I know I really shouldn't care, but I do.
The chili pepper I had on ratemyprofessors.com is gone.
It was there, I swear, for nearly five years!
One out of my six raters thought I was hot.
I guess now I'm not.
Just like hotness itself, so does the chili pepper disappear with time
In the eyes of the twenty-somethings.
Oh, the eyes of the twenty-somethings.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
mall vertigo
AntsyPants and I just returned from the mall. The ridiculously swank and tony mall that actually calls itself a "plaza" because "mall" is too pedestrian. But it's a mall. And it made me physically ill--woozy, nauseated, and headachey--like all malls do. More so, actually. This mall makes me super-sick. It's the kind of mall where woman actually wear diamond tennis bracelets for "casual wear."
But we had to go there because AntsyPants has become a big fan of Lush. He didn't want to order any of his products online because, as the company warns, they could melt during delivery. And now that we're home, I'm happy with my half-pound purchase of this--which I will use ironically to wash of the ick I feel from paying big money for luxury items that come from swank and tony malls.
I know, I know. Lush is a socio-environmentally responsible company that resists corporate dogma, etc., etc., etc. But seriously, no one on this planet needs Lush products.
But we had to go there because AntsyPants has become a big fan of Lush. He didn't want to order any of his products online because, as the company warns, they could melt during delivery. And now that we're home, I'm happy with my half-pound purchase of this--which I will use ironically to wash of the ick I feel from paying big money for luxury items that come from swank and tony malls.
I know, I know. Lush is a socio-environmentally responsible company that resists corporate dogma, etc., etc., etc. But seriously, no one on this planet needs Lush products.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
take my shrinks. please.
Y'all remember my Topher-Grace-twin psychiatrist, Dr. Spanky, yes? And perhaps you remember that my therapist, Serenity (see bullet #4), began having "issues" with him a few months back? Well, the issues remain, as was made crystal clear to me during a meeting with (no-longer-exactly-the-best-name-perhaps) Serenity a couple of weeks ago. It went something like this:
[After 30 minutes into a rather and rare uneventful session, lucyrain is providing the details of her mother's upcoming visit. She's calm, feeling pretty good. Anticipates ending the session early, even.]
lucyrain: So, the airline ticket ended up being cheaper than I thought, which is good, cuz my mother would've been all, "I can't let you pay for my visit," even though she literally can't pay for her visit, not that she would admit that or anythi--
Serenity: lucyrain. Let me ask you something.
lucyrain: [A little startled by the interruption, but a little relieved as well. She had begun to bore even herself.] Okay.
[Serenity leans forward, elbows on knees, direct and unflinching eye contact with lucyrain. lucyrain's relief begins to turn into that "uh-oh" feeling. After a couple seconds, lucyrain tries to be little funny, if awkwardly so.]
lucyrain: I let you ask me something.
Serenity: [not having any of lucyrain's attempt at levity] What do you think about your sessions with Dr. Spanky?
lucyrain: Uh. I think they're good. I guess.
Serenity: You guess they're good?
lucyrain: Yeah. I guess.
Serenity: [Looks down, nods head.]
lucyrain: Why?
Serenity: Well, I've been going over his notes from your sessions with him and, to me, it really looks like he's doing therapy with you.
lucyrain: [pause] Huh. Really?
Serenity: Yes. And I'm really concerned about that. For you.
lucyrain: Oh. Wow. Really? Huh. . . . So, we shouldn't be doing what we do during our meetings?
Serenity: Well, he's your doctor, your physician. He prescribes you medication. I'm your therapist. It's not his job to talk to you about the stuff we talk about in here. His job is to talk to you about your medications.
lucyrain: Oh, right. Sure! I mean, we do talk about my meds--
Serenity: Along with all kinds of other stuff.
lucyrain: Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, he asks how I'm doing and I tell him. I'm not sure how to separate out the stuff that's going on in my life from how I'm doing on my meds . . . .
Serenity: But it seems to me that you're spending a lot of time on all of the non-medication stuff. I mean, he takes very. detailed. and analytical. notes.
lucyrain: Huh. Well, we are changing my meds right now, so--
Serenity: I know. I can see that. And I guess that's another thing I don't understand.
lucyrain: Changing the meds? Well . . . we decided to try something different because I don't seem to be benefiting the way I could or should, I guess, from the current meds, so--
Serenity: What I'm trying to say is that I don't understand why he's changing your meds now when his clinical rounds are ending.
[Quick reminder to the reader: lucyrain has been assigned a new psych every year because she obtains her services from a med school.]
lucyrain: Oh, well, because he said he's keeping me on. I guess the residents can choose to do that with a couple of their patients.
Serenity: Exactly. I have a lot of clients who are patients of Dr. Spanky and you're the only one he's keeping that I know of.
