It's been with sporadic entries that my blog continues. Today I am home doped up on Ny-Quil and cough syrup with Codeine battling an ear infection. I've neglected self-care these past few months so it takes an illness to bring me down to earth to take some needed R&R to recharge my soul. I'm indulging in the therapies of watching Jim Henson movies, snuggling with cats, and couch sitting with assorted felines as my companions.
I'm in the final steps to completing my graduate degree! On Friday (before the ear infection hit with full force) I took my oral exams and I am happy to announce I passed! I was coughing during the exam but not yet in need of medications so my brain was alert and mostly functioning at full capacity. I was fortunate to be given Solution-Focused Therapy as the theory to view a specific case study through. I've used SFT in my own attempts at therapy and it's one of the easiest theories to comprehend and implement.
Now all I need to do is get over this ear infection, write a 3-4 page synthesis paper on the 5 theories of counseling we studied, and attend Module 7 to complete the course work portion of my degree. I still have all of my internship hours to complete, which just got set back by two weeks thanks to this infection.
I asked the doctor if I'm contagious and he said yes, that I should not be going in while I'm this way, because I'd pass it on. I probably got this from a client or being in the germ field of the agency. Kids have the unfortunate role of being germ carriers and transmitters. I can recall in my childhood while my immune system was developing that I spent one year in school having cold after cold after cold. Communicable diseases happen.
My third self-assessment is written and I got feedback from my peers. They are all thinking I've Achieved Competency. I think that I have, but have this little bit of feeling inside of me that I'm not quite there yet, and that's because of my internship not quite being at the half-way point.
The Codeine in the cough syrup is now making me forget why I am writing this entry. Could it be to simply say that I am here?
Vials of Astrovirus
Pooky and I are back to normal health after last week's bout with the stomach flu. I developed a theory about how we contracted the suspected astrovirus: Smee. What makes me think this is that during my prolonged napping periods, Smee would be all over me and he enjoyed our presence at home. I believe Smee acquired vials of the virus from a local research lab and laced our food.
Considering that I had been away visiting my brother, then away at Module, Smee was in a serious depletition of love, worship, petting, and basic feline maintenance. The only way he could have me to himself was to make me ill.
I do not doubt Smee's motives. He was incredibly happy to have me here, even if all I did was provide a body for him to sleep upon.
Tuesday night as I drove home from my internship I became very sick. Had to pull off the interstate and didn't make it to a real bathroom before hucking my guts onto some gravel in a dark parking lot. I called Pooky asking him to come get me—I was close to my sister's apartment complex so I managed to drive to the parking lot there and I waited for Pooky's rescue.
By the time we got home I was in full-blown mode of "skookumchucking". After staying awake until 4 am, I said I needed to go to the hospital for IV fluids or else I'd dehydrate. I was having severe muscle cramps in m calves. The kind of muscle cramps that are beyond charlie horses—I'd like to call them charlie clydesdales.
So not wanting to take me to the local hospital where they adeptly collapsed my lung, we drove down to Longview (45 minute drive turned longer because the weather forecast for snow did come true) where I was re-dydrated and given some meds to stop the vomitting.
Wednesday was lost to sleep. Thursday was lost to watching On-Demand Movies with Pooky staying home to make sure I ate something and got fluids since my ability to walk has declined thanks to my muscles being shredded and over all fatigue.
I awoke today feeling a little more human, able to eat small portions of food, but then Pooky announces that he is feeling sick only no vomitting just the runs. So he came home after a half-day of work and crawled into bed where he's been now for almost 4 hours.
The ER doctor said the stomach flu has been making its rounds. I wish they could vaccinate against that as I would much rather battle the regular flu, but then I have no idea what I am talking about. All I know is that it sucks big time to lose 7 pounds due to having every ounce of fluid in my body expelled unnaturally.
Best to wash your hands after reading this entry. For all I know somehow the germs for the stomach flu have found a way to transmit themselves through blogs.
The time is drawing nearer for me to start putting into my brain that indeed I will be boarding a plane on Christmas Day (too early almost) and flying out to North Carolina. My dread is the security search since last time I flew I encountered a stark contrast in attitudes about seizing the "contraband"—and the term "medical condition" and "medically necessary" doesn't mean a thing unless I have a doctor's prescription. I haven't gone to my doctor to get a note because the rebel in me thinks the government has gone too far in making people with medical conditions "prove" they are what they say they are. If I carry a bag of ostomy supplies that in itself should be proof and if they need to see my bag I'd be more open to that than having to get my doctor to "write me a note".
The only item in question that I am concerned about is the tube of ostomy paste. It is more than 3 ounces and doesn't come in a travel size. Technically, I could attempt to put on my ostomy wafer without the paste, but most likely it wouldn't seal properly or last as long, but in an emergency it is better than letting my stoma leak.
I could probably get away with not taking my ostomy travel bag with me because I will either change my bag the day before or the day of I am to get on the plane to make sure it is fresh. However, I just know if I don't have my supplies with me that I'll spring a leak. I'd rather not tempt fate like that because she likes mischief and the ill-prepared.
What sucks is that if they deem my ostomy paste contraband they seize it—because of course the set-up is to have you check your bag in first so you can't go back and stuff it inside your luggage. What sense is that? They need to have luggage check-in after you are searched. I hate losing a tube because it is difficult to come by.
No, I don't want to hear how these idiotic measures are making it safer for travellers to fly. The supposed war on terrorism is not doing shit, rather it serves to aid and abate the terrorists as far as I'm concerned. Our own government keeps riling people up and continuing the "terror". It's such an unhealthy way to deal with the situation. So what do I think is the best way to counter terrorism? Simple: don't be afraid; don't live in fear.
Yesterday was the wind storm of the year! It took me an extra 45 minutes to commute home and I got to see some pretty blue lightning flash. It's weird to drive along the interstate and see sections of the city I'm driving through be totally black due to power outtages.
When I got home I was zonked and we had power up until about 8:00 pm. We had just sat down to dinner and started eating when the lights were flickering so I lit the oil lamps. Once we finished eating, as if on cue, the lights went out. Then we decided to go to bed, although it was only 9 o'clock because I was tired and it was very dark (even with the oil lamps).
Then the lights went back on around 10 o'clock, but we didn't get back up since it was too comfortable in bed and we had been joined by some cats by then. The wind did blow hard and the rattling windows kept waking me up from time to time.
