Sudanese and the What

As I like to do from time to time, I asked what someone I know (my brother Alex, a poli sci/international relations grad student) was currently reading. More often than not, I am familiar with various nonfiction and fiction books, so I usually know what's currently interesting and worth giving a read. But I also love to ask my family and friends what they are reading because sometimes they suggest something that was slightly under my bookworm radar. I'm glad I decided to check out the book my brother is almost finished reading: "What is the What" by Dave Eggers.

While I love biographies (especially memoir style), this is not a book I likely would have made a decision to read upon first inspection of the description. It seemed slightly intimidating to start reading and I wondered if it would be over my head as far as culturally and politically speaking. I was wrong. If anything, I'm learning alot about Sudan's struggles, its government, the SPLA (Sudan People's Liberation Army), and most significantly, the courage and resilience of its people.

So far I am in awe of the book, 143 pages in. I relaxed on my bed for a good hour or two last night, unable to peel my eyes away from the intriguing and tragic story. It chronicles the trials and tribulations of Valentino Achak Deng, a Sudanese man (pictured here above: found off http://www.valentinoachekdeng.org/ website) who must flee his ravaged, war torn country at a young age in search of freedom and a better way of life.

I couldn't help think of how lucky I am to never have to experience alot of the things this man has gone through throughout the course of his life.

I thought about what it must be like to hear guns being fired right outside your home, with the possiblity that rebels could set your house on fire.

I thought about what it must be like to be afraid to trek across the country in an attempt to flee danger...not knowing what dangers could come across your path along the way.

I thought about what it must feel like to watch your friends and family look death in the face as extremists snatched away lives in mere seconds in front of one's very eyes.

I thought about how scary it must be to run through fields of grass, with the very real possibility of being shot and captured by rebels...or worse, being captured and eaten alive by a lion!

I also wondered what it must be like to have to think quickly on your feet: when to run, where and when to hide, who to trust along the migrating journey of "Lost Boys of Sudan."

And I will never really have to know what it feels like. I. am. grateful.

Stories like Achak Deng's make my life problems and melancholy moods seem quite laughable.....and all the more inspiring toward understanding the human condition from a more hopeful perspective, that of compassion and resilience.

Time to get back to my reading of this book.....

Trust

Have you ever thought about why or how we 'choose' the individuals we trust with our deepest secrets and vulnerabilities? Are some people more trusting than others? If so, what sets the trusting person apart from the non-trusting person (or people) in one's life? Does trusting others begin with trusting and relying on oneself first and foremost, so that no matter who we trust, it doesn't even matter what the other person does with the trusted information?

Are we more inclined to tell our deep and/or dark secrets to total strangers, close relationships, or a random mixture of the two?

Of course, it's alot easier to trust a total stranger when you know you've shared something personal with someone you will never see again or when it's more of a one-sided relationship, hence there is nothing at stake...nothing to lose.

I remember this movie I saw where this guy is internally wrestling with his feelings for this woman (she is unaware of his feelings) and whether he should take a flight out to see her or take his scheduled work related business flight. Instead of revealing his feelings for this woman to HER, he sits in the airport talking to an employee who works there telling her about his dilemna. It was a very intense moment and potential turning point for him, but the stranger was only concerned with whether this guy was going to get on his scheduled flight or not. The man opened up to a stranger, but did he really have anything to lose? No, not really. Maybe this kind of trust is really an 'empty trust,' one of illusion?

We can, however, take many risks in the sake of trust. If you trust the wrong person, conflict could erupt. Other people could get hurt. The one putting themselves out there could get "screwed over" by the 'trusted' individual. One's character, integrity, and reputation can be on the line. Sometimes trust backfires and sometimes it doesn't. Nothing is a 100 % guarantee and yet we still reach out to others. I think it's amazing and intriguing. I just wonder: Why trust who we trust?

I am the kind of person that people must feel very comfortable to be themselves with because I find people tell me things they have not told anyone (or very few) else....or so they tell me. Sometimes I even get "T.M.I." ("too much information") when people feel OVERLY comfortable telling me something I really didn't need to know, something even possibly gross/revolting (on the job). I may laugh or shudder to myself for a moment, but at the same time never cease to be intrigued as to what drives a person to 'let it all out' so to speak.

While I can understand professional trust that can be part and parcel of being a therapist, I am alot more perplexed as to how trust pertains to my personal life. I love psychology. :)

I wonder if I have some kind of 'natural' quality because of my profession as a counselor or if it's something else entirely. Not too long ago, one of my clients told me she hasn't felt comfortable talking to counselors in the past...but she has clearly opened up to me. I asked her how I am different. "I don't know...something about your face...and you just seem...nice."

