn't close enough to know for sure, I had a feeling it was him. I walked towards him with eye contact and a smile. I remember immediately thinking he seemed really tall to me...but I'm also very short! We walked into Duck Walk, a restaurant with a smaller, more intimate setting conducive to talking and relaxation. As Ariesguy talked, I looked at him and thought about how different he appeared than I perceived him to be from his online profile. I couldn't decide whether it was a good thing or not. It wasn't anything negative per se. I suppose in a good way, he challenged a stereotype I had unconsciously created of him based on what I knew from his online persona. In our emails, he seemed to me more of a sporty guy, having shared that he goes jogging four times a week, likes watching the Bears game on the weekends, and is currently playing with a local baseball league. I also knew he had a few piercings and at least one tattoo. I pictured him in my mind as being a cross between a jock and an alternative kind of rebel.

Sitting across from me, I could see two medium sized silver hoop earrings at the corner of his left eyebrow and a long black flame-like looking tattoo extending from underneath his sleeve onto the lower part of his left arm. He had an average build....neither fat, nor buff. Ariesguy talked about various things in a very mild-mannered way. It boggled my mind in a good way, as I had not personally observed this interesting combination in a guy before....or at least in my dating experiences. It made me realize that as much as I'd like to think I don't go into something with absolutely no preconceptions....I am prone to stereotyping just as much as the next person, sadly. Refreshingly, he didn't fit a "type." Unfortunately, I felt no spark. As open-minded as I was about him, I didn't feel us "clicking." At first I kept pushing myself to hang in there, that maybe I was being a jerk or superficial....but it wasn't even about physical attributes. It was about conversation...or more lack of that "clicking" feeling in conversation. No, there were no awkward pauses or "insert foot in mouth" moments (thankfully!), but if our date had been taped by a reality show....people probably would have been yawning at the both of us.

Being total opposites, we didn't have much in common to talk about. The only part of the conversation that was relatively interesting was when I was telling him my days of interacting with celebrities while working at Borders in the past and he shared his own story of seeing Billy Corgan at the bar Hogs N' Hunnies. Or how another time someone got him an autograph from the Guns N' Roses guitarist Slash.

When it came time to wrap up the lunch date and pay for the meal, I reached for my purse and asked how much I owed. "Don't worry about it, I got it," he said. I thanked him, but secretly felt bad he was paying for my meal when in my heart I knew at that point that I didn't want to go out with him again. Normally, I wouldn't feel that bad, but he was such a nice person. A few minutes later, we walked outside to part ways. He told me he had fun and that we'd have to do it again. I gave him a hug, said "yeah", and then parted with a "goodbye." How do you tell someone to their face, "No, sorry, I don't want to go out again...there's just no spark." I couldn't bring myself to do it.

As I walked home from my "Ariesguy" lunch, I realized maybe I DO have a type....not so much physically as in other ways: someone I find intellectually stimulating, fun/funny, similar interests and values as myself, creatively inclined, and/or someone who is in a "helping" profession like myself. Now I realize there isn't a person who will fit the bill on all of these kinds of qualities I like/prefer, but even just a few to go on will keep me intrigued enough beyond a first date. It's not just romantically either....the more I analyzed it over the past two days, I observed all the people I truly "click" with in my life have one or more of such qualities. One cannot get to a romantic level without first feeling a remote platonic kinship.

So maybe I have it all wrong....maybe dating is more about meeting up and finding a friend in that person whom you "click" with so that you CAN take it to that next level. Pretty simple concept, yet somehow it has been lost on me until now. Note to self: Keep it simple. Remember this on future dates Kate! With that said, I tentatively have a date with another guy from the Reader this next Saturday night. It will be interesting to see if I "click" with this one, as I have gotten that vibe from our online communication thus far.

If nothing else, I continue to learn more about myself with each experience and blog material to match.......

"Connecting" with each other in a postmodern world

Living in an age of rapidly expanding technology has become part and parcel of daily mainstream living. While it certainly has its benefits, one particular aspect of technology has me wondering lately if it is helping or hindering relationships we have with each other in the postmodern world.

Communication. Simple enough concept, right? Or is it? What is "normal" communication these days and does "normal" necessarily carry a positive connotation? It may not be "negative" either, but at the most...that of indifference. This past week I have thought about all the various relationships I have with people....family, friends, acquaintances, and potential dating possibilities. I thought about how many people I actually see in person or talk to on the phone on a regular or even semi-regular basis. The percentage was pretty low when I thought about it....sad? Most people in my life I communicate with via email and/or text messages. Ironic, considering I communicate with others in a more interpersonal way in my line of work....and the fact that some of the people I don't talk to on the phone are more easily accessible, not living far from me in physical distance. I have noticed that I, like many people I have observed lately, have become an internet and text message junkie.

Over the course of the past six to nine months, I have been sending and receiving a constant influx of text messages. Prior to last year, I don't think I really knew much about texting, or just didn't utilize that feature on my cell phone. I've been into writing (letters and emails) for years now, most notably since my undergrad college years, so that isn't a new behavior for me. What I don't understand is, how has text messaging and emails become more of a cultural norm these days than talking to someone on the phone? I realize there are some pros to text messages....if you need to ask someone a question, but don't want to bother them, it's more convenient to write a quick message or tell someone "hello". Even say something funny to make the other person laugh. But how much is TOO much? Must we text for EVERYTHING?The other day I was riding on the train and as I looked around, there were at least two or three people in front of me who appeared to be typing out text messages.

Does this form of communication help or hinder us in relationships? Is it a complement to an already meaningful relationship or has it become an unhealthy supplement of "false" connection between two people? Is having a conversation becoming a lost art to "chatting"? Why don't we talk to each other anymore? Even a majority of businesses have robotic voice options when you're trying to reach a human being through "customer service." I don't know about you, but how many times have you gone through the myriad of "press 1 for this, 2 for that" only to say to yourself aloud, "Can I talk to a person?!" Funnier still is that in an age where even children and teenagers tend to have their own cell phone, how many people across the board of different age groups are having conversations on the phone? Again, most times when I am sitting on the bus or train and have the "pleasure" of listening to someone gab, gab, gab on their cell phone, it sounds more like noise pollution to the passengers around the person than something worthwhile.