I'll be venturing out today to run errands, so I'll see what kind of damage has happened within the community.
Update
The kitties were pretty oblivious to the storm. When the lights went out they seemed to wonder why their hairless apes were stumbling around. To them the lighting was adequate!
When I went into town nothing seemed out of place, but Pooky had stories about people snapping up generators at Home Depot within hours. Just outside of our area the town of Pe Ell (pronounced like the letters "p" and "l") had all of its power poles and telephones lines knocked down so there are many people without electricity. We are some of the luckiest people in the state with our power being off briefly.
First it Floods, then it Snows. What's Next?
I awoke this morning hearing children's voices laughing and having fun. Odd, I thought. It's a Monday. I didn't think school was closed for Thanksgiving. Then I saw out the window in the closet that the trees looked very snow-covered.
I wasn't surprised—as the forecast had said we could get snow Saturday night into Sunday morning. Turns out the weathermen were a day off. But I'm sure the kids were happy by Mother Nature showing up on Monday instead of Sunday.
The beasties didn't give me the look as if to say, "Make that cold litterbox stuff go away!" as I believe they are in a state of denial. They all acted like it was another day in the world in which I am to serve them their tuna in a timely manner.
This morning I awoke before the gods to go with trepidation about my dental appointment. I was fearing that I'd have to endure a root canal, that the anesthetic wouldn't kill the pain, and by all was said and done I'd be out hundreds of dollars.
Not only was my face numbed beyond expectations, the drilling was minimal, and all was done in about an hour! I was out only $36 for the filling and have been spared the expense and horror of a root canal.
So what did I promptly do upon returning back home? I went and bought a new toothbrush and toothpaste because I am determined to keep my teeth free from further dental procedures beyond the occasional filling. I'll poison myself with fluoride if necessary.
It's official: I'll be flying out to North Carolina on Christmas day to visit my brother and his family for a week. I will be meeting my nieces and nephew for the first time. The oldest, my niece, is 10 years old.
My niece is, in my estimation, a junior crazy cat lady in training. I'm sure she and I will get along in person. I've been writing letters to her for awhile, and I have a feeling that we'll shift from a paper relationship to living one very nicely.
I've wanted to visit The South for awhile, and I consider North Carolina to be one of the southernly states. I told my brother I'm interested in seeing historical sites, grocery stores, and eating real barbecue. Kooky roadside attractions, too, but not as important as getting slow-cooked meat.
Pooky won't be going with me—finances factor into the decision. He also has more duties at work and so getting that amount of time off isn't easy. I may have to stow Smee in my luggage as I don't think I can be away from my Ami that long. I'll be coming back on the 31st, then I leave for Module 3 on the night of the 3rd for a four-day stint with my classmates. I will have just enough time to unpack my stuff, wash it, and reload.
I have a lay-over in Las Vegas on both flights coming and going, so I will get to see a little bit of the wonders. I've something like a morbid curiosity about Las Vegas—too bad I can't go into the city, but the airport will do just fine.
I was told about a year ago that I should gave a crown for my large molar on the bottom right side of my mouth, but I didn't have the money to pay for it, so I waited and saved up the money. When I returned to the same dentist about 8 months later he said that not only would I need the crown, but now a root canal.
Considering that I didn't like how I was treated by the receptionist at this dentist's office, I began to consider that perhaps I should seek a different dentist, as I had a very negative feeling about the whole situation. The dentist spoke with a thick accent and I could barely make out what he was saying, and he wasn't someone I could converse with to ask questions. Along with the receptionist being a total feeb, I scheduled to see a different dentist.
Yesterday I saw that different dentist and it made all the difference in the world! The dentist I saw looked at my tooth and said that the original filling had wore away, and that all that needed to be done was simply remove that old filling and patch up the spot of decay with a new filling! No crown, no root canal!
He did say that he may find that the decay goes a little deeper and a root canal is a small chance of possibility, and he won't know until he gets into the process of doing the filling—but he seemed to think a simply filling was all that was required.
Which makes me think of the original dentist wanting me to have a crown and then bumping it up to a root canal. My impression is the first dentist either isn't very good or money-hungry, or both!
My co-pay for the filling will be less than $40, which surely beats the $600 I'd have to pay for the root canal. I'm still in a state of disbelief and shock over the difference in diagnosis and treatment!
On the day I saw the judge's results for my doily, I bent the ear of the attendant on duty and then called the Superintendent of Home Arts to discuss with her the judge's decision. She (the Superintendent) called me back this morning and said she reviewed my judge's score card.
Apparently, because my doily lacked in the presentation (she assumed it wasn't blocked) I lost points. But more importantly, the judge wrote a comment that my doily lacked functionality!
I told the Superintendent that "functionality" is not listed in the rule book as a criteria to be judged upon, that if it is a critieria than it should be listed in the rule book as such. The Superintendent said that there is no possible way that every criteria could be printed in the rule book, that it would be too difficult because there are hundreds of departments and the additional set of criteria would fill up an entire booklet!
I addressed the fact that first place went to my sister's table runner with obvious mistakes, the Super tried to discredit this by saying that my doily wasn't in that category. I said but it sends a message that contestants can enter less than perfect, inferior work and still win a blue ribbon--and that it lessens the competition. She changed the subject on me.
Hmmm...I've made the Tala doily before and sent it to a swap partner. I better tell her it isn't functional and she should immediately remove it from wherever she placed it! Please dear readers, if someone sent you the Tala doily, or if you have made one: immediately cease and dissist using it! It's not functional!
The Super said that after I pick up my doily I can contact her and that the judge will contact me--and discuss with me why my doily was "honorable mention". I will follow through on this, mostly to be a thorn in their side. I go by the philosophy if I can't be a good example then at least I can be a horrible warning.
And definitely, I won't be entering my work again at this fair.
I read through the Puyallup Fair's rule book and found a very brief mention that I can submit a written protest of the judge's decision within 24 hours of discovery of the ruling, accompanied with a $25 fee. The fee is returned if the judge's ruling is overturned. Otherwise if the judge's ruling still stands, I lose the $25! The prize money for first place is $5!