Are we more likely to trust someone quickly (or at all, for that matter) when he/she is genuine and nonjudgmental? That is the only thing I can think of regarding how others seems to easily trust me. Not that I can't be trusted. The concept of trust just fascinates and sometimes boggles my mind. I take it as the highest compliment when someone shares their secrets with me. Sometimes I get mad because I don't always know what to make of what someone has told me and wonder if I'd be better off not knowing.....but then that turns into a feeling of meaningfulness, knowing I have discovered another aspect of the person. More often than not, it serves to deepen the relationship I have with the person.

On the subject of trust, I also realize ALL of us are essentially vulnerable. And in a weird way, it gives me comfort to trust others gradually a little more as they trust/have trusted me.

This is interesting because while I tend to take the role of 'trusted,' I haven't always trusted others easily. I have been betrayed by supposed 'trust' in my life over the years, but I have also had people I could trust with my life. As I think about people I trust now, I wonder what it is about them that makes them so trustworthy in my eyes.

Here's the qualities that come to mind:

sense of love/caring

a certain degree of social and/or emotional intelligence

sense of humor about life overall

being supportive

accepting me (and themselves?) as is

So perhaps it IS all about being genuine with other people....

I am reminded of something mentioned in one of my favorite books, "Man's Search for Meaning." Viktor Frankl talked about his experiences in a concentration camp. When stripped of what comprises the 'identity' of self, when there's nothing else left, what remains? Connecting on the most basic commonality of all: human being to human being. :)

Adventures of a birthday girl in Michigan

Friday, December 14, 2007: Departed Chicago around 5:30am with my pals Rajiv and Eddie to head for St. Ignace in Michigan's upper peninsula. :)


"Why Michigan?" you ask. Why NOT Michigan?! My friend Rajiv had been to St. Ignace, Mackinac (or Mackinaw) Island, and the Tahquamenon Falls in Michigan and had recommended we go there when we were brainstorming about what to do for both our bdays (his bday is December 9th) while in Argo Tea one lazy afternoon. Thus, an idea was born. :)


The drive didn't seem as long as I thought it would be...probably because I had great company, some fun music, and the occasional laughter producing Mad Libs to pass the time along the way. We arrived in St. Ignace around 2 or 2:30 pm Michigan time (1 hr. ahead of Chicago time). Got settled in with all our crap at the Driftwood Motel there in St. Ignace and headed straight to the motel's restaurant for a late lunch and cocktail. Took a walk down the street after that to check out a few shops, including one that had a Native American Museum in the back. There was a nice and interesting lady working there that we chatted with about the museum's heritage, along with tidbits about the St. Ignace natives and its culture.


We were quickly noticing just how desolate it is at the "mainland" of St. Ignace, especially in the winter according to the locals. Hardly any cars drove by and on the rare occasion a human being was spotted in our vicinity as we walked down the street, the individual passing by would smile and say "Hi, how are you?" beneath their winter clothing. Apparently, most people don't live there in the winter. The remaining locals we talked with would tell us that most people only live there in the winter and live somewhere else in the summer (Florida seemed to be the consensus!).


Talking with the locals was one of the most entertaining thing on the trip. It was funny too because every time we would sit down at a bar or restaurant, the very first question asked of us was "Where are you from?" It was either that obvious we weren't from around there or it's so small of a town that they knew we were out of towners because they didn't recognize our faces!


The lady at the museum that Friday shared with us how she has a penchant for getting stoned while fly fishing on the lake, while our jolly bartender Dustin at the local casino shared that he doesn't leave his house in the winter much unless he goes shopping. (He also told us two funny jokes, one about a nun and another about a guy at at nursing home with Parkinson's, but I'm horrible about remembering jokes). There was "Java Joe" and his wife (Betty? We're not sure what her name is, actually.) we talked with at the Java Joe's restaurant over breakfast Saturday and Sunday morning. They were fun and reminded me a bit of my mom and stepdad. Java Joe was super friendly with a fun personality like my stepdad Keith and "Betty" (for lack of her actual name) had eclectic, interesting things to talk about like my mom. They had lived many places like Denver, L.A, Texas....and "Betty" told us stories about the conservative ways of the locals....as well as some not so conservative folks (she joked that some people don't do anything else in town besides get drunk, get stoned, and "get laid" because it's all they've ever known growing up in the small community). She also talked proudly of her family, particularly her artist son. It made me miss my mom a bit (that was on my birthday too).


There was the bartender at Patrick Sinclair's Irish Pub on Macinac Island who we had a funny conversation with, which partly involved my asking him the craziest thing he's seen a customer do at this particular bar on the island. He told us a drunken middle aged man accepted a dare someone gave him: to walk across the local bridge wearing NOTHING except gloves and socks/shoes. Oh, what idiotic things alcohol can make a person do. Hahaha. Subject of conversation inevitably led to what I do for work. My reply? "Substance Abuse Counselor." He laughed and I elaborated on my drug addict clients.