Yes, I suppose text messages and emails are "better than nothing," a little extra something to maintain a certain degree of "connecting" with each other, however, maybe we need to set our standards higher and put more effort into our communication patterns for the sake of a particular relationship. Just because we live in a society of morphing cultural norms doesn't mean we need to totally morph ourselves with it.

Without seeing and hearing each other through the visual and auditory senses, we are missing out on those wonderful things you can't get in an email or a text message: hearing the person laugh and/or their mood , their nonverbal behavior, their VOICE that makes them unique from a lifeless text message or impersonal email. This is especially true in the dating scene. In this particular situation, it is easy for two people to get mixed signals from one another. It can be confusing enough to figure out "does this person really like me, especially to continue dating me?" without adding in the element of texting to the mix. There has been more than one occasion in which I have wondered if texting was an easy way to not cut off contact with someone completely. You could still be "nice" and yet remain distant enough to be "safe" by sending a text here or there. Type out a sentence and hit 'send.' A one minute emotional and mental "investment" or a cop-out?

We only get as much back as we are putting in to a relationship. Sure, we might have lots of quantity, but what about quality? Are we sacrificing connection for instant gratification? There are very few people I know who don't seem to fall prey to this kind of phenomenon, my close friend Rajiv being one of them. I think one of the many things I love so much about him is that he prefers to talk and or see me rather than email and text. I hardly ever send him an email or a text and I can't remember the last time I received any from him either! Speaking as someone who has admitted to a certain degree of internet/text addiction, I'm not sure where to go from here, but I think the first step is awareness. I can only hope to take my friend's lead and become less dependent on the computer age to build and sustain the relationships in my life.

Summer

The warmth of sunshine beating down on my bare skin, sometimes leaving a glistening sweat that makes my overall appearance aglow with vibrant youthfulness. Slathering on Coconut Lime Verbena body lotion, only to smell like a margarita....and crave the real thing...with salt! Sipping iced green tea and sangrias with apple and orange slices. Biting into a sweet, dark red strawberry or juicy blueberries.

Watching sunrises with hues of pink and purple every day on my commute to work. Wandering around in flip flops and sunglasses. Exercising and relaxing by the lake. Visitors from out of town and visiting with Chicago friends who have more time on their hands than usual. Taking in the smells, sights and tastes of what the Farmer's Market has to offer....most notably, .50 cent CORN ON THE COB!! Bust out the butter and salt; I just can't get enough! Macaroni salad, potato salad, black bean and corn salad. Salad, salad, salad! These are a few of my Chicago summer favorites.

They don't call it "SENSE"-sual for nothing!

We have all heard that men tend to be visual creatures, especially when it comes to sex. What about women, what kind of creatures are we? While I certainly can't speak for all women, I can speak for myself.

I won't lie. Sure, I can appreciate a good looking man when I see one, however, what turns me on more are the other elements which I cannot see....now THAT is erotic. Call it a titillating thrill of the semi-unknown, but there's nothing I find more "hot" than a slightly suggestive comment....not raunchy, but subtle enough to drive my imagination wild. After all, isn't sexual enjoyment 90% mental? I totally believe that. Perhaps the reason so many people suffer from sexual problems/disorders is simply because they are not fully in the moment, engaging the senses.

You know what I'm talking about. When someone is looking to turn on and/or get turned on in the physical absence of the other, what is one of the first questions he or she asks of the other: "So, what are you wearing...?" While a cliche and cheesy question, it is the exchange between the two that can make the difference between a "fizzle" or a "SIZZLE" experience. You say too much and it becomes contrived, mechanical.....but with a vague simplicity of flirtation and creativity, well, I think you get my drift. Add an already great mental, emotional, and playful existing connection you have with the person, and....even better.

You don't need sex toys or over-the-top outfits from Frederick's of Hollywood to be satisfied, though I'm sure lovers may find it to be a fun little bonus to add to the pleasurable repertoire!

What you DO need and want, however, is totally free and at your disposal....if you pay attention! These are the things we all need to pay attention to: what you see (and DON'T see!), what you hear, and what you can smell, taste and touch. In short, being seduced by your senses.
What was that you asked, dear reader? "What am I wearing?" Well, I think I'll leave that to your imagination.....

Nerdy nostalgia and old junk

Seeing as I have been in a silly, playful mood the past few days (Yeah, don't ask...I have no idea why, I just embrace it! hahaha!), I thought I would post something silly and fun in a nerdy, nostalgic kind of way.

I don't tend to hang on to alot of material things (aka: JUNK!) throughout my life. I like to keep it simple, and after all, I live in a studio apartment, which forces me to throw even more stuff away if I don't want to feel claustrophobic! Strangely though, I'm one of those people who feels a definite parallel between how much "stuff" one accumulates in their home with how organized and simplified (or not) one's life will or can be.

Those that are hoarders (or to be more PC: "pack rats"...wait, IS that more PC?!?! Oh well.) may experience a sense of loss if forced to pitch that Target receipt or last year's beatup tshirt in the garbage...but not me. Ask my mother. She used to "scold" me numerous times over the years for getting rid of something, usually some article of clothing that was given to me as a gift, but nevertheless looked awful or not "me." I would tell her it wasn't personal, I just didn't need it! I suppose I should have done the humanitarian-like thing and at least donated the shit I didn't want, but what can I say: I'm just lazy. The garbage can is alot closer than the nearest thrift store. Even now, when my mom contemplates buying me something, she just has to throw in the whole "Well, you'll probably just throw it away...." in for good measure. I'm thinking, "Geez Mom, I'm not THAT bad!" Haha.

In fact, what is so quirky about me is what I do save. While I may not have clothing that dates back further than a year or even keep books I know for a fact I won't pick up off my bookshelf again except maybe to blow off dust while doing a little apartment cleaning.....I still have my old journals and spiral notebooks I wrote in since I was a teen up until present time. I also have all the pictures of old maps my high school US History teacher Mr. Swartz made us draw as one of the assigned class requirements. I think I kept them as proof that I do have an inkling of drawing abilities, even if it is just of world maps! I also have tons of papers I wrote in undergrad, as well as some from my undergrad days.....which brings me to something I thought would be fun to include in today's blog. Hehehe.