[By now, lucyrain is feeling extremely uncomfortable. Serenity, clearly able to discern this, changes her disposition. She no longer comes across as an imagined police interrogator--or better, every Catholic church figure who played a part in the moral education of lucyrain. She merely offers a suggestion to end the session.]
Serenity: Before your next appointment with Dr. Spanky, think about whether you want to continue on with me or do your therapy with him. I can't do meds with you, but obviously, he can do therapy with you, so I think you should consider working with just him.
*********
I met with Dr. Spanky a couple of days ago. Because Serenity told me I should talk with Dr. Spanky about what he and I should be doing during our sessions, I did. (Don't get me started on the fact that neither of these people have ever spoken a word to each other--I've asked--despite the fact that their offices are next door to each other.) He responded the way I knew he would. And then some.
Dr. Spanky: I don't believe in focusing solely on "meds management." In order to do the best job I can, I need to know what's going on in your life. Life factors impact reactions to medications as much as meds affect life factors.
lucyrain: I agree. And I don't think that your "doing therapy" with me is somehow a bad thing, it's just that Serenity thought it might be confusing for me to--
Dr. Spanky: Do you feel confused?
lucyrain: No. I think I benefit from both of you. I don't find your talk contradictory to hers, or overwhelming, or, whatever. I'm fine with the way things are.
Dr. Spanky: Good. Because I'm not going to be your pill monkey.
[After 30 minutes into a rather and rare uneventful session, lucyrain is providing the details of her mother's upcoming visit. She's calm, feeling pretty good. Anticipates ending the session early, even.]
lucyrain: So, the airline ticket ended up being cheaper than I thought, which is good, cuz my mother would've been all, "I can't let you pay for my visit," even though she literally can't pay for her visit, not that she would admit that or anythi--
Serenity: lucyrain. Let me ask you something.
lucyrain: [A little startled by the interruption, but a little relieved as well. She had begun to bore even herself.] Okay.
[Serenity leans forward, elbows on knees, direct and unflinching eye contact with lucyrain. lucyrain's relief begins to turn into that "uh-oh" feeling. After a couple seconds, lucyrain tries to be little funny, if awkwardly so.]
lucyrain: I let you ask me something.
Serenity: [not having any of lucyrain's attempt at levity] What do you think about your sessions with Dr. Spanky?
lucyrain: Uh. I think they're good. I guess.
Serenity: You guess they're good?
lucyrain: Yeah. I guess.
Serenity: [Looks down, nods head.]
lucyrain: Why?
Serenity: Well, I've been going over his notes from your sessions with him and, to me, it really looks like he's doing therapy with you.
lucyrain: [pause] Huh. Really?
Serenity: Yes. And I'm really concerned about that. For you.
lucyrain: Oh. Wow. Really? Huh. . . . So, we shouldn't be doing what we do during our meetings?
Serenity: Well, he's your doctor, your physician. He prescribes you medication. I'm your therapist. It's not his job to talk to you about the stuff we talk about in here. His job is to talk to you about your medications.
lucyrain: Oh, right. Sure! I mean, we do talk about my meds--
Serenity: Along with all kinds of other stuff.
lucyrain: Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, he asks how I'm doing and I tell him. I'm not sure how to separate out the stuff that's going on in my life from how I'm doing on my meds . . . .
Serenity: But it seems to me that you're spending a lot of time on all of the non-medication stuff. I mean, he takes very. detailed. and analytical. notes.
lucyrain: Huh. Well, we are changing my meds right now, so--
Serenity: I know. I can see that. And I guess that's another thing I don't understand.
lucyrain: Changing the meds? Well . . . we decided to try something different because I don't seem to be benefiting the way I could or should, I guess, from the current meds, so--
Serenity: What I'm trying to say is that I don't understand why he's changing your meds now when his clinical rounds are ending.
[Quick reminder to the reader: lucyrain has been assigned a new psych every year because she obtains her services from a med school.]
lucyrain: Oh, well, because he said he's keeping me on. I guess the residents can choose to do that with a couple of their patients.
Serenity: Exactly. I have a lot of clients who are patients of Dr. Spanky and you're the only one he's keeping that I know of.
[By now, lucyrain is feeling extremely uncomfortable. Serenity, clearly able to discern this, changes her disposition. She no longer comes across as an imagined police interrogator--or better, every Catholic church figure who played a part in the moral education of lucyrain. She merely offers a suggestion to end the session.]
Serenity: Before your next appointment with Dr. Spanky, think about whether you want to continue on with me or do your therapy with him. I can't do meds with you, but obviously, he can do therapy with you, so I think you should consider working with just him.
*********
I met with Dr. Spanky a couple of days ago. Because Serenity told me I should talk with Dr. Spanky about what he and I should be doing during our sessions, I did. (Don't get me started on the fact that neither of these people have ever spoken a word to each other--I've asked--despite the fact that their offices are next door to each other.) He responded the way I knew he would. And then some.