Then there was the cute twentysomething bartender at a can't-remember-the-name-of-it pub where we had pizza and beer on Saturday night just outside of St. Ignace in Mackinac City. He went on and on about how bad the economy is in Michigan (or at least in the surrounding areas) since they shut down factories, laid off workers, and haven't had many customers in various businesses (including the bar and restaurant industries). He told us he had a young child to support and was only working 2 days a week. Even though we only had a pizza and 5 beers total amongst the 3 of us, we felt bad for the guy (and he was so nice) and decided to leave him a $10 tip after we finished playing a little pool. We're pretty sure we made his night, maybe even his week.


Friday night we took a shuttle (you call them up and they pick you up in a van) to Kewadin Casino just a few short miles away from our motel in St. Ignace. I think we were probably the youngest and best looking people there, but I digress. No big winnings for me. Just some shortlived, albeit fun times, on the penny, nickel and quarter machines. I wasn't a fan of the penny, nor the quarter machine....but I did find this one particular nickel slot machine to be "me lucky charm" (which just means I got to rack up the points and play longer without paying more...hahaha! We enjoyed having a few drinks at the bar, talking with a few of the friendly bartenders and had some dinner there. But the security guards (wannabe cops!) we could have done without. They were being really lame about our taking pictures anywhere NEAR the radius of "the pit" (the term for the floor where all the slot machines and tables are) considering almost all the pictures we took were in the bar area, but whatever. We think they were just bored with nothing else to do, especially since they didn't seem to be strictly enforcing their claims. I got a little tipsy that night. All in all, good times.

On our way back to the motel, our shuttle guy Mike had recommended we try the aforementioned Java Joe's restaurant for breakfast in the morning...so we did. We had omelets Saturday morning and were so impressed that we decided to go back Sunday morning (my birthday!) to try Java Joe's self-proclaimed famous crepes and stuffed french toast. The guys had the crepes and I had the yummy french toast. I thought their food was better than any breakfast place I've been to in Chicago, it was that good! :)


After breakfast Saturday morning, we took the 10:30 ferry ride (the only way to get there, as there are no cars allowed on the island) to Mackinac Island. MANY photos to see later when I post and email through Shutterfly, hopefully later today. :) I had never been on a "real" ferry before besides the silly ones you go on at theme parks,etc. I also had never been on an island. Leave it to me to go to a cold island over a tropical island for a 'first' island experience. Gotta love it.


It was truly cold that Saturday, but we dressed in the highest fashion...with our thermal underwear on underneath to keep everything intact of course, hehehe. If we thought St. Ignace was desolate, the island was EXTREMELY desolate. It was great! :) We were pretty much the only ones on foot; everyone else was on their snowmobiles or could be found in one of the only places open on the island this time of year: the Irish pub. Hahaha. After consuming a tasty and WARM Bailey's Irish coffee at the pub, we "trekked" (as Rajiv likes to say, hehehe) across the island for what turned out to be 4 and a half hours of peace, quiet and absolute beauty. Snow and trees everywhere.


Katie DID have to pee pretty bad though and after holding it for about an hour with no bathrooms in sight, she decided to throw caution to the wind and adapt to nature's whims. Yes, that's right....Handing over my coat and other crap to Eddie, I peed behind a shed that housed a bunch of leather straps out in the middle of nowhere (or somewhere near Arch Rock, to be exact). Needless to say, I felt refreshed afterwards. :)

The main sights we snapped away with our cameras? Fort Mackinac, Arch Rock, St. Ann's Cemetary, Skull Cave, and the Grand Hotel (where they filmed the movie "Somewhere in Time" for those who know the romantic chick flick from the 80's!). The locals around us sped past us with their snowmobiles or could be found hanging out at a bonfire along the lake. Adults drinking and children sledding (usually nearly crashing!) down the hills in the snow. Around 4pm (!!) Eddie suggested we have a "pre-birthday shot" back at the Irish pub to warm our frozen bones before the 4:30 ferry ride back to "the mainland" of St. Ignace. He didn't have to twist my arm! :) After we ate pizza and beer a few hours later, we collapsed at just after 9:00 and slept like absolute champions that night. Hahaha.


Since we had gone to sleep so early though, funny enough....we woke up around 6am: my birthday!! Eddie and Rajiv gave me a card and Borders giftcard as a birthday present and we headed to breakfast. Poor Eddie chipped his tooth (on a CREPE?!?!), but apparently he says he's fine. Over the course of the day, I received random text messages and phone calls from friends. Even though I had no reception on my phone most of that day, it was nice to know others were thinking of me. :) I was able to talk with my mom and brother Alex briefly, but that was the extent of birthday phone conversations. After breakfast we headed out about an hour away to Tahquamenon Falls. Absolutely gorgeous! Took lots of pictures at this place too, then had lunch at the brewery/restaurant on the premises. I hadn't been in a brewery before and decided to try a cherry wheat beer. I also ate something I never saw myself trying until that day: an edible orchid flower. (It came with our meal) I would have to agree with my friend Eddie who said: "It pretty much tastes the way I'd imagine a flower would taste..." Hehehe.