I think it was about a month ago. I happened to be wandering around my apartment, looking through old stuff during a humdrum day when I didn't have much else to do...something I tend to do now and then. I came across a paper I wrote for my English composition class freshman year at University of South Florida: September 1996, nearly eleven years ago!

I find it funny, considering my recent plunge into the blogger writing world. Once you see how horribly I wrote back then, maybe you'll begin to understand why it took me so long to get where I am today, more confident and happy with the content and quality of what I write. Even more ironic when I think about the handful of people who have told me I am "inspiring" and/or seem to have motivated them to creatively pursue their OWN writing endeavors.

But maybe it's not about being perfect, but being authentic, "warts and all" as my Mom would say! Sure, we are apt to idolize famous figures in media, history,etc....but in the end, isn't it the "Everyman/woman" that we can most identify with, someone who has had a common thought, feeling, or experience like the rest of us, even if not completely the same? With that said, read my paper (word for unedited word) and weep....with laughter. :)

(****Foreword: This paper is based on an actual embarrassing experience I had when I was the new nerdy, unfashionable kid in town my 5th grade year....though not quite so dramatic as the "picture I paint" in the paper! I'll spare you my English teacher's remarks, though amazingly, I still ended up with a B. I think my good vocabulary was the only thing that impressed him and saved my grade!)

"Children's behavior, in the 90's, is becoming more cruel. For example, name calling and excluding new quiet students from the crowd has become a fear for many in such a situation. Children mainly learn from television that certain behavior is accepted. In addition, some parents are not stressing the right values and moral standards in regards to human interaction. Children should be prepared before their essential school years arrive to treat other classmates with respect and kindness. It seems they are going from bad to worse as the years progress. I can recall a day that I received cruelty firsthand. It occurred when I moved to Great Bridge, Virginia. I was eleven years old and felt completely alone."

"I was an ordinary child, or so I thought. Later, I found out how vicious children could be. At the time, I lived in a close-knit town in Derry, New Hampshire. Everyone was friendly and helpful to one another. All the neighborhood children would get together after school or on the weekends to play, usually a few rounds of baseball or something similar. There was no fear about being singled out or condemned. There were my friends, no doubt about it. I was a fairly happy child. My grades in school were excellent and my social life was great too. Although my parents were divorced, I lived with my mother and brother, and loved them dearly. My mother dated a nice man I liked, Oliver, and they soon married in July. Unfortunately, his new job as a merchant marine required all of us to move to a new area, Great Bridge, Virginia."

"I struggled to adjust to all the overwhelming changes in my life and found it difficult to interact with the neighborhood children and even those in my class. They were different from my friendly crowd in Derry. They seemed to ahve an attitude and did not want me intruding on their social life. In addition, they thought I was strange. My clothes were odd, my northern accent was funny, and I was too school-oriented for them. I was definitely not a pocket protector nerd, but I still did not measure up to their upper class expectations. It became a major problem for me as my fifth grade year progressed. Besides being friendless in an unfamiliar new town, my grades were slipping. I was suffering emotionally and could not focus fully on my studies. So, of course, that also became a factor in my growing depression. My self esteem became very low, as I felt insecure more and more each day. Months later, after I had finally settled down and decided not to let it bother me, the whole situation came back to haunt me."

"On a wintery morning in late November, I slowly stepped onto the bus, for my usual daily route to school. As I proceeded to walk down the aisle full of quiet faces staring at me, the bus driver, Jim, accelerated on the gas pedal. I had a full load of books in my bag that carried much weight on my back. Unaware of Jim, I eagerly searched for a vacant seat. As he started to drive off, the bus jolted full speed ahead, and I was taken off guard. I fell backwards in the aisle! Already embarrassed by my fall, I tried to get up and realized I was stuck! I was not a child of wide bodily measurements. My heavy, oversized backpack was the source of my misfortune. The narrow aisle and my bag made it impossible to get up. Anxiety rose, as seconds turned to minutes, and no one offered a helping hand. Children from the front, extending to the very back, exchanged ridiculing remarks and looks of disbelief. Oblivious to my scenario, Jim kept driving nonchalantly. Since I had no friends to assist me, I laid there, in the middle of the aisle, for what seemed like an eternity. In my mind, I searched for a reasonable explanation. The silence was unbearable and the truth hurt more. My fellow classmates wanted nothing to do with me, including helping me up. Was I a monster? After all, I thought I was a human being. These people were cold-blooded, with no empathy for me at all. I should have resented them, but I pitied them instead. They had much to learn about human compassion. "

"As Jim pulled into the school parking lot, people in the first few rows gathered their belongings and exited the bus. Children behind me waited impatiently, expecting me to jump right up. Somehow, I managed to get my troublesome bag off my back and rose, totally mortified, to depart from the terrible incident."

"Reflecting back, I am glad it happened in some ways. I realize now, as a young adult, what it taught me about compassion and adapting to changes in life. Moreover, I can laugh at myself and view things from a different perspective. Life can be a little less complicated when you have a good sense of humor. Over the years, I have adapted to people's lifestyles and my friends, today, accept me the way I am."

One final word: "I can laugh at myself and view things from a different perspective. Life can be a little less complicated when you have a good sense of humor." Hmmm, some things never change. Haha.

Am I a dateless diva?

I've never really been one for dating. Some people love it, thrive on it even. I'm not one of those people. In fact, I pretty much have the opposite reaction. I loathe the "game" feel of it all and can go for long stretches of time without even going on a date with a guy, especially the older I get. Yes, I do get lonely sometimes not being a part of the whole dating world, but I'm too lazy to put forth the superficial effort required to find the good ones in the endless pool of bachelor men. Maybe this is why I tend to have innocent crushes on my male friends by default. Having a guy in my life (even if it IS just a platonic friend) whom I can flirt, laugh, and have intelligent conversation with is better than going on insignificant dates with guys I'll likely never see again....

Does this make me an asshole or at the very least a pessimist in the dating realm? I don't know, maybe. But when you do the same thing over and over again, never getting any different results, you want to give up after awhile. A few months ago, someone suggested I try out a free local online dating website (Chicago Reader Matches). I thought, "eh, why not...what have I got to lose?" I posted a few pictures with an 'about me' section (which I even had a guy friend help me edit and "approve" for better marketing, er dating, success). I thought for sure this time it would be different....a transformation of my crappy luck from the past to more winning dating prospects. Or so I thought.