I've been debating if I should give up the fair contest scene. I could invest energy into getting this judge removed but there is no guarantee that the person who takes her place will make unbiased decisions. The only way to avoid awards going to certain types of doilies would be to have a panel of judges. No fair competition that I am aware of employs the use of a judging panel.
My other idea is to submit my work to different fairs in the state next year and see how those judge's score my work. The Clark County Fair and the Evergreen State Fair are large regional fairs that may be a venue for me to explore.
Clark County Fair has just one class for crocheted doilies, 35" and under so that means I would be able to enter just one item. Probably not worth the drive there to submit something.
The Evergreen State Fair has some interesting rules. All doilies under 20" must be sewn to black poster board! And here's a note on color. They have separate classes for white/ecru and for color. So technically I could enter a white or ecru doily and a colored one. Sweet! At the Evergeen State Fair it looks like I could enter up to fourdoilies based upon the four different classes recognized. Their size division is for 14" or under, which is not as difficult to accomplish as 12" or under.
The hitch about the Evergreen State Fair is that it's up in Monroe. Monroe is out in the middle of nowhere. It would be a 2½ hour drive to get there. The only bonus is that on the way to Monroe is a great little place for breakfast in Maltby. Maybe the drive wouldn't be so horrible if there was a good breakfast to be had.
Since I had to be less than a mile away from the Fair today, I coughed up $15 to find out the scoop on my doilies. I needed to find out if that honorable mention was a mistake. It was not, and I also found out more than I bargained for.
Perhaps I am suffering from "sore loser" syndrome, so I will state the facts with pictures. You can decide for yourself if these items were judged appropriately.
I did not win first place as I assumed from my dad's report. It was my sister's table runner with a known pair of mistakes in it that are quite obvious. The red arrows point them out. She almost didn't enter this runner because of the mistakes but I encouraged her to do so. I do not deny that her work is good, but I am left scratching my head how first place could be given to any item with mistakes that would and should be apparent to an expert.
The highest ribbon I won was 2nd place on my Svanhild doily. I did not take pictures of the 1st and 3rd place winners in this category because I was too livid with the honorable mention and what doilies took 1st and 2nd place in the 5130 class, which is what is the 12" and under category.
I realize that degree of difficulty accounts for 20% of the total score. The breakdown is 40% craftsmanship, 20% presentation, and then 20% for design which means proportion, line, color, and individuality. The total is 100%.
I have put my doily with the 1st and 2nd place winners respectively in the photographs below to let you decide if the judge made the right decision. I didn't photograph the 3rd place doily as I did not see it. I was too flooded with emotions to be rational.
I have pictures of other doilies that I felt were far superior in degree of difficulty and originality that also received honorable mention. Someone had made an elaborate painted doily and it was given an honorable mention. Grand champion went to a doily made of sewing thread and the design was simplistic. Working with sewing thread is like working with size 100 thread. It's impressive but not that impressive.
I admit I am too emotionally charged by the judge's results to be objective. I want your honest feedback on the results. Do you agree with how the doilies were scored?
While I was there I seized a fair attendant and pointed out to her my grievances, pointing out that the nature of the judge's decisions. She said I could write down my name and that possibly the lace work judge would contact me. I wrote out my grievances, and I also asked if there is someone I could speak to about my grievance. She gave me the phone number of the Home Arts Superintendent. I do plan on calling the Superintendent, once I calm down enough to figure out what to say.
I'm not after to have ribbons revoked or anything like that. What is done is done, but I'd like to see this lace work judge retired. I'd also like to see the system revised so that a panel of judges reviews the work independently so that favorites aren't created. I've noticed with this judge that not only are simple designs favored, but things like sewing thread and either all white or ecru are given ribbons whereas the colorful doilies are honorable mentions.
An afterthought...I just finished reading Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil and absolutely adore The Lady Chablis in the book and movie. Her tag line comes to mind and I'll say it here: Two tears in a bucket, mother-fuck it!
I've noticed that my entries are all day specific memes. So what's going on in the Shrone's world? Here's the juicy gossip you've all been hopefully waiting for!
Internship Countdown
At long last all documents have been acquired and on Monday I go see my supervisor {aka Paul} to have him complete my internship contract so I can submit it to the school for final approval. I will also be seeing someone who does all of the orientation coordination. My start date for the internship is October 2nd, the day I come back from Module 1. I will be like a glazed ham after the first module, but I want to get started ASAP on my internship hours. The dread of starting my internship is I will be seeing clients on my first day! I have been told I will not be given a difficult case.Blue Ribbon Dreams
I had my dream already how I'd fair at the fair. In my dream I won two blue ribbons on my doilies and I was in a state of disbelief! I just stood there looking at those blue ribbons convinced that there had been a mistake. I won't know how I did until I attend the fair on my birthday. Of course I could call the fair offices tomorrow and find out, but I'd rather wait for the suprise and see if my subconscious will generate more crazy dreams.My sister had me enter a table runner she made, which is not in either of the two classes my doilies were entered into; however, we are both in contention for grand champion honors. Only in my wildest dreams would I think either of my doilies are supreme enough for grand champion as that would be winner of the enter lace division!
Endless Shrimp
My waiting is soon to be over for endless shrimp scampi needs! We'll stuff ourselves like shrimp at Red Lobster on my b-day as the annual promotion has started! I warned Pooky not to tell the server it will be my b-day because then they sing and do their Red Lobster thing and I don't want to pause eating my scampi. I can almost taste the garlic-y buttery salty goodness!New Job?
Pooky has been applying for promotions at work. His master's degree is in Human Resources, and although he's got one year left of study, he's decided to put his bachelor's degree to work which seems to be qualification enough at Home Depot. Everything is still pending which means hurrying up and waiting. If he does land an offer for either of the jobs it would be a significant pay raise. Extra money means we can afford more cats!I'm Almost at 80!
By the end of this weekend I'll have married my 80th couple! I'm hoping that by the end of this year I will have married my 100th couple. My year-to-date number of couples is almost at 30. I had a really great spring season for marriages, had five cancellations in July, but made up for it in August with 6 weddings. I am scheduled for 5 weddings this month, but today received 3 highly interested calls within two hours for last-minute nuptials. I've noticed that my business comes in floods like that, where one day everyone calls to schedule and then I won't get a call for weeks at a time.I also managed to pull off 3 weddings in one day in August. I thought I was going to have 4, but one never confirmed. I previously have done 3 in one day, so have yet to break that record. With the way October has booked before, I may schedule 3 weddings in one day, or maybe even 4!