Despite the creepy dead animals (cougars, bears, moose, and any other wintery forest animal you can think of) tacked on the walls, the food we had at this brewery was the best food we had the entire trip. I had a salad with some good bread, charbroiled jumbo shrimp marinated in herbs and beer (mmmm!), rice pilaf, corn, and a bite of a flower. Hahaha. The guys told the staff it was my birthday and so of course they did the whole singing/lit candle on a slice of cake deal. Normally I would have killed them for telling a restaurant it's my birthday, but we were like the only ones there besides a couple sitting beside us....and the "Chocolate Seduction" cake they brought out?!?!? Truly seducing. And I'm not much of a cake person!


Next up was Sault (pronounced "Soo") St. Marie, Michigan/border of Canada a few hours away from T. Falls. We didn't stay there long though because it was dark and everything was closed/shut by the time we got there in early evening. I took a few pictures though. Got back to the motel, changed into my "hot pants" (my new jeans that make me look skinny, for those not in the know with Katie lingo!) and headed back to the casino for a few birthday drinks. My dad had called while we were on our way out, so I called him back and chatted for a few minutes once we got to the casino. Later, my friend Carla called as we waited for our shuttle ride back to the motel. She sang to me and made me laugh about various things, as she always does. Love that woman. :) Once back, it was a Scrabble game with Eddie and then went to bed.

Monday December 17, 2007: We headed back home. While I wasn't ready to go back to "reality," I knew it couldn't last forever. But the adventures of this birthday girl were fun while they lasted....

Embracing a new decade: The 30's!! :)

Sooooooo, the next time I'll be writing a blog on here (because I'm going out of town tomorrow and won't be near a computer again till Tuesday) I will officially be.....30! In the spirit of my upcoming new "decade on Earth" (as my brother Alex says, which made me laugh), I had some motivational moments last week as I contemplated goals and wishes I'd like to accomplish (and/or like to continue doing) in my 30's. In an email yesterday, a friend of mine told me that apparently '30 is the new 20.' Great reassurance. We'll see about that. Hahaha.

In no particular order, here are some of Katie's goals/wishes! :)

1. Let go of (notice I said 'let go' and not 'lose'....if I 'lose' I can find it again, so instead I'd like to 'release' or 'let go of') 30 pounds of excess body fat.

2. Become more active outdoors (hiking and other outdoorsy stuff).

3. Get my very own dog to call my own (Sorry Chloe; I still love you!).

4. Let go of any unhealthy/toxic relationships in my life.

5. Find 'the one' and have a phenomenal, long lasting relationship with him.

6. Travel outside the U.S.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

7. Continue to write honest and meaningful things.

8. Write a book (with Carol?). :)

9. Get involved in some kind of teaching.

10. Decrease my financial debts.

11. Get my next counseling license (whatever the equivalent is of IL's LCPC...so I can get into private practice work someday!).

12. Go on a cruise (Hell yeah! Pack your bags Mom...and Tracy...and Nicole...and whoever else wants to join in on the par-tay!). :)

13. Ride on a motorcyle: at least once. Anyone, anyone? :)

14. Learn CPR/First Aid and become certified.

15. Learn to shoot a gun/go to the gun range with my Dad next time I'm in Florida! :)

16. Get an Ipod. (I REALLY want one!)

17. Stop being a whiner/complainer about dumb shit.

18. Stop being so hard on myself. (Right, Rajiv?) ;)

19. See things as they are and not how I would like them to be (This is VERY hard at times!).

20. Continue being creative with my writing and photography because it makes me happy. :)

21. Continue cultivating honest, loving, and meaningful/intimate relationships with people in my life.

22. Continue engaging in meaningful work with my clients/career.

23. Continue pushing myself beyond comfort zones/fear.

24. Remain interesting by reinventing myself when I feel like it. :)

25. Get married and start a family.

26. Become more attractive and more confident with myself with each passing "older" year of my life!!!!! Cheers to Katie.

27. Utilize acquired wisdom to keep from making the same mistake more than once.

28. Always surround myself (mentally and emotionally) with positive, caring, and inspiring people, ESPECIALLY the strong women "teachers" and "counselors" in my life: Mom, Carla, Tracy, and Carol. Love ya. :)

29. Overcome abandonment and rejection issues: a work in progress.

30. Cut down on my carbs/susceptibility to emotional eating.

31. Ride in a hot air balloon.

32. Organize and participate in a nerdy (but cool, folks!) reading group.

33. Try rock climbing and hang gliding (or is it parasailing? hmmm....).

AND FINALLY......