I received a few emails from a couple oddballs here and there. I read them, chuckled with amusement for a few minutes. And hit 'delete.' Then I got an email from another guy who was physically attractive and seemingly somewhat intelligent. He caught my eye and I gave it a chance. We emailed back and forth about four times last month. The emails weren't awful, but they were nothing to write home about either. I didn't feel like I had anything in common with this guy, especially when it came to his seemingly sporty fanaticism. I could only picture how our first date might go: he droning on and on about sports and how much he likes to work out.... me zoning out and trying to think of alternative topics of more bookish conversation (which may make him zone out). I wondered, why did he even email me? We're so different. I know they say opposites attract, but for me personally, 80% of the time I'm drawn to guys who are more similar to me than different. By the fourth email, I started to think more like a guy. He gave me his phone number and I didn't email him again after that. I also didn't hear from him either, until I got an email from him out of the blue yesterday. I haven't responded yet and not sure if I will. Better to cut it off in the beginning than drag things out just to be nice at first and having to explain giving mixed signals later on. Too much effort. Am I an asshole?

Three or four weeks go by and I had forgotten about my dating profile. I even thought about taking it down, another hassle off my to-do list since nothing exciting was happening. Then, last week I get an email from a new guy who seems to have slightly more in common with me. We have exchanged 5 emails thus far. I think 4 or 5 emails has become the set precedent (or determining factor if you will) whether I lose or gain interest. Sadly, I think I'm waning towards the losing interest again. Now, some of you may think "Katie, you're being too picky, blah blah blah." But no folks, not really. Being very UN-picky is what has landed me in trouble or heartbroken, pining away, ad infinitum MANY a times with the male species over the years. So if "picky" takes on a negative connotation, I'm willing to embrace that for alot less heartache and more time and effort in favor of other long lasting pursuits...pursuits with more positive odds for happiness and success. Does this make me an asshole to the dating world? A dateless diva???

Interestingly, my friend Sara wrote a blog on a similar experience recently where she struggled with "being honest vs. being nice" in regard to her attempt to tell a guy she went on a date with that she just wasn't feeling the spark, so to speak. I applauded her on her bold move! Why should a woman keep playing "nice" if it's not going to get anywhere? If a woman asserts herself in an honest way, she risks being pegged a "bitch," but if a guy does it....well, he's just being a guy. Gotta love the double standards...not for me, thank you.

I had a funny conversation with my friend Amber the other day about dating. We were lamenting about how we just don't have the patience to tolerate certain characteristics from potential dating suitors...like immaturity, codependent guys who latch right on to you after just a few dates (her recent experience), and boring guys who can't hold down an intelligent conversation. "We're just too good for these guys Katie." I told Amber I'm not sure we're "better" per se....we just haven't found "that" guy whom we "click" with that can offer just as much to us as we have to offer "Him." Sigh.

She joked how she's going to start her own website called "WhoWantsToBeMyBaby'sDaddy?.com." Hahaha. I think I'll hold off on that idea for awhile. Notice I said awhile. Ahhh, never a dull moment in life.

The movies in my mind

I awoke this morning to realize that I spent the whole night (or what felt like it) dreaming so much that I almost felt like I didn't really sleep at all. Haha. I do feel well rested though, so no worries.

I wonder if I ever look like this sleeping woman in the picture here. I have always loved this painting, though I sometimes ruin the beauty I observe in life by thinking too logically, like my thought "Man, her neck is really gonna hurt if she sleeps in that position for 7 or 8 hours straight!" But she looks good...that's all that matters, right? Haha.

I've been having alot of "transitional" dreams lately. And while I don't believe every dream I have in life has some existential symbolism for my life, it can be a telling reflection of what's going on in my life at the moment. Last night was no exception, even though what I can recall is only snippets of details. In the first dream, I was at my friend Bridget's house. I remember in the dream thinking that she looked alot older to me, like she had aged quite a bit. I even wondered if it was really my friend, maybe an older sibling of hers that I had mistaken for Bridget. She had apparently just had a baby and tragically, her husband had died shortly thereafter from some medical surgery gone horribly awry. I felt so sad for her, thinking her baby would grow up not knowing his father and how difficult it would be for her to be a single, widowed mother. That's all I remember of that part of the dream.

The next segment I hardly remember, but it involved me being in some dim lit office space area (I guess where I worked in the dream) and I think my boss was either leaving/going away or maybe I was the one who was leaving for whatever reason. He went into his office to sign my last paycheck.

Then the final part of my dreaming involved me being in a room with a group of five or six people, one of which was one of my clients (in real life) and the other my dad. All I remember is that everyone kept hugging me, sometimes repeatedly, like they were wishing me a "farewell," both excited for me and sad to see me go. My dad was the most upset and actually cried a little. I thought it was strange that he was crying because it was as if he was sad that he wasn't going to see me much, when all I could think of was that he never really saw me much to begin with, as we never really lived close to one another. I think my "mission" was to run in a marathon. No, I'm not kidding....that's the journey/goal I had set out to complete, though not sure why. That's all I remember. Then I woke up.

Wow, what an exhausting movie in my head...haha.

Challenging racial tendencies

(Note: The name of the following client has been changed to protect confidentiality)

I just had a very interesting session with one of my clients, the kind of session where I am reminded just how fascinating my job can be at times. I get the opportunity to talk about things with people that in most work situations would be frowned upon, possibly even deemed "politically incorrect." Yes, that's right....I'm talking about race. After my session was over, as I reflected on the discussion I had with one of my favorite clients, I was reminded of another favorite of mine....the phenomenal movie "Crash." A movie that aims to expose the shadowy, dark side of many different races, it also sets the stage for viewers to take a look at their own idiosyncratic prejudices....including taking a look at negative stereotypes perpetuated by one's own race. I won't go into the plot of the movie because if you haven't seen it, you must see for yourself.