Dr. Spanky: I don't believe in focusing solely on "meds management." In order to do the best job I can, I need to know what's going on in your life. Life factors impact reactions to medications as much as meds affect life factors.
lucyrain: I agree. And I don't think that your "doing therapy" with me is somehow a bad thing, it's just that Serenity thought it might be confusing for me to--
Dr. Spanky: Do you feel confused?
lucyrain: No. I think I benefit from both of you. I don't find your talk contradictory to hers, or overwhelming, or, whatever. I'm fine with the way things are.
Dr. Spanky: Good. Because I'm not going to be your pill monkey.
Monday, July 16, 2007
. . . the kindness of not-so-strangers
Receiving accolades during this production-dry and climate-sweaty summer is more than I could've hoped for, but kind words have been given and expressed gratitude is required. Thank you, dear Mags, Medusa, and lil'rumpus, for this honor you've bestowed upon me.
Being named a "Rockin' Girl Blogger" has tickled my troubled spirits. Please do know that, if I had been better attentive to our community these past few weeks, I would've done the same for you.
Now. my nominees. I'll list them in the order I found them. (I don't think any of them have been nominated yet, and there are others deserving of the award, but of all this I can't be certain. I've been away too long and oveer a thousand posts awaiting me on Bloglines.)
1. PowerProf. I've been reading her since before I started my own blog. She's inspired me, frightened me, delighted me, and taught me. Taught me, perhaps most of all, that one can do more than merely survive; one can thrive. I pray to possesses her degree of persistence.
2. Cheeky Prof. Unlike Cheeks, I'm not Slovak by blood, but I am by rearing. So, my Slovak Sister she is! But if you're not Slovak, you'll love her for her strength and hilarity as she gives way better than she takes in this ironically shit-for-brains world we call Academe.
3. shrinkykitten. I can't sew, find bargains, or eat with the health of my innards in mind; but shrinks makes me want to. She also makes me confront the myriad and insidious ways that women get the shaft. More important, she inspires me with her survival skills. She's crafty in all the best senses of the word.
4. Chaser. A Renaissance Woman among us! Paintings, sculpture, literature, film, philosophy, socioeconomicgenderracialreligious issues, you name it! Chaser has meaty things to say about it all. Read her with the appetite she deserves. Chew on her thoughts, savor what she shares, and burp with gratitude so you can consume some more.
5. Neophyte. A young aspiring academic so reflexive, so insightful--so outsightful--you'll find yourself saying, "'Neophyte' my ass!" I often find myself reluctant to respond to her posts because I can't help but think that anything I have to say would be so, like, obvious and trite and stuff to this mighty mouse. I hope she knows somewhere inside herself how precious she is.
So, there they are. My nominations. I have not idea if any of these folks read (or are still reading) me. But if they are, I say, "Rock on you rockin' girls." And to the rest of ya, read these lovelies. They're worth it.
Being named a "Rockin' Girl Blogger" has tickled my troubled spirits. Please do know that, if I had been better attentive to our community these past few weeks, I would've done the same for you.
Now. my nominees. I'll list them in the order I found them. (I don't think any of them have been nominated yet, and there are others deserving of the award, but of all this I can't be certain. I've been away too long and oveer a thousand posts awaiting me on Bloglines.)
1. PowerProf. I've been reading her since before I started my own blog. She's inspired me, frightened me, delighted me, and taught me. Taught me, perhaps most of all, that one can do more than merely survive; one can thrive. I pray to possesses her degree of persistence.
2. Cheeky Prof. Unlike Cheeks, I'm not Slovak by blood, but I am by rearing. So, my Slovak Sister she is! But if you're not Slovak, you'll love her for her strength and hilarity as she gives way better than she takes in this ironically shit-for-brains world we call Academe.
3. shrinkykitten. I can't sew, find bargains, or eat with the health of my innards in mind; but shrinks makes me want to. She also makes me confront the myriad and insidious ways that women get the shaft. More important, she inspires me with her survival skills. She's crafty in all the best senses of the word.
4. Chaser. A Renaissance Woman among us! Paintings, sculpture, literature, film, philosophy, socioeconomicgenderracialreligious issues, you name it! Chaser has meaty things to say about it all. Read her with the appetite she deserves. Chew on her thoughts, savor what she shares, and burp with gratitude so you can consume some more.
5. Neophyte. A young aspiring academic so reflexive, so insightful--so outsightful--you'll find yourself saying, "'Neophyte' my ass!" I often find myself reluctant to respond to her posts because I can't help but think that anything I have to say would be so, like, obvious and trite and stuff to this mighty mouse. I hope she knows somewhere inside herself how precious she is.