34. HAVE NO EXPECTATIONS. (Most challenging of all, but I'll do my best on this one!!!)

Blood

I had a very bizarre and somewhat creepy start to my morning on the way to work. I was walking to the train a little after 5am. As I approached Corus bank (my bank, actually) at the corner of Clark and Belmont (on the sidewalk), there was a woman making a call on her cell phone. As I waited for the light to change so I could cross the street, something bright red caught the corner of my peripheral vision to my left.

I looked down to see a crumpled up white dress shirt with some kind of design on a part of it....covered in bright red blood. Almost the entire shirt was red, and it wasn't red paint. It was definitely blood. I found myself muttering "What the hell?" under my breath. I turned around to look at the woman on her cell phone and I assume she was calling the police because I heard her say something about calling to report the bloody shirt she found, not sure if it was something that needed to be investigated/"talked about."

The light then changed and I crossed the street.

Everyone has a story

One of the most interesting things about my job (and there are MANY, lol) is working with new clients. Most of the clients on my caseload have been with me for a year or two now, so it's easy to feel a sense of complacency after you've known a client for awhile. Sure, there are unexpected moments in counseling, but it's not frequent. Most of them can be fairly predictable....with their behavior anyway. So when I get a new client, there's an intriguing anticipation (as long as he/she isn't the difficult client from hell...those aren't as much of a treat to work with) of wondering what his or her story is and what has brought them to walk into our door for treatment. Many of them have a long history of addiction, hence some of them have been in and out of treatment numerous times. But what I have learned working with addicts is that no matter how many times they have had treatment, you have to treat them as if it is the first time because it could be the time it works for them. This past week has been stressful and at times chaotic, as Carol and I have been slammed with new clients transferring to us from a facility that closed abruptly for whatever unknown reason. It's always interesting to see how other clinics do things either similarly or differently than us.

So far (knock on wood) my handful of new clients have been unusually cooperative and nice. I guess I'm so used to resistant and non-compliant low income level clients who typically have a bad attitude that working with these new clientele almost feels like a walk in the park...well, not exactly...but you know what I mean. As part of the intake process of paperwork and putting the new charts together, the doctor I work with wants me to pull certain forms from their former clinic charts that we have. Alot of them have been real thick, which means I've had to sift through lots of paperwork. Through this tedious process, I came across some odd 'personal history' forms that this clinic does that we don't do. At my clinic, we have them fill out very generic paperwork, but the real personal stuff is reserved for when I meet with them to do an intake assessment on a program on my computer. It looks like this clinic wasn't up with the age of technology though; everything was on paper/done by hand!! Holy cow. I would have chronic carpal tunnel. How can some places still have such archaic administrative practices? Wow. Anyway, getting off my tangent there.

What I noticed as I looked at this 'personal history' form was what I thought were odd, irrelevant albeit interesting questions they were asking. I joked to my coworker Manuela that it seemed more like a form they would give someone to fill out if they were applying for a job with the FBI. There was a section on nutrition. It asked what the person typically eats for breakfast, lunch, and dinner followed by how often per week they eat each meal and whether they eat a "low," "moderate," or "high" (no pun intended, hehehe) volume of food. An employment section that included how long they were there and if they weren't there anymore, why not. Another one asked how many sexual partners the person has had in the past 10 years and check 'yes' or 'no' for vaginal, anal, and/or oral sex. I'm surprised it didn't ask whether they bought Fruit of the Looms or Victoria's Secret undergarments. Or how often he/she goes to the bathroom or masturbates. It's like, geez. If these kinds of questions must be answered (and I don't believe they do), give the person some privacy to at least not have to write it down on a form that becomes their permanent record in the clinic. Tell the counselor instead on their own terms/comfort level. No wonder it can take clients a long time to feel comfortable trusting and opening up to a healthcare professional.

Have we become too desensitized to treating someone like a human being, instead using labels to describe someone as "morbidly obese," "follower," etc? We as individuals can be these things, sure, but it is only a small part that encompasses our overall self/soul. What's covered on a piece of paper doesn't even begin to reveal the real juicy elements of one's life 'stories' that I get to hear in my many great and at times infamous "Sessions."

Everyone has a story. If I'm lucky, I get to hear their 'novel' with its many chapters....not the Cliff Notes version.

Winter wonderland

For as many years as I've lived in Chicago, I never cease to be in awe of those first few snowstorms at the beginning of each new winter. There's something magical about it, especially at night when the sky is so dark that the powdery snow on the ground glistens in the slightest amount of light. I sometimes wonder how something that falls from the sky can be such a natural beauty. An otherwise boring looking tree in non-snowy cold weather can be suddenly transformed into a "painting" out of a fairytale, covered in heaps of pure white snow. You can hear the soft 'crunch' of your shoes pressing into the snow with each step you take and oddly enough, you can almost hear yourself think....an anomaly in an otherwise noisy city. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow....