What I would like to articulate, however, is the topic of discussion I had with my client. For the sake of making this easier to convey, let's just call my client "Jane." I have been seeing her for two years now. I don't think she even needs a counselor, as she has been clean for as long as I have known her!! A 44 year old strong minded and independent black woman, "Jane" is perhaps my most put together, intelligent, honest, witty, insightful, and articulate clients out of the about 50 clients on my caseload. Sometimes we will talk about what's going on with her work situation, other times it will be about her family relationships, her husband,etc. Whatever it may be, sessions with her always flow very easily and to be honest, I look forward to sessions with her! My coworker Carol and I joke off and on that if all our clients were like "Jane," our jobs would be so easy. Hahaha. Anyway, just giving a little background info on her and our rapport to set the scenario for what I'm about to describe as our discussion.

Somehow, and I'm trying to remember how this came up (this tends to happen...I usually can't remember how topics are broached...just happens with my magical therapist-like powers to get others to open up I guess...hahaha!) she brought up things she doesn't like about her race. She mentioned how she had once watched comedian Bernie Mac's standup show in which he talked about stereotypes of African Americans, which Jane listed aloud as she spoke to me: "that they can be lazy, will show up for a job at whatever time they want to, and that they don't seem to take care each other as a race." She told me that she tended to agree with him, based on experiences she has had. I questioned my client on the generalizations, challenging her perspective on her experiences...."Maybe it was just a particular person's personality, not really a race issue" I suggested. But Jane gave me a handful of examples to back up her belief that her race is "divided." She tells me one time when she got on the bus, a black male driver was very friendly and overly talkative with a white well-to-do Gucci bag carrying female in front of her. When Jane gave a cheery "Hello" to the driver too, however, according to my client, his demeanor changed to that of abrupt unfriendliness. Another example involved Jane going to McDonald's to get something to eat. She described being in line amongst 2 or 3 other people that were white and/or hispanic. Jane went to order with the young, black woman behind the counter, who Jane adamantally says saw Jane and overlooked her to take the order for the person after her. It also extends to Jane's experiences at work, where she has observed her black coworkers clocking in/returning from their break whenever they want to.

I looked quizzically at Jane, as it was clear to me that surely it wasn't anything she could have possibly been doing in all these scenarios (if you recall how I described her earlier: sociable, kind, intelligent,etc) to repeatedly keep experiencing such things. I asked her "If this is true, as you believe it to be (in your experience), why do you think your race doesn't want to help each other/take care of one another....a fear of success?" Jane wasn't entirely sure, though she did wonder whether children who grow up in ghettos really know much better/different if it's all they have experienced in their reality. Her bringing up the topic brought me to ask her something I had been pondering when I stumbled across a segment on "60 Minutes" Sunday night. It's rare that I will talk about things I have seen, read, watched,etc with my clients, but if I feel it is relevant to a session I am having with a client, once in awhile, I will add my own thoughts and observations on something. I told Jane that she brought up an interesting theory, though I wondered what she would think about this, as it seemed opposite of what I saw on the "60 Minutes" segment. Anderson Cooper was interviewing a few different people regarding why it is that hip hop/rap artists will not cooperate with police in capturing someone the artist may know have killed another musician in the industry, such as the late TuPac or Notorious BIG. He had asked one rapper (I can't remember the guy's name) that if he knew a serial killer was living next door to him, would he then be inclined to talk with police? The rapper said he would probably move, but would not go so far as to be a "snitch." I couldn't quite wrap my head around it and curiously asked Jane what she thought about that. Jane seemed to believe the hip hop/rap artists are just "covering their own ass" and that while they put on a tough front, are in actuality afraid someone will come after/kill them if they were to tell police, especially since they are more vulnerable targets as celebrities/performing concerts in public forums,etc. I thought it made sense, when Jane framed it that way. While race issues are definitely prevalent in society, when it comes to fears, vulnerabilities, and protecting oneself, we are all simply of the human race in that department.

After Jane left my office nearly an hour later, I thought about how refreshingly open and honest it was talking with her. I'm not sure whether her feelings and experiences on relations with her race will become more positive for her in the future, but what I do appreciate is the fact that a middle aged black woman and a young white woman can have such an open-minded discussion in a society where the media likes to sensationalize prejudice BETWEEN races. Maybe what makes us different on the outside has a powerful way of reminding us how much we are actually alike on the inside. It just goes to show that when you think you really know something, you really know nothing...and that is the greatest lesson to be learned.

Kid foods: friend or foe?

I shamefully must admit, I don't think anything I really loved to eat during my childhood was actually good for me. But isn't that how most kids feel about their favorite foods? How many kids profess a love for nectarines and all things green? Ironically enough, some of my favorite foods were some of the most cholesterol and sodium induced foods, like chicken nuggets (or "chicken chunks" as I believe I called them) from McDonalds, hot dogs, Slim Jims ("Step into a Slim Jim!!") and mouth watering crispy slices of bacon. Yes, I was an overweight child. Wonder why (note sarcasm)?! I'm surprised I didn't die from a heart attack by the time I reached the teen years with all the animal fat consumption! Maybe this is the real, unconscious reason I changed my eating habits from unhealthy carnivore to pseudo herbivore by my early twenties.....

Then there were of course the salty and sugary favorites....potato chips, Nutty Bars, peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches (which will FOREVER remind me of being a kid!!), potato sticks (though I remember being annoyed that they were hard to grab a hold of, the pesky sticks!), my grandmother's delicious cheese toast she'd make with the Cracker Barrel cheese and of course, her gravy.

It makes me wonder if I ever ate anything remotely healthy back then, wow! hahaha. Actually, yes, I did, but I only remember it being certain instances at dinnertime. There would usually be some kind of vegetable on the plate that I avoided like the Bubonic Plague, usually something like onions, green peppers, mushrooms, brussel sprouts. YUCK. Bleh.

I remember my dad and his wife would make me sit there long after everyone else had finished dinner, left the table,etc until I finished eating the dreaded side dish. I spent many a restless evenings at that table. It's bad enough when you have to eat something you hate, but then when it's cold on top of it all, putting a forkful in your mouth just triggers a gag reflex. I thought I was pretty sneaky too. At times, I was so disgusted, tired, or frustrated that I would put a big forkful of whatever into my mouth, only to run into the bathroom, pretend to be going pee or something, and in reality my effective strategy involved spitting out the food into a big piece of toilet paper. Then: get rid of the evidence.