Smee
I fear when I go to Module at the end of the month that I'll suffer Smee-sickness, meaning I'll miss my Ecru Wonder so much that I'll be unable to eat, sleep, or speak coherently! He's been my little shadow and lap warmer this summer and my day doesn't go right unless we spend quality purring time with each other. I look at him and wonder where that little 4.6 ounce baby went that could not even stand when we brought him in out of the window well. He is now 14.4 pounds and has a healthy, round tummy. I hope he thinks of me as his mommy because I think of him as my baby. *sigh*I want to enter something wearable into this year's fair and now I have to decide if that something wearable will be this halter top that I recently bought the pattern to from Nexstitch (I saw the post on C'Ville and bought it immediately, then yesterday I bought the skeins of Paton's Grace to make it selecting the color called Viola for it), or do I finish up the Diamond Lace Tunic sweater I started back in December using Knitpicks Merino Style wool in Iris? Technically I could enter both but don't know if I have the time to complete both projects while still thinking about my doily dilemma which is this:
The under 12" doily I've been working on in size 40 thread, I've come to realize that I worked the center too tightly and need to increase my hook size as the outer portions are ruffling and I don't think blocking it will solve the pucker problem. I am within 3 rounds of finishing it and have made the startling choice to frog all that I have completed and start over. I will work it again but using a lighter color of thread, too.
I have also been enamored with hankie edgings and received the vintage book of Crinoline Lady in Crochet published by Coats and Clark from the 1940s. Times have changed. The materials used include size 70 thread in salmon pink. I've been trying to find modern thread in this color and size 70 is only availble in white or ecru. I have looked at eBay auctions for size 70 thread, thinking there might some vintage stuff to be had. No luck just yet. I may have to settle for size 50 or size 40. It's not a lot of thread that is required, since it is used to make the arms and face of the crinoline lady. I could probably fudge with the size 50, if I can find a suitable flesh tone.
The thought has occurred to me that I wish I had multiple sets of arms like a Hindu god or goddess as that way I could work on 3 projects at once! I'd also need a 4th set of arms to pet the cats. They always want to be loved while I am trying to crochet!
Pooky has gone golf-crazy, and he took me out to the driving range to see if I had any skill at hitting the ball. Sure, I could hit the ball, but not correctly hit the ball. I managed to get my forearms and unknown muscle parts achy and sore with all of my attempts to get the ball soaring.
My determination was not thwarted. Quite contrary, I am fired up to see if I can get the ball airborne and sailing to the little flag pole many yards down the fairway.
So on our travels into civilization we stopped at a golf shop and asked about ladies' left handed clubs. The clerk gave us an apologetic look and explained that many manufacturers don't make a ladies' left hand set because so few are sold. Usually when instructing someone how to golf the right hand is encouraged to be used. He asked if there was any possible way I could switch (as if I am secretly capable of that kind of thing and just faking it) and I said I bat left handed, and that my body won't go the other way.
I think it has to do with my eyes and aiming. When I finally do get the ball in the air I will then need to think about aiming that ball. My left eye would be facing out to the flag and my left eye doesn't work as sufficiently as my right. Not that there are vision issues, but brain processing issues. Thus, if I am to get good aim I need my right eye facing outward which means I would be left-handed. It makes perfect sense to me; the rest of the world doesn't agree.
It's apparent that I will probably need to buy a men's set of clubs. I am the same height as Pooky, and so by reason of transference, I should be able to use men's clubs. It will certainly open up more options to me when I want to buy a set of clubs.
Today I had my meeting with the Dean of Student Affairs. I had been directed to her by my faculty who said if I objected to her unilateral ruling regarding my absence during module, I was to take it up with the Dean.
The Dean was very helpful, she listened and I left feeling heard. She told me what process I will have to go through in order to appeal the decision.
By Friday I am to write up a letter of appeal stating what events happened, providing as much factual information as possible. Then in the same letter I can offer what I think would be an appropriate solution. Lastly, I can address my feelings regarding the decision that had been deemed, as well as affirm my commitment to the program.
My letter of appeal is submitted to the head-honcho of the LIOS program. He will review my letter of appeal as well as speak to the faculty (with the Dean present). He will then render a decision. His decision will be final for the most part. The only way I could appeal above his decision is if factual errors are discovered in how he renders his judgment.
I am feeling hopeful that the decision can be reversed or at least modified. Even if he agrees with the disciplinary action and I am to repeat Module 7 in October and then join the Winter track, I will feel heard through this process and that I've had my say and input into the matter.
I still need to secure an internship, and I have found the agency I'd love to do my training at, and by all the powers that I have, I shall do my best to submit an impressive application packet. The only clinker is I need 3 letters of recommendation. I just hope that my letters will sufficiently sing my praises. After the holiday I need to contact people ASAP for those letters, and have my transcripts sent. I'm to submit all transcripts of graduate level work. Well, I don't know if they really care to see I was a bio grad student for a year, and ND student for a quarter, and took a year's worth of web development classes (if I pay the $50 it would be a grad level certificate), but I shall comply.
Oh, and I get to write an essay explaining why I want the position and what my goals are. The usual type of flaming hoop they want you to jump through. If only I could just be blantanly honest and say, "I'd lke this position because out of all of the places I've been to, this place has it's act together and I really think that this is where I could train to become the type of therapist I see myself being."
At this site not only would I see clients, but I'd have the opportunity to facilitate groups and if there is an interest, I could even be the creator of a group! I'd love to get into that type of work because I could then hold weekend workshops and supplement my income. Seeing clients privately is something established over time, and before I'd have a full schedule, one way to make up for it is to have short-term intensive sessions with groups of people.
If you've ever looked into attending a self-improvement weekend workshop you then know how much they charge for two days! Even the nobody therapists charge a hefty amount. The famous ones charge into the thousands, not just the hundreds.
I think for awhile I would like to work at an agency and get real sick and tired of it, all the while slowly working toward a private practice. The reason being for working at an agency is to have a reliable income. I need that for a couple of reasons. One, pay down students loans, second, show that I have income so I can then apply for a business loan. Other reasons include that at an agency, you get a lot of good experiences. Also, while being at an agency, I can work toward my supervised hours for licensure. If I did it all on my own I'd have to pay for my hours to be supervised and it's freakin' unreal how expensive supervision costs!