Intimacy is better than 'best'

I was thinking last night about how my friendships have changed over the years. Not too long ago, I was thinking it seemed to me that friendships get harder as one grows up into adulthood and it saddened me. After having a very honest, emotional and thought provoking conversation about this very subject with two very close friends of mine last night, I was filled with quite the opposite feeling though: gratitude. My feeling that friendships can be difficult certainly hasn't changed, but my outlook on it has shifted. Just because something is hard, doesn't mean it's a bad thing; it can be a very positive thing. At the risk of sounding cliche, the hardest and most challenging things in life can also provide us the most unconditional, priceless reward: love, compassion, hope, honesty, intimacy, and the capacity for profound growth/change (both within ourselves AND within our most meaningful relationships with others). My dinner with two friends last night started out normal, but felt anything but normal as I headed home, walking down my street and quietly contemplating these deeper matters.


Midway through dinner, my friend Rajiv (pictured here) and I got in a bit of a 'spat.' It bothered me more than it seemed to bother him and I was prepared to leave without finishing my meal because I was so upset. Something within myself stopped me though and I decided to stay. I'm glad I did. In the past, whenever I have felt I was being judged or attacked in any way by someone I considered a 'best' friend, I would go in retreat mode. One of my "best" friends from high school betrayed me so badly that I ended the friendship and haven't spoken to her since my last year of undergraduate college. It seemed like my "best" friends either loved me or they judged me. It was a foreign concept to me that a friend could do both and even more foreign, that it's perfectly alright and natural, healthy even, to be a mixture of the two. Still, I sometimes have a hard time knowing how to respond when arguments arise. I tend to think there's something wrong with the friendship if we're disagreeing, not seeing eye to eye. I have to step back and remind myself that conflict doesn't mean a friendship is in jeopardy. Rajiv has given me this gift in our friendship, the gift of a healthy argument. Don't get me wrong, I don't like it. I don't like arguing with ANYONE, let anyone those closest to me....but I have become more comfortable with the uncomfortable feeling because it usually brings us closer to understanding each other in the bigger scheme of things.


My friendships from my early to mid twenties have been shaped by the memories of what a 'best' friend has come to mean for me. I don't like the 'best friend' title anymore and if you know me well, you may notice I don't refer to any 'best' friends of mine. "Close," yes. "Best," no. When I have felt someone was my "best friend" in the past, I have been hurt, betrayed, and confused by what I felt were not genuine intentions. The term has come to have a negative connotation instead of a positive one. Instead, nowadays I like to use the word 'close' friend. The word carries more meaning for me and it leaves me feeling more hopeful of having a genuine and long lasting connection. I have had too many friendships when I was younger where it felt more like lip service, stereotypical and fake.


And now as I approach my thirties, it (friendship) has become so much more rich with intimacy. It simultaneously gives me great terror/anxiety and great joy! Last night, my friend Rajiv had pointed out things about me that he didn't like or found annoying. It really hurt my feelings and it wasn't so much what he was telling me. I kept trying to drill into his head that it was the way he comes across when he has something honest to say. I value honest feedback, but it's all in the approach. Seeing as he and I can both be stubborn about getting our point across (must be a Sagittarian thing, hahaha!), I think he and I could both work on how we communicate with each other. With a good give and take between us though, it's something that we can work on. After raising our voices and brief tears on my part, we were able to work past the argument and have a very interesting conversation about the vulnerabilities of friendship and how scary it can be to open yourself up to a friend in an intimate way. As much as it scares me, I still want it: an 'intimate friend.' So I push myself past the discomfort and look at what's really going on.

It may not happen right away, but our ability to intimately share things with others that may initially be uncomfortable to hear can reap something greater in the long run: knowing that you can still be yourself and no matter how good, bad, or unpredictable that may be, you are still loved for who you are. "Best" friends fade. "Intimate" friends are in it for the long haul.

Interestingly, I just had a session with a client this morning and something he said stuck with me as the perfect analogy for the theme of intimate friendships. He was talking about his pet lovebirds, how they will fight with each other in their cage one minute, and then be kissing each other the next. I laughed and told him that maybe there's something we humans can learn from lovebirds....that even if you're upset with someone you love in one moment, you can be reminded of why you love that same person in the next moment....to kiss and make up. And that's more real than one might possibly hope for in a friend.

With that said, I'd like to include a blog my friend Rajiv wrote last night about thoughts he had about friendship after our dinner discussion. My response to his blog follows, as well as my other close friend Eddie's response to his blog. Cheers to intimate friendships. :)

"What do friendships really mean?" (Rajiv)

I got to thinking about friendships tonite after I got home for dinner. Well, I have been thinking about it for a while now to put down my thoughts just so that, if not for anything else, I can read it again in a few years from now and would force me to think if I still believe in what I wrote today. I hope I do.