Sounds like I had an eating disorder. I suppose I did: a disorder for avoiding healthy food. I can't remember if I ever got found out or not, though with my luck, I probably did because I also remember times where I didn't end up finishing the food. My dad would make me put the damn plate in the refrigerator, only to eat it....yup, first thing in the morning for breakfast. What an evil torture. I cannot remember much else. I think I blocked it out of my memory from the sheer trauma of the healthy food punishment incidents.....

Maybe on some level it worked though, considering I like fruits and veggies now. I still like my potato chips though. And even though it's been years since I have eaten bacon, I freakishly still love the smell of it. What can I say? Old habits die hard....

Gone postal

I haven't had much luck with postal services lately. First, if you may recall, it was my package from a friend that went permanently MIA last month. Then, yesterday I had some issues when I went to mail a package to a friend of mine. I think I was already a little grumpy because I had walked the 15 minute distance from my apartment to the UPS place in the rain. But, I brushed it off, excited that I had finally given up my lazy and procrastinating ways to get the creative care package mailed out. Or so that was my intention....

I had needed a box to mail the stuff and perused all the different sizes they had. The smallest one was almost $5. I was told they would have to pack it themselves since I had something that was technically "fragile," though not to my standards. I was like, "ok, that's cool." I was told it would be an extra $5 to pack it, not including the almost $10 to mail it out. I look at him with dismay. This man expects me to pay $20 for a small package?! For real? I tell him that's simply too expensive/ridiculous and that I would just bring in my own box. I leave, go across the plaza to Ulta 3, where they kindly give me a box they are about to throw away. Go back to UPS store and have aforementioned postal worker tell me that it is against their policy to have customers pack their own boxes there. WHAT? I thought postal offices exist to help you with your mailing needs and now there are picky conditions/criteria one must meet to mail a package? You'd think I had some mini explosives or something. I just shook my head at the absurdity and left. I boxed it up myself once I got home. I decided I'm not even going to go back to that particular place, but will go to an actual post office later this afternoon.

Why must people make things more difficult than they have to be? I don't understand it, other than to guess it must have alot to do with milking an extra dollar (or $20 in my case) for corporate America....

Refreshingly weird things...and jumping into rebellion

I'm having a refreshingly bizarre week of randomness with people, not to mention the thoughts and feelings they have been triggering within me. Scary at first, but then fascinatingly wonderful. If you are wondering why I posted this photo of people in the semi light/semi darkness jumping in the air, it is because it is symbolic of how I'm feeling about life at the moment. It has been overwhelming me with a seesaw of emotions, but overall it's a great thing!

Despite my feelings of confusion and stress about relationships and making big life decisions, I've had unexpected conversations with friends and family lately that have given me the kind of support and direction I didn't even realize on some level I needed. Most surprisingly, I have also been connecting and reconnecting with others that I don't usually even see or even talk to on the phone. For example, yesterday I talked to my friend Jennie for the first time in like 8 years! She called me all the way from Germany (where she lives) on my work phone and we had a great hour long conversation and it was almost as if we were back in college hanging out and talking about things like old times. It didn't feel like it had been 8 years at all. Love it.

Over this past weekend, my friend Tracy told me about this job possibility she thought I would be an ideal candidate for in Seattle, Washington.....at a school where my friend's mother works. They are in need of a counselor. I spent a majority of my morning in between doing work yesterday working on completing the online application, so as not to miss this potential opportunity that has come my way. While I still have some questions to inquire about regarding the job, work atmosphere,etc, I am confident that things will work out the way they are supposed to, even if it means I do or do not end up getting/taking the job.

Last night I called my dad to tell him about it, as I had not talked to him lately and wanted to touch base. I was surprised that right away he seemed to be discouraging me, questioning whether it would be a safe environment for me because it was an alternative school. I tried to be patient and see things from his perspective....I'm thinking ok, he's a cop AND I'm his daughter, so that makes him doubly protective of looking out for me. He immediately asked me if the school makes alot of calls to the police for violent disputes. I told him I didn't know, but that I would ask. He told me he didn't want to burst my bubble, but that if the school is anything like the alternative schools he gets calls from/has to respond to in Florida (where he lives), it is something I need to consider: the environment I would be working in. I agree that he has valid concerns/points, but at the same time, I became more annoyed the more I thought about it. I told him that I don't think my friend and her mother would have suggested this job idea to me if they thought it would be a hazardous working environment. He actually agreed with me that he had not thought of that/"true." I also told him it would probably be no more "dangerous" than my current job working with drug addicts! Still, my dad's cop instincts took over and he became analytical with his advice on looking up info on criminal activity,etc.

While I plan on taking his advice to an extent, when I got off the phone with him he gave me a valuable realization, a reminder of how I make my own decisions and the kind of person I am at the core....with a balance of heart and mind. My dad and I tend to be opposite in that way. I think that's why he drove me crazy and we didn't get along much when I was younger. His decisions seem to be ruled more by rational thinking and analysis, whereas I follow my intuitive feelings on big life decisions. I realized last night I have always been somewhat of a rebel at heart. I'm not a rebel in the stereotypical ways. When I was a kid, I never got tattoos or snuck out of the house, got in trouble with the law, those sorts of things....but I would stubbornly question authority of my parents, talk back to them, not listen....I wanted to do what I wanted to do!

I remember when I was a kid my mom telling me I would make a great lawyer because I sure did know how to argue and loved to have the last word. Haha. Of course, I have toned it down or at least modified it in more productive ways over the years, but it is STILL there, a part of me. Last night was no exception. What's funny is that my dad helped me realize that while I may have initial fears about the unknown, that hidden courageously stubborn part of me is right there behind it. After a little bit of doubt last night, I then started to think, "Eh, fuck it. I'm going to do it ANYWAY....just as I always do what I feel is right for me at the time." See, big decisions I have made (like moving to Chicago, for example) hasn't steered me wrong. In fact, it has created quite the opposite...opportunity to grow and discover myself and what I have to offer the world. I didn't know a soul when I moved to Chicago. I didn't know the city at all, how to get anywhere. I didn't know if I'd feel safe or vulnerable. I didn't know if I would succeed in graduate school. This overall feeling of "not knowing" proved more freeing and life changing than what I DID know....that staying stagnant is boring and lifeless. And what IS security anyway? It's all just a silly illusion we tell ourselves to keep from having anxiety attacks about life's uncertainties.