My ultimate long-term goal is to get into a doctoral program. I may be in my 50s before I can arrange for it, but I'm patient. Everything happens all in good time.
Pooky has recently taken up golf. It was bound to happen as ever since I've known him he watches golf on TV. A friend of his plays and finally took him out to the local course. Then we went to the local thrift shopts to find Pooky used clubs. He's found what he's needed for about 99¢ per club at the Visiting Nurses shop. At the Goodwill he has paid about $1.99 per club. Not bad consider how much clubs can cost.
His friend hasn't been able to join him for another round, and so Pooky look toward me as being a golfing companion. While I am not golf crazy, I wouldn't object to learning how to play. Only I present a significant problem.
I am left-handed when it comes to swinging a club.
(Sound effect of needle scratching across a record) Hey, wait a minute! You're right-handed, aren't you?
Yes, I am. It's this funny thing about me. I bat a baseball left-handed. I golf left-handed.
I thought I was some kind of freakish oddity until one afternoon my dad stopped by to deliver some keys when he saw the clubs. I explained about Pooky taking up golf, and how my entry into the country club is deterred by the need for ladies left-handed clubs. Something not very likely to be found at a thrift shop.
Turns out, my dad plays some sports left-handed, too, despite being right-handed. My mom bowls left-handed despite being right-handed.
I resumed breathing with this insightful genetic understanding. I wasn't the freakish oddity I thought I was. Yet another item I can add to the list of things I can blame on my parents.
For the record, I crochet right-handed.
If Pooky is really interested in me being his golfing partner, the cheapest putter I could find for sale is $19.95. There are plenty of them priced $100 or more. Hmmm...I wonder if I couldn't try to golf right-handed? It just doesn't feel right. It's like my eyes and body won't work that way.
My theory is that this gene that makes me do certain things lefty also is responsible for my crazy cat lady in training tendency. As I've gotten reacquainted with the Carlson side of my family, plenty of crazy cat people perch on the branches of my family tree. I recently saw my aunt who told me my cousin (a male) had up to 15 cats at one time. Now that's my style!
I've experienced this all too often. I can stay at home all day, no phone calls for weddings. I go to the grocery store for an hour to come back and find someone has called about a wedding. No more than an hour has passed when I return their call. When I reach them I am informed that they have already found someone else!
Why bother leaving a message if you can't wait a reasonable amount of time?
Then there are those people who won't even leave a message. It causes me to wonder why have an answering machine.
So finding this article today that we are an impatient society rings very true with me. I feel less delusional and validated in my observations.
Impatience leads to frustration, frustration leads to anger, and anger leads to violence. Patience leads to peace, and peace leads to love. I wonder when people will realize that they have lost something very important in their lives: their sanity.
Imagine for a moment a culture that isn't driven by the clock. The tick-tick-tick of time never enters into your thoughts. Each moment is spent in the here and now. Time is viewed on a grander scale, by the seasons, by the phases of the moon, by sunrise and sunset and midday.
Such cultures tend to be agricultural and according to our perspective "primitive". I'm starting to think that those cultures that lack cell phones and set their clocks to Nature's time is where I really belong.
How much faster can we get before we self-implode? It wasn't that long ago I was a child. Think back to the 1980s before ubiquitious answering machines and even before call waiting. If you got a busy signal you tried calling again in a couple of hours. You had a sense of when was an appropriate time to call a person at home, something I think we've forgotten.
I'm not against technology, just how we've decided to use abuse it. But we're not noted for giving much consideration about how we are affected by technology and changing our behavior. We're too impatient to stop and reflect on it.
I got to my interview 30 minutes early. I read the latest issue of People magazine. If it weren't for waiting rooms I'd never read People magazine.
I think I cleared my head a little too tidy because one of the first things I was asked by my interviewer was to explain how my program has prepared me to be with clients. He wanted names of theorists, descriptions, and I'm sure something a lot more academic than I could muster to convey. It's not that I resorted to bullshitting my answer. I think he knew what my school and program is like because he seemed to familiar with LIOS. I described how we used genograms, look at the client in respect to their families and roles in their community. Family of origin and culture of origin are major themes that have been pounded into my tiny head.
I know in the upcoming year we will learn about 5 various treatment methods, I could only think of narrative therapy, solution-focused and something referred to as MRI (which I don't know what the MRI standards for), and I talked about how at a recent module we emphasized relationship triangles as they reflect systemic interactions and are used as leverage points. (Of course this is most likely boring you if you aren't into the whole counseling/therapist shtick.)
Funny thing about these sorts of interviews is that you walk away thinking how good it went, how bad it went, and that the interviewer is too damn good at masking their impression of you so you can't guess if you'll receive good news in three weeks regarding their decision.
Three weeks of waiting. I suppose I can manage to endure 21 odd days of not knowing—living in the mystery. Meanwhile, as much as I think I'd fit in at this agency, I shall keep making inquiries with others. Tonight I shall perform that séance where I channel Murray Bowen hoping that I won't have Sigmund Freud come through instead.
This morning this Murphy's Law on teaching came to mind:
If you are given an open-book exam, you will forget your book.
Corollary: If you are given a take home exam, you will forget where you live.
Corollary: If the test is online, you will forget your password.
I have no idea how this is relevant to today. I got for my umpteenth internship interview in a few hours. I'm trying not to let the ghosts of previous interviews and experiences accompany me. I am trying to find a shred of hope and encouragement still remaining in my body.
Let me see what the positives are regarding this particular agency. I know that many LIOS students have interned with various branches of the agency within the region, so I am hoping that the director is not flabberghasted by the enormous amount of internship hours I must log. I hope he is familiar with my program's requirements that I can video tape my client sessions. That I need 150 hours of direct, multi-body client contact. That I must be able to practice from a systems counseling perspective. And that on Wednesdays after 6pm I am allowed one royal fizzbin.
The negatives are that I am about to start my period. It is raining a thick, goopey type of rain. Maybe I am the one that fills thick and goopey because of my bloating and sensation of total body stickiness? I feel excessively ready for a nap and it is only 8:20 am. I am like Jacob Marley carrying with me the chains of all previous interviews, and do they ever weigh a lot! I hope I can devest of them along the freeway as I drive the hour to Tacoma.