From since I was a little kid, being in the company of other kids my age would make me feel good. Being with other kids, playing with them, joking with them made me feel wanted and desired. I never really had a problem making friends at school. I consider myself a very friendly person, somebody who is easy to talk to, somebody who loves to listen and somebody who always is patient. I have been lucky to have had a few very good friends. And by friendships, I mean people I can open myself out to completely and let all my fears, all my inhibitions and all my true feelings out. A friend to me is somebody I will feel comfortable to be bare with, with all my feelings and all that I am feeling. There would nothing to be embarassed about, nothing to be scared about.

I know there are different kinds of friends we all have...friends we hang out with occasionally, friends we go out and have a couple of beers with and then there are friends who we can open ourselves out to completely with both the good and the ugly and would still feel assured in our hearts that they would accept us no matter what.

I have had friends of both kinds in the 31 years of my life. I am sure I am gonna meet a lot more people in my life and I hope I form a few good friendships with at least some of them. But, as I get older, I have realised something about myself that was probably something I have done subconsciously all along, just never realised it. I am the kind of person who believes in real friendships, people who stay with you through thick and thin. Maybe that is why I have a few friends, because I probably expect a lot from friendships. I have very high standards. Friends aren't just the people you connect with to go out and have a few drinks with or watch a movie or two and do small talk with. I mean all that is good, but I am the kind of person who gets tired of that easily. All through my years in grade school and high school and even my college years, I have made friends for the long-term, people I will remember till I die.

Sometimes it makes me wonder as I get older, is it just enough to have friends or do we really need 'more', by 'more' I mean friends who will not be afraid to say what they have to say for the greater good, or will they just succumb to the stereotype? I would personally have friends who would rather tell me how they really feel that just words I want to hear, because even though those words might sting in the beginning, I would know somebody really cared enough about me to have taken that step.

Maybe what I say is difficult to comprehend because none of us want to be lonely really. We all seek companinonships, but at the risk of sounding different...I would rather have just a couple friends who I can truly call my FRIENDS than just people who can fill my address book with.

My response:

Wonderfully spoken. :) And if I didn't answer your question last night, the people I am closest to in my life don't tell me what I want to hear....like I said, it's just the WAY they say something honestly. I too was thinking about friendships walking down my street to go home last night. This whole time I've been freaking out about my upcoming 30th birthday, last night I had the opposite reaction....one of gratitude.

My relationships are only getting better as the years progress, more of the kind you mention: the good, the bad, and the uncomfortable (I don't like to say 'ugly' because to me that word just sounds petty and relationships are more complex than that) all wrapped into one. I think the reason I get so uncomfortable and hurt by things you say at times is because when I was younger my friendships seemed to be 'all or nothing.' Either a friend loved me in a loyal way, or they betrayed/hurt me in some very harsh way. Contemplating this last night though, I realized maybe like Eddie was saying, I too am feeling my way through the dark of what it feels like to have a more 'real' intimate friendship....one that you can laugh with one day, but feel completely vulnerable and exposed with in a good AND scary way the next.

Funny enough, I was thinking about writing a blog about this subject today too....but I think you about covered it Rajiv. :) I still don't think I can live up to your high standards of friendship and part of me doesn't want to. I'm more the kind of person that meets people where they're at (mentally and emotionally), so I think that is why I get frustrated when I don't get that in return in friendships....but perhaps it's like we were talking about last night: we are just different people, and that's ok too.

As long as we can continue to be honest and respectful of one another (you, me, and anyone in a friendship really), friendship can only grow stronger from it. Love you, Katie

Eddie's response to Rajiv's blog:

I concur. Having wonderful, caring people around me often (namely you and Katie) has made it much easier for me to let go of people in my life who didn't have anything to offer. I fall into a rut easily - in many aspects of my life - and having certain 'friends' in my life for as long as I did was really leaving me with an empty feeling. I have far fewer friends now at 29 than I did ten or even five years ago - but you know what? I am happy with this. Like you said I would much rather have a few people in my life that really matter instead of just having people who fill my cell phone. That isn't to say that I don't still have a few friends who are like that - but far fewer than I used to.Ask most people who have 100 people in their cell phone, and they will say the same thing. Only a few really matter. The ones who call everybody they know their friend, well, let's not get into that right now!It's pretty easy. You expect A LOT out of friends because you have had a very hard time meeting people and making friends which turn out to be REAL friends. Your standards used to be lower, and after being blown off so many times, and knowing dysfunctional people, you decided that enough was enough - you were only going to surround yourself with people who mattered.