So, there they are. My nominations. I have not idea if any of these folks read (or are still reading) me. But if they are, I say, "Rock on you rockin' girls." And to the rest of ya, read these lovelies. They're worth it.
i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry
For not keeping up with all of you.
For not keeping track of myself.
For being behind in everything.
I'll write a substantive post soon. I promise. In the meantime, here's a peek at my psyche. Draw conclusions at will.
For not keeping track of myself.
For being behind in everything.
I'll write a substantive post soon. I promise. In the meantime, here's a peek at my psyche. Draw conclusions at will.
Your Score: Pollyanna- INFP
33% Extraversion, 53% Intuition, 26% Thinking, 20% Judging
So, you want to make the world a better place? Too bad it's never gonna happen.
Of all the types, you have to be one of the hardest to find fault in. You have a selfless and caring nature. You're a good listener and someone who wants to avoid conflict. You genuinely desire to do good.
Of course, these all add up to an incredibly overpowered conscience which makes you feel guilty and responsible when anything goes wrong. Of course, it MUST be your fault EVERYTIME.
Though you're constantly on a mission to find the truth, you have no use for hard facts and logic, which is a source of great confusion for those of us with brains. Despite this, in a losing argument, you're not above spouting off inaccurate fact after fact in an effort to protect your precious values.
You're most probably a perfectionist, which in this case, is a bad thing. Any group work is destined to fail because of your incredibly high standards.
Disregard what I said before. You're just easy to find fault in as everyone else!
Luckily, you're generally very hard on yourself, meaning I don't need to waste my precious time insulting you. Instead, just find all your own faults and insult yourself.
*****************
If you want to learn more about your personality type in a slightly less negative way, check out this.
*****************
The other personality types are as follows...
Loner - Introverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving
Pushover - Introverted Sensing Feeling Judging
Criminal - Introverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving
Borefest - Introverted Sensing Thinking Judging
Freak - Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging
Loser - Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving
Crackpot - Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging
Clown - Extraverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving
Sap - Extraverted Sensing Feeling Judging
Commander - Extraverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving
Do Gooder - Extraverted Sensing Thinking Judging
Scumbag - Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving
Busybody - Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging
Prick - Extraverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving
Dictator - Extraverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging
| Link: The Brutally Honest Personality Test written by UltimateMaster on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test |
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
the fourth of july . . .
. . . sounds like Baghdad.
People who set off fireworks--that means, you, nearly everyone in my city--make me fucking sick. Neighbor to the north? You and your twenty guests can rot in the devil's cock with your illegal ignitions and maniacal laughter.
Neighbors to the south, west, and east? I hope you someday suffer all the terrors you've induced in our soldiers who've returned home and feel a sense of impending death with every bang of your $3.50 bomb.
Close your eyes. Listen to the explosions. Be grateful to whom- or whatever that that noise isn't the soundtrack of your life. Imagine hitting the deck with every bang or signaling whistle. Try to feel the shit in your pants when the joyous boom bangs a little too close to home.
People who set off fireworks--that means, you, nearly everyone in my city--make me fucking sick. Neighbor to the north? You and your twenty guests can rot in the devil's cock with your illegal ignitions and maniacal laughter.
Neighbors to the south, west, and east? I hope you someday suffer all the terrors you've induced in our soldiers who've returned home and feel a sense of impending death with every bang of your $3.50 bomb.
Close your eyes. Listen to the explosions. Be grateful to whom- or whatever that that noise isn't the soundtrack of your life. Imagine hitting the deck with every bang or signaling whistle. Try to feel the shit in your pants when the joyous boom bangs a little too close to home.
the fourth of july . . .
. . . sounds like Baghdad.
People who set off fireworks--that means, you, nearly everyone in my city--make me fucking sick. Neighbor to the north? You and your twenty guests can rot in the devil's cock with your illegal ignitions and maniacal laughter.
Neighbors to the south, west, and east? I hope you someday suffer all the terrors you've induced in our soldiers who've returned home and feel a sense of impending death with every bang of your $3.50 bomb.
Close your eyes. Listen to the explosions. Be grateful to whom- or whatever that that noise isn't the soundtrack of your life. Imagine hitting the deck with every bang or signaling whistle. Try to feel the shit in your pants when the joyous boom bangs a little too close to home.
People who set off fireworks--that means, you, nearly everyone in my city--make me fucking sick. Neighbor to the north? You and your twenty guests can rot in the devil's cock with your illegal ignitions and maniacal laughter.
Neighbors to the south, west, and east? I hope you someday suffer all the terrors you've induced in our soldiers who've returned home and feel a sense of impending death with every bang of your $3.50 bomb.
Close your eyes. Listen to the explosions. Be grateful to whom- or whatever that that noise isn't the soundtrack of your life. Imagine hitting the deck with every bang or signaling whistle. Try to feel the shit in your pants when the joyous boom bangs a little too close to home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)