Oh, and what else is on my mind? Well, when I went to apply for my supplemental student loan, turns out that my credit score dropped because of the recent charges I applied to my card. Those charges were the first I made since the holidays and they were made to book my hotel rooms for the make-up modules. Since my credit score dropped the loan was denied. I love the irony of it.
The obvious solution is to pay down my cards and hope to the highest of heavens my credit score will boost back up so that I can re-apply for the loan. I still have time. Only I hope it isn't like how they are quick to deduct money from your account but are so slow to issue a refund. It was literally a matter of days and my score dropped!
So the plans for a set of golf clubs for Pooky and a DVD-R for me will become true Christmas presents, and every spare dollar we can part with will go to VISA.
Thus, not only does school hinge upon me getting an internship, has a second hinge of being able to get that supplemental loan. The tuition at my school isn't covered by the governmental loan, and there are the expenses of the internship that I must cover (fuel, clothing, etc). I do hope that a third hinge doesn't manifest. At least not today—not when I am about to start my period.
I have to sit back and let the physics of probablities unfurl. I had an interview today at a local area high school in which I would like to do my internship. I spoke with one of the staff and he was nice, a friendly person with whom I could work. He must have felt the same as he said that on Monday he would present to his colleagues and the school's principle that I am a grad student seeking an internship. This would be the second step in the process of me securing the position. He must think it would be approved or why else spend the time with it? I dunno. I am trying not to get too anxious because well, the more anxious I'd get the more disappointed I'd be if this doesn't work out.
Yes, I would like for it very much to work out. (Shhh! Don't let that get out; the universe has ears and the forces of disappointment are always listening in, trying to thwart plans.)
I do have other pokers in the fire. I've sent a resume to Catholic Community Services, a general mental health agency in Olympia, and will need to follow-up with other e-mails I sent to different high schools.
If all else fails, I will channel the spirit of Sigmund Freud himself and see if he can't help me find an internship. Actually, I would rather channel Murray Bowen or Carl Rodgers. They are some of the systems counselors we have learned about.
I am going to speak as directly, honestly, and plainly as I know how. My intention is to let it be known where I am at in regard to my inner feelings. I think I have a need to do this because I am concerned that the motivation for my actions are not known and by making them known it may or may not bring understanding. I cannot control entirely how my message is received; I can only control how I deliver it.
I feel caught in the middle of a battle that I have witnessed and I think there has been an expectation from my friends to pick a side and demonstrate my loyalties to them by joining them in their disassociation with Crochetville. I have considered what course of action I wanted to take and the ramifications of my choice. It is my belief that because I chose to stay with Crochetville that I have been a disloyal friend, that I don't support them. I can see how this could be construed.
Above all, I must be loyal to myself. I don't always follow what my friends do. I believe that my friends and I are capable of weathering our differences. As for shows of loyalty, my concept of loyalty is remaining a friend to someone even if I don't agree with them or think they have behaved in a way that I would have acted. To summarize, loyalty to me is based upon remaining in relationship though we have differences, whereas I think loyalty in the eyes of some is based upon being in relationship because we have similarities.
It has been my experiences that those friendships based only on similarities are the weakest or most likely to end because eventually our differences are going to come out and create conflict. What is conflict but two people realizing that they aren't alike and that makes them feel uncomfortable and self-aware of their uniqueness?
I have been thinking about each person who has left Crochetville and my relationship with them. I have considered each of you in relationship to me, remembering what it was that I admired about you, what made me think of you as a fellow Shrone. My admiration and sense of Shronedom has not changed even though we choose to involve or not involve ourselves in certain communities.
In reflecting on what I've written, I can see that I am making my declaration of differentiation. (The things I am learning at school are seeping way too much into my psyche.) I think I am finally grasping differentiation. It is this: it says that you and I can be our unique, different selves and still be friends.
Speaking from my heart and not my head: I am saddened by what transpired and I feel bad about it. It is my hope that our respective friendships can be renewed and strengthened by this experience.
I want to solicit feedback: What are your thoughts/feelings? Where are you at?
I'm Not Automated Today
Thank goodness that I can schedule posts that way I've been able to take a much needed respite from blogging. I will have an enforced break over the weekend as I'll be away at Mini Module 4. It will be my first contact with the first year class that I will hopefully be joining in September.Internship Hopes
Yesterday I contacted a prospective internship and the person I spoke with was very positive and we clicked. I just hope that I will be selected. I'd be working with children and teens. I think my own experiences in childhood and adolescence will give me a good foundation in which to help others through their own version of growing-up hell.What was weird is I contacted one of my faculty for a letter of recommendation and he said that what he does is have the student write the letter and then he will use it as a basis for his own letter. What I read into that is: he just signs his name to whatever I will write about myself! Now, at first this sounded real easy to do, but the more I thought about it, what would I really want to say about my qualifications for the position? The phrase "dedicated feline maintenance worker" really doesn't apply!
Monday Memories Follow-Up
I was cooking something when I remembered that Mrs. Walker's first name was Catherine. So I checked out her vital stats on the Social Security Death Index and found out she was born in 1900 and died in 1986. She was about 77 years old at the time of my visit to her house.Special Contest on May 18th!
Mark your calendars because on May 18th there will be a special ONE DAY ONLY contest!I'll Take I Didn't Pass for $400, Alex
I took the approximately 10 minute long Jeopardy! contestant exam last night as planned. I found ti rather difficult to type in my answer in 15 seconds! Well, I left enough blank that I probably didn't qualify. I was asked 50 questions on 50 different categories. Some stuff was on the tip of my tongue and thought of it after the fact. Sheesh!I went into taking the quiz with a headache and rotten sulky attitude. I was pissed about the appointment with my potential Little Sister being canceled. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but it seemed like the meeting didn't have priority with the father. I don't know their situation, but it just struck me as odd about it being moved to next week.
Then I was boling up inside about the whole going to Module 7 issue, because I really just can't understand what happened with my former classmates, and I don't know if they will tell me what was going on for them at that time. But I also great fear that I've not been the best friend to those who are sick or in need, that I always feel I could be doing more for others, but feel greatly limited by my location, lack of available financial resources, so I don't make phone calls, don't send out little gifts, and really have no excuse about sending e-mails or e-cards other than to say I forget half of the things I set out to do in a day.