My date with a 2 year old

I had told my friend Bridget if she ever wanted me to watch her 2 year old son Ian, I'd be happy to do it. I know she and her husband Mark don't get a chance to go out very often for grownup fun much anymore and I love kids.....so when she asked if I could watch him last night, I said "Of course!" While I'm great with kids, I have to admit I was a tad nervous. I have babysat young children before, but it had been a LONG time since I had watched a two year old. I forgot how much work it is to keep an eye on a toddler...regardless of how good or bad the child's behavior. I think I have a newfound respect for first-time parents (Ian is their first and only child thus far). I can totally understand now how parents don't have time for much else (especially the parent that is alone to take care of the child for hours on end) in the child's first few formative years.

I arrived shortly after 6:00pm and boy, were they happy to see me! Bridget told me she has not seen the friends she and Mark would be meeting for dinner since she was almost 9 months pregnant...about two years ago! No wonder she was so appreciative of me watching the little guy. They gave me a rundown of when to give him grapes for a pre-bedtime snack, what to do if he locks any of the doors (yes, he's done it before with his grandma apparently!), when to give him his cup of milk and water, changing and doubling up his diaper before bedtime, and the bedtime ritual (let him pick two trucks to take to bed and zip him up in a very user friendly toddler blanket). I got worried that I would forget something and even considered, "do I need to write all this down? What if I forget something?" I felt like I was back in school, except the subject matter seemed more foreign to me. I began to wonder how good of a mother I would be over the course of the evening. I think I got an "A+" on the average, but still...I had to wonder.

He cried a little bit when he saw his parents get in the elevator, but I picked him up and reassured him with my soft and calm voice that we were going to have fun hanging out together and that they would be back later. We played with oodles of cars: big cars, Matchbox cars, Monster trucks with the big wheels, and the medium sized cars that look nice but don't travel very far when you push them across the floor. I'd chase him around the apartment with one of those things that have the handle: when you roll it on the floor, the balls inside the plastic thing go up and down with a loud 'popping' sound. He ate his grapes and drank his milk. Everything was going swell....until I had to run to the bathroom to pee real quick. Mark had told me earlier not to worry if I had to go to the bathroom ("If he tries to come in, you can just kick him out," he joked). He didn't try to come into the bathroom, however, and his being really quiet is what worried me. When I came out of the bathroom, he was sitting still on the couch just looking at me. Seeing as he is generally a slightly hyper boy, I wondered if there was a reason he was being quieter than usual. Sure enough, I smelled something bad. We had a dirty diaper in our midst...the very thing I was most nervous about from the get-go.

I honestly can't even remember the last time I changed a diaper and/or WHOSE diaper it was for that matter. What if I forgot how? Is changing a diaper like riding a bike or driving a car....once you learn, no matter how long it is before you do it again, you can 'pick it up' again easily? Hmmm, I wasn't so sure. Ian looked at me with trusting eyes and a carefree attitude. I'm glad someone was feeling relaxed about the dirty diaper in this situation. I thought to myself, "Ok, I can do this. I have a Master's Degree in Marriage and Family Counseling, after all. It's just a diaper, Katie." At least this is how I reassured myself to wing it. I picked Ian up and began to strategize the best way to place Ian on the changing table. Ian seemed longer than the changing table, so this was a bit tricky. After deciding laying him down sideways seemed most feasible, it was time for the diaper showdown: It vs. Me. I had to win. Little did I know it would be worse than I anticipated, but I endured with grace and a sense of humor....so did Ian. With Huggies baby wipes and two Winnie the Pooh (and Tigger too!) diapers in tow, Ian smiled at me with the occasional laugh. I cleaned him up and carefully disposed the dirty diaper in the diaper receptacle to my right as I playfully teased him saying "I'm glad someone thinks this is funny..." Phew, got the cleaning out of the way. That was quickly replaced by an equally anxiety producing feeling: "What is the proper front and back side of the diaper? If I remember correctly, the tape/velcro on the side is the back part of the diaper..." I decided to use the diaper he had been wearing as guidance: Winnie the Pooh is on front, Tigger on the back (Which reinforced my theory, putting the side tabs on the back of the diaper). Success!

Being the diligent babysitter I was striving to be, I looked around for some fresh, clean pajama bottoms to replace the slightly 'spoiled' ones he was currently wearing. I searched a few nearby drawers, but came up emptyhanded. Oh well, I tried. I pick up Ian off the table and put him on the floor, whereupon we work as a team to manuever his little legs back into aforementioned pajama bottoms. I was proud of the little guy. He steadied himself pretty well, putting one leg and then another into each pant leg as he held onto my arm. Mission accomplished! It was smooth sailing after that, minus a slight glitch in zipping up his body blanket as he squirmed around. He babbled a little bit here and there before falling asleep about an hour later, but he didn't cry at all.

Aside from the diaper dilemna, I'd say my date with a 2 year old was the best date I've had in awhile. One could even say there might be a second date someday....