My dad mentioned how it may be a "tough" job (the job at the school). I thought alot about this last night and this morning on my way to work. What HASN'T been tough and challenging for me in this field of helping people? Helping people IS tough, but it is a worthwhile and rewarding pursuit. This is what I'm passionate about....being the positive change I wish to see in the world (a la Gandhi style).

When I was in graduate school I had an internship working at a residential facility with children who had been abused and/or had severe behavioral problems. There was at least one occasion (if not more) where one of the kids I worked with could have hit me with a metal pole or other weapon-like looking objects in one of the rooms where my supervisor and I would do the weekly groups. They could have if they wanted to, but I didn't and still don't live in fear of others...no matter how traumatic their past. I find the good in even seemingly "bad" people..not in a nieve way, but in an honest and real way. It doesn't mean I don't probe into the raw and nitty gritty emotions...in fact getting to the good stuff usually involves delving into the messy negative thoughts and emotions first. But I think having this mindset has kept "danger" away from me for that very reason. I see past what they did or things that have happened to them...I look into the humanity, the commonalities of life that make us all human. I am not afraid of someone who is showing me their anger, their fears, their dark side, their nostalgic feelings, their desire to want and be more, excitement over small accomplishments, or simply even a sense of hopelessness. I am not afraid, because I see these same things in myself....from my past, to my present, to my future. And I see all these things across the board working with my clients at my current job too....something else that was unknown to me when I first started, yet I think now how much I have grown personally and professionally.

Just this morning I had this phenomenal session with this 55 year old Vietnam vet. He looks like a biker dude, but is totally soft spoken with a very philosophical and intelligent articulateness about him. Somehow, and I love when this happens at times, he got to talking about experiences he had in Saudi Arabia the two years he was over there in his early 20's. He only had to talk to me for a 15 minute session, and yet he was in my office reminiscing about fascinating people and experiences from his past for 45 minutes! I was in such awe. I thought, this is what makes my job worth it: listening and being a part of the stories of other's lives. When I handed him his appointment card for next month's session, he asked if we were done and I said "Yup." Before he turned around to walk out the door of my office, he looked at me with a shy smile and a softly sincere "Thank you."

I don't think I'm meant to work a "normal" job. I think I would be bored and lifeless. Maybe "tough" jobs are what I know best and thrive at...a good fit for my inner rebellious streak. Interestingly, as I was walking the remainder of my morning commute this morning, I was listening to my radio/headphones. A song had just ended and the commentator started reading some passage, I think from "The Art of Happiness." I thought it was weird that anyone would be quoting something so spiritual on a radio station, especially considering it wasn't a religious station. I thought it was cool too, like a little dose of inspiration for my day. What really made me chuckle though was his last line, or personal comment maybe: "Follow Your Bliss." I took that as a sign that I'm exactly where I need to be and will continue to be....

Why? And what to do?

Ever have one of those days where you're just going about your day/life, and then you discover something and all of a sudden, in that moment you are flooded with feelings out of nowhere that you can't quite figure out where they came from, or just the 'why' of it all?

It began with this strange dream I vaguely remember having last night. I only remember bits and pieces, but all I can remember is that there was this girl and I trying to get into a car with a baby. It was night time and we were in an abandoned parking lot. A group of guys approached us and basically kidnapped us, mainly because they wanted the baby. I could never figure out why they wanted the baby. All I know is I kept thinking of ways I could trick them or distract their attention to help my friend get her newborn baby back and somehow escape. I had this overriding feeling that I needed to get home, that I was missing out on something by these guys keeping us hostage there. I think we ended up getting the baby and getting out of there unscathed eventually, but still a bizarre dream. I think it's largely due to my friend Carla telling me a sad story about her friend's baby who died when I talked to her on the phone yesterday. That, and I'm going through alot of confusion and changes in my life right now, trying to figure myself out.

Then I also got to thinking this morning about why it is that I'm bothered by finding out a guy I somewhat had liked now seems to have a girlfriend. I can usually think about things differently if I allow myself to analyze a situation from a rational perspective, as a way to make me feel better or what not....but it's not really working in this particular instance. I think a part of me feels indirectly rejected, like there's always another girl better than me that a guy wants. (Obviously, this isn't the first time I have felt this way). I don't know. I'm not depressed or anything, just perplexed as to why I feel so sensitively about it. Maybe I'm just lonely and ready for a positive change in general in my life. I'm working on it.

Courage and the Self

Yesterday and today I have been thinking alot about the idea of courage. Interestingly, it has been quite the pondering theme for me the past 24 hours.....

I spent a majority of my late afternoon yesterday reading Osho's philosophy on the principle in his book "Courage: the Joy of Living Dangerously." How many of us step outside our comfort zones and/or the "masks" we put on to the world? Do we reveal who we truly are or bask in the shadows of fear? Osho makes a distinction between courage and complete fearlessness. Fear is a part of life; everyone will experience it throughout life. Courage, however, is acknowledging the fear that is present and being oneself despite the fear. It can be scary going into the unknown because that is when we feel most vulnerable, but it is also an authentic and powerful experience.

I just finished the book earlier this morning on my way to work. It is full of so many insightful and motivating things, a few of which spoke to me most....as it relates to my own fears lately with "exposing" myself through my writing and knowing people are reading my various "thoughts" on here...the "real" me.

A few insightful quotes:
"To allow somebody to reach your center is risky, dangerous, because you never know what that person will do to you. And once all your secrets are known, once your hiddeness has become unhidden, once you are exposed completely, what that other person will do you never know. The fear is there. That's why we never open."

"Just be what you are and don't care a bit about the world. Then you will feel a tremendous relaxation and a deep peace within your heart. This is what Zen people call your 'original face'---relaxed, without tensions, without pretensions, without hypocrisies, without the so-called disciplines of how you should behave."