I also felt guilty for buying the thread without consulting Pooky first. Since the New Year we agreed not to buy anything without consultation, and I had lived up to that agreement until a moment of extreme need and weakness got the best of me.
Emotionally it was a star-crossed day.
The sun will come out...
Today is better. I killed the moss growing on the side walks with the power washer, sprayed a toxic amount of Weed-B-Gone on the grass and weed in the sidewalk cracks, and decided that I could trick myself into being relatively happy and not grumpy.I get silly at inappropriate times
Lastly, I amused myself in a very bad way. Often when a highly stressful and emotional situation comes up, like the recent incident at C'Ville about someone faking their death, my perverse sense of humor kicks in. I was thinking how it might be very humorous if we all posted our fake obits on our blogs for April Fools' Day. They would have to be written tongue-in-cheek and very Shrone and crochet related, possibly seasoned with cats or non-cat pets. Here's a sample:Lori Carlson, age 92, passed away in her home surrounded by 60 cats. It was determined that the cause of death was due to the fact that she had neglected to keep a supply of tuna and the cats plotted her demise by crocheting an elaborate trap in the style of Rube Goldberg and unleased it upon her early in the morning before she had her first cup of tea and was most oblivious to a network of strings and objects in her path. Surviving her are her 60 cats: Mr. Sperm, Percy Qualm, Buffy Moon, Sir Walter, Mr. Spooker, Lady Godiva, Wendell Barnes, Mary Picadilly, Uncle Stenchy, Olaf the Elder, Eleanor of the Windy Moors, Her Majesty, Dr. Ming, Lord Archibald, Shady Burbon.....
I did see the doctor and he gave me an antibiotic for the acne/rosacea problem. No creams, just germ fighters. I don't see much of a difference yet in the rosacea, but the acne seems improved. I weighed myself on the official doctor's scale and I'm back to 133#. That's about my pre-operative weight all the way back to May, so I know my body has adjusted in that particular sense. It was nice to wear my size 8 jeans for awhile, but now I'm back into the size 12s.
I meet with my potential Little Sister this afternoon. I hope it goes well. If we don't match I have no idea how long it will take them to find another girl. I was hoping by now that I'd have been doing things with my Little for a month already. Patience, patience, patience. The agency called to say that the dad needed to reschedule so it was moved to a week from today. I hope there won't be any further delays. Mmmmrrrr!
I registered to take the online Jeopardy! test! Even if I pass the exam there are two random drawings that my name is put into. One is to audition, then if you audition well you are put into the contestant pool for one year. Since I have the worst luck with random drawings, I don't have my hopes up.
Now, I've wanted to be on Jeopardy! since I was 13 years old (maybe it was 12). The closest I've come to being on Jeopardy! is being in the studio audience at the big 20th Anniversary Tournamnet of Champions held at Radio City Music Hall. Watching how the game is played is just awesome! The contestants snap out answers very quickly. During the commercial breaks Alex was hilarious! He is really a fun person.
Well, Pooky wants pancakes for breakfast. Lately we've been bartering Snake as a means to rekindle the almost dead embers of passion in our lives. The winter is a bitch for me and romantic moods, and Pooky seems to have been phased by the cold and darkness as well. With Spring erupting everywhere it is hard not to feel "in the mood". Thus we've been issuing each other Snake promises. The point isn't to keep them, but to pique interest. If this is too much information, so be it. I'm giving you the scoop on my life...but I'll refrain this time from discussing bag issues.
I can see the doctor on Monday morning, if I get to his office by 7:30 am. He sees walk-ins at that time so I think I can motivate myself to get in early and have him give his pronouncement. I was doing some research on rosacea and edema can accompany it, but there is evidence that it is caused by diet, bacteria, and probably sun spots and phases of the moon.
I've got a wedding to perform on Saturday and I feel ugly. Make-up can only disguise the redness and it can't hide the dead, dry skin. I'm crossing my fingers I won't continue to swell. I can't look at pictures of me from my youthful days in which my skin was virtually flawless. Yeah! growing older has its rewards.
Not to mention I am having my period so I feel like a slimeball.
About the best thing today has been Smee. He's my Sweet Smee. My darling Smee. My Smee-Baby-Smee. My Smee-Ami. We cuddle and fuzzy a lot together. He is always trying to clean me. He purrs so loudly he sounds like a machine. He'll follow me through the house when he wants his Smee Love. So I indulge him and we sit somewhere while he burrows into my chest. *Sigh* Kitty love is the best medicine there is!
I awoke this morning knowing that my rosacea had worsened, could feel it burning first thing, but then I felt something more—a heaviness around my right eye. I didn't look right away at the cause. The bathroom was filled with cats by their food dishes looking pitifully hungry, and my bag needed attention.
When I looked I about died! My face is all swollen, particularly around the eyes. I usually have a sunken eye appearance, but not today. I feel almost bruised.
Ever since my second surgery my complexion has gone to the dogs. I can't deny it any longer. I really need to see a dermatologist. Which means I'll first have to go back to my family doctor—an annoyance, but I think it is necessary, considering the rest of my face is pitted with acne.
Looks like I need to tame my eyebrows. I hate plucking them. I never have had to pluck them in my life until about a year ago. I blame hormones and nearing middle age. If I could, I'd have electrolysis to rid me of the unwanted hairs. Truth be told, my complexion has a lot of characteristics of being on steroids. I wonder if my adrenal glands are malfunctioning? All of those years of being on prednisone did screw up my body, despite what all of the doctors may claim.
Stash is obsessed with climbing on backs and shoulders. This has led me to formulate the theory he was a famous WWF wrestler in a previous incarnation. Here he demonstrates his near strangle-hold on Pooky. As you can see, Pooky is slumped over and nearly passed out from Stash's awesome grip.
Stash is so confident at neutralizing Pooky that he can afford to look away nonchalantly, as if something else is more intriguing and worthy of paying attention to.
It is apparent that Stash is a lethal weapon, a force to be reckoned with, and should not be left unsupervised in the presence of middle-aged men. He can and will hug them to death.
What feels like half a century ago I signed up to become a Big Sister through Big Brothers Big Sisters. After the screening process I was accepted (yeah!) and recently I was contacted finally with a potential match. I know very little about her, just her age (9 yo), she doesn't have her mom in her life, and her dad is disabled. The big interview/meeting day is March 30th when she gets out of school for the day. I was told she has a weight problem and is teased at school.
As much as I'd like to count my chickens before they are even laid as eggs, I have learned to keep a realistic outlook about such things that tend to make me very excited. In my heart of hearts I hope this is the Little I am to be paired with, and that we'll form a lifetime friendship, be in each others lives for quite awhile. Much will have to depend on if our personalities match.
An odd thing about myself that I have come to know is that I generally gravitate toward people with weight problems. I've never had skinny friends. The reason being is that a skinny person has no desire to explore the realm of culinary arts, nor do they care to eat, and to me food is one of the best things in life.
I have identified why I am fond of food. It is twofold. First, making food and sharing food with others is a way of bonding, of sharing sustenance and of giving love, affection, and that warm feeling inside. Second, I've had prolonged bouts of not being allowed to eat. The doctors called this "bowel rest". I think when the body is deliberately starved it triggers an instinct to want to eat, eat, eat to make up for lost calories. I do receive pleasure both from making food for others and in eating good food.
Which brings up a concern I have. How do I address in a positive, healthy way regarding the Little's weight problem? I know I will need to find out if she is eating poorly because her family situation is financially limited. Poorer people tend to eat poor quality foods, or have the resources for making a lot of homemade meals from scratch. She may also not have the resources for physical exercise. So much left unanswered at this time that I'd be making wild-ass assumptions. Best to wait and see.
Meanwhile...there is so much I long to share that I think I'll overwhelm her. I need to recall how I was at 9 yo. What did I think about, what was I interested in, and how did I view the world? There is so much I can show her, allow her to experience, and I think it all hinges on her willingness to be a co-explorer and co-experiencer with me.
I am in the process of upgrading MT to the latest version, so things are going wonky on my end as I adjust to the new system. They have revamped a lot of stuff, and my learning curve is slow. So if you see things, experience technical difficulties, and wonder what the hell is going on, just know that there are a few kinks to be ironed out.
Please return to having an ordinary day!
"Spotty" as I'll refer to him, is still alive! He continues to swim vertically and will occasionally lie down on the bottom of the tank and then he'll swim normally for awhile, then resume his vertical treading, and so on.
The night I found him on the bottom of the tank, I was prepared to find him floating the next morning. I do down and see nothing, so I assume that Pooky scoopped him, but then I saw him swimming normally and I thought for certain that either a benevolent or malevolent force had been at work! I'd like to think it was the former and not the latter. Anyhow, Spotty seems to have regained something in the way of goldfish normalcy.
He appears to be moving his bowels, and he eats. All of the other fish are fine. Perhaps the tank could use a water change, so I'll talk to Pooky about that. He has been very busy with school and work and so tank maintenance has been awhile. The tank water looks clear and there isn't a build-up of green on the walls, so I don't think the water is bad.
Maybe Spotty is swimming us a message like the dolphins in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?
I had my interview today at my local Big Brothers Big Sisters to sign up as a Big Sister, aka BIG, and if I pass their sceening committee, I'll be eventually paired with a Little. I requested a girl older than 10 and she must either like cats or animals in generally, because I won't stand for being mean or abusive to my felines or animals in general. I also said I'd not want someone who has a juvenile criminal record for stealing or for violence. While I do want to help kids/teens with their problems as a therapist, I don't want to deal with stealing or violence with someone who will be coming to my house and interacting with in meaningful ways.
I forgot to mention that I'd prefer not to be paired with a vegetarian, because questing for the perfect cheeseburger is an integral part of my existance! Just kidding! I have entertained numerous times in my life of going veggie, but between my gut not processing veggies or fruits (especially raw ones)and the fact that I love the taste of meat, my attempts and experiments to be vegetarian have never lasted very long.
Above all, I would take an active interest in my Little's diet and make sure she eats a well-balanced meal while in my company, even if that means tofu and Not-Dogs and not questing for the perfect cheeseburger with her.
I had to answer what my sexual orientation or preference is, and what my religious inclination is, so that potential parents can approve or disapprove of me. We all know that if I said Wiccan lesbian that I'd be trying to turn their daughter into a feminist! LOL! OK, perhaps that isn't a laughing matter, and I should be more respectful. Sorry. I know that life doesn't often reciprocate, meaning if a Wiccan lesbian were to say she didn't want a heterosexual Christian because she feared they would turn her daughter into a provincial conservative people would say that the Wiccan lesbian is intolerant. Similar things would go for the atheist, too. Anyone who isn't the status quo/majority is suspect. I commented that I'd like to be listed as "spiritual". If the parents care that much about my beliefs, they can ask specifically.
I'm going to say something now that could piss someone off, but here goes (so be warned!). I can understand that the organization is looking for people who aren't pedophiles, druggies, criminals, and have safe driving histories. After all, I will be trusted with the mentoring of a child. I get the feeling that some of the parents wouldn't be able to become a Big because they would fail in more than one area. As someone once said, they license you to drive a car, to even be able to cut and perm another person's hair, but no such thing to become a parent. I've heard the rigorous screening process they put adoptive parents through, yet no one screens people who go about it naturally. I think that is too much like having 8 hot dogs to a package and hot dog buns come in 12 packs: it doesn't make any logical sense, and to try to understand it only makes your head spin.
Well, as I digress further into dangerous waters, I'll wrap this up by stating I realize that there would be too many issues to debate about how to screen people for natural parenthood, and how would you keep them from procreating anyway without taking away their basic rights to procreate, etc? Many people grow up with dysfunctional parents and turn out to be functional, and so on and so on. Yet, I still think that I can pose the question of the seeming illogical nature to how the system works.
On a much more positive, less dangerous water note, I am looking forward to be paired. I've already got some "free and fun" activities to test and see if my Little will enjoy doing them. On the top of the list: worship the felines! Next on the list: swoon over the felines! Third on the list: Teach her to crochet and love yarn! Fourth: Kitty love! and so on...
The record for consecutive rainy days is 33. The weather people say we have a chance of tying or breaking the record.
When I went to look at the forecast on Weather.com, I noticed something odd. But I can understand how and why this happened. Day after day the person writing the forecast keeps typing rain. The monotony and tedium is enough to get to anyone.