I LOVE THAT LAST QUOTE! This is exactly how I feel about writing blogs....which is why I was so afraid to do it at first.....worrying what other people think. Even though it has been scary, I continue to keep going with a sense of courage because the more I write, the more I feel an odd sense of freedom to be myself, despite the opinions or potential judgment of others. I think, who cares!! It could be a great thing, for people I know (and don't know) to know the real me, masks removed! I'm definitely not fearless, don't get me wrong.....but I'm not truly living if I don't take risks. I would rather choose freedom over a "safe", dull, predictable existence. What is there to look forward to without a little "unknown" to give us that thrill and touch of anxiety in the best possible sense?!

Another phenomenal quote: ""What matters is your choice: your choice to learn, your choice to experience, your choice to go into the dark. Slowly slowly your courage will start functioning. And sharpness of intelligence is not something separate from courage, it is almost one organic whole."

Be yourself. How refreshing! How easy to say and how hard to do, but meaningful when one CAN manage to do so. After having read up on the subject, it was interesting to then be channel surfing last night and stumble upon the same theme!

I came upon this show on PBS that instantly caught my attention. I was trying to figure out what was going on, as I happened to be catching the show at the last 10 minutes or so of whatever it was. There were a bunch of teenagers of different backgrounds (Israeli, Palestinian, Indian,etc) at this camp in the wilderness, I think in the US somewhere. The whole point of this camp was the hope that they would become more open-minded to see each other as equals/a common humanity.....people who otherwise view each other as "the enemy" when they are back on their "home turf." It was very cool to see/hear that it actually did happen, even though their whole lives they had been trained by their particular society to do just the opposite. It was called "Seeds of Peace." Then, right after that show was another segment of the "America at a Crossroads" series I had seen before. The first one I watched last month was about soldiers writing about their thoughts, feelings, and experiences regarding war.

This one was called "Faith Without Fear." An Islamic woman, Irshad Manji, challenges the ideas of Fundamentalist extremism in the thought provoking program: pbs.org/weta/crossroads/about/show_faith_without_fear.html. Talk about inspiring! I thought to myself: wow, if this woman can be so courageous and speak out against injustices despite facing frequent death threats against her for doing so....what excuse do I possibly have for not working towards living more courageously myself?!?!

Being yourself and not worrying what other people think....true freedom. Not only that, this also came up in two really awesome sessions I had with clients today. The first session I had wasn't necessarily about courage, but in a weird way, I felt like I had some insightful feedback/perspective to give him today because of some of the positive things I read in my book....like communicating how you feel about something in an honest and real way. And the cool thing is that the guy seemed to be open to what I was saying, like he really stopped, listened, and was processing it. With my clients that rarely happens during a session, so that made me feel good. Then, the second guy I saw today was talking about shame he feels in regard to his drug use. I talked with him about courage and not worrying what other people think, especially since they are going to think what they want to think anyway. He also really listened to what I had to say, like he might consider following the little "exercise" I gave him to work on overcoming shame in favor of "exposing" himself with courage.

All in all, I've gained much insight from the ideas on courage presented to me to think about from not only the book, but seeing it in action....within myself and others.

"Broken"

Do you ever feel like a movie was made specifically for you to see? A movie where when you watch the main character, you feel like you are looking at your own reflection in the mirror? It's uncanny. I experienced this firsthand on Sunday afternoon. I was just wandering around my neighborhood, strolling along with nothing in particular in mind, as I am wont to do at times. I was walking near the movie theater in the area and thought I'd see what was playing. As I approached the counter with the movie listings, this older man immediately came up to me and said "Are you looking for a good movie to watch? I just watched 'Broken English' and it was excellent." I told him I keep hearing about that movie off and on and was wondering if it would be good. I looked at the time. The next showing was in 20 minutes....so I bought the ticket. Or tried to anyway. This girl I used to work with at the bookstore now works at the movie theater ticket counter. I wasn't sure if she remembered me, but was friendly towards her nonetheless. She filled out a piece of paper, which she pushed towards me. She said I wouldn't have to pay for the movie if I signed my name on the sheet of paper she filled out. She just gave me a free movie. Sweet!

I really had no idea what the movie would be about, other than I knew Parker Posey was in it and that she has romantic troubles. As the movie progressed, I was astounded by the similarities I saw between myself and her character, Nora. In a nutshell, she seems to have bad luck with guys....something I immediately identified with. Whether she finds out the guy she just had a seemingly good date with ends up having a girlfriend or another guy who isn't yet over his ex-girlfriend (who even apologetically tells her "You're so nice..."....yup, I've been there too!), I could relate. Interestingly though, she starts to question why she's attracting guys who are "unavailable" in one form or another. I liked this movie because it helped give me insight into my own love life in a refreshingly, unconventional and non-cliched kind of way.

Contradictions

Yesterday I was thinking about how sometimes I am a contradiction to myself. Or maybe it's just one of my odd idiosyncrasies I cannot understand or explain. When it comes to my job, I am confident and ready to tackle whatever situation arises. I also have a knack for effectively making complete strangers feel comfortable talking with me,etc. So, why is it when it comes to my personal life, there are times where I feel a little self-conscious and am not as outgoing as I am in most circumstances?

I thought maybe I was just this way when it comes to guys/dating, but this also happens with family or friends I have not talked to or seen in awhile. Alot of times, I could be writing/emailing with someone and feel comfortable in that way, but if I have not talked to them on the phone or seen them in person in a long time, it's almost like "starting over" again....if that makes sense. I guess I'm so used to listening all the time, I'm not used to talking about myself. It's not that I don't have anything to say (obviously, by all the writing I do!), I just don't know what to say unless the person I'm talking to asks specific questions.This is more so with people I have to "warm up to" as I mentioned. Maybe it's due to the fact that I have so many long distance relationships. I have more relationships with people far away than actually live in the same city as myself.

On the other hand, there are other people who I can go for months or years without talking to, and when I talk to them again, I'm perfectly comfortable. I think that's mainly my college friends though, which is only a handful of my female friends. What's funny is that I know this about myself and am aware when I'm feeling a bit of social anxiety in such situations, but it is difficult to mentally remove myself from that feeling. Still trying to figure out how to overcome this unconscious form of nervousness. I guess I can live with it; I just don't want other people to misinterpret my temporary nervousness/self-consciousness as something on their part. Is this a strange quirk of mine?