A Request

I need all readers to hold good thoughts for me today, as I just sent off my (hopefully non-sucky) resume and cover letter to two agencies which I am REALLY interested in working with.


It's Confirmed, I'm a Bonehead

Picture this: I'm in my large clinical meeting. There are about 15 therapists and 7 interns/externs gathered around the conference table. We are discussing the bathroom which is located directly outside the counseling center, and how disgustingly unclean this bathroom is. For some reason, I decide to contribute to the conversation. My input?

'I think the students use that bathroom as a poop room.'

Yup. I said poop. At work.


I'm in work clothes, being the professional that I am. Students are shuffling by my office in flip-flops and shorts.

I want to go hang out on the quad and be 18 again.


I Need Mittens

Can someone please tell me why it is always so fucking cold in the school computer lab? My hands are purple right now.

If you can't tell, I'm extremely cranky due to unpleasant dreams/restless sleep last night, resume revisions and a looming job search.



I just took a walk across the campus where I intern three days per week. There was a group of children from the campus day care center playing on the quad. Reportedly, Sarah Jessica Parker's son attends day care here. As I walked by, I found myself scrutinizing the children, looking for a child who is a cross between Carrie Bradshaw and Ferris Bueller.

And then stopped looking, because that's slightly creepy.


I'm Still Fun...Right?

So, last night, after a very long day at work, and an even longer training session for SAVI after work, I met up with JP for drinks. (Actually, he insists that I heretofore refer to going out for drinks with quotation marks - air quotes if I am speaking about it - because I am no longer drinking alcohol.). Ok, so last night I met up with JP for "drinks".

JP is having romantic issues. JP is always having romantic issues. I am the frequent audience for discussion of his romantic issues. While he usually finds himself in similar situations (drama, emotional unavailability), he always has hope. No matter how many times love has kicked him in the ass, he keeps trying. He is straightforward and honest about what he is feeling even when there are no guarentees that his feelings will be returned. I think that expression is an incredibly strong and beautiful choice.

On the other hand, I hate seeing him so sad and worried and in pain.

I sat and listened and counseled and resisted the urge to slap him upside the head, and then we eventually started laughing at ourselves and each other and the atmosphere got lighter. I believe the turning point was when he openly mocked me for referring to certain relationships as 'organic'. When we stopped giggling about what a pretentious asshole I can be, he said that he misses being silly with me. And this led into a discussion of exactly why I've had a decided lack of silliness lately. And then we both thought about driving down to Philadelphia last night to go out with some of JP's clients (which was dismissed as impractical).

So, me being me, I went home and quite deliberately considered how fun I am. And me being even more me, I'm still thinking about it today (obsessing might be a better word). Am I too serious now? If so, where is this coming from? Is this a permanent condition?

I might have to go out and do something deliberately wacky tonight. But it seems that planning for craziness is just another indicator of the severity of my predicament.



I feel great today. Maybe it's the first glimpse of Spring weather, that I actually got up his morning and went running, that I've lost four pounds or that my psychotherapy group is starting next week and will have participants.

Or maybe I'm thinking about last night: sushi, walking together without feeling cold, our hands almost touching, warm gooey chocolate cake, talking, talking, talking and a very sweet first kiss by the 86th Street subway stop.

Cancel the great - I feel amazing today.


It's All Too Real

I just bought my graduation gown, cap and tassle - all in a lovely shade of light blue, thank you very much. I also checked the posted list of master's candidates, and I'm on it.

I guess this means I'm really done soon. Which is funny, because I feel like the master of absolutely nothing right now.

Also, since I was forced to buy the graduation regalia, it's mine forever. I think I'm just going to start hanging out in my cap and gown all the time. Tempting, no?



Reason #592 to be happy about my current sobriety: The Walking Wounded

As I was walking up 9th Avenue from Port Authority (returning from a day in The Jerz with The Peanut) on Friday, I ran into many St. Patrick's Day celebrants. Of note was a woman whose face was covered with shamrock stickers, who had multiple green balloons tied to her wrist, and was so intent on devouring a slice of pizza that she walked right into me. I moved out of her way, but not before she roared ' HAPPY SAINT PATRICK'S DAY, MORON!' . When I looked back 1/2 a block later, she was vomiting on the sidewalk.

My friend JP wants to have a reverse intervention to encourage me to start drinking again. Based on the above, I'm not sure that's a good idea...


Theater of the Absurd

At dinner last night, The Lawyer and I had a protracted discussion about romantic relationships, which somehow veered into past romantic relationships, then deteriorated into a lot of emphatic gesturing with chopsticks (which was strange since we were at an Italian restaurant). Somehow we got the conversation back on the right course (absurdity) and we developed a list of the ridiculous things that boys/men have said to me.

High School Boyfriend: 'Next year, you'll come back from Syracuse and we'll go to my Junior prom.' (he was two years younger than me).
Big Fat Baby Crier: 'BFBC was the boy that no-one wanted to play with.' (habit of refering to himself in the third person).
Mini: 'ridiculous, you're looking a little thick' (said while we were getting dressed to go out for Valentine's Day).
The Jammer: 'You've got me harder than Chinese algebra.' (no commentary possible here).
The Pledge Master: 'I promised my best friend I'd take her to my formal months ago, but I still want you to go, so I'll get one of my pledges to take you.' (best friend = girlfriend).

I'll be out tonight in Hell's Kitchen, looking to collect more lines...



I've been doing...absolutely nothing on my Spring Break. It's now 4:42 on Thursday and this is the first I've left my apartment in about 48 hours.

I've been thinking a lot about fate, circumstance, and destiny. How much do we control what happens in our lives, and how much of it is determined for us? At what point do you look at the events in your life and decide that they're part of a bigger lesson, or just throw your hands in the air and decide that it's pointless to look for meaning?

On the not-such-a-big-deal-but-still-weird front:

1) While on my way to the movies, I saw/pretended not to see The Jammer, randomly walking down my street.

2) DM and I met at Harrison's to watch Syracuse beat Georgetown (!) which turned out to be the same place in which R and his brother were meeting with friends before the Allman Brothers concert (btw., I've defined my personal version of hell, which involves an endless Allman Brothers jam session).

3) My friend Megan joined a book club and met one of my sorority sisters whom I have probably not spoken with since graduation.

I don't have answers to what all this means, but I think I should probably continue hiding out in my apartment until it becomes clear.

Edited to add: my horoscope from today...

There are many metaphysical books on the market now that tout the validity
of coincidence, or, more accurately, of the fact that there really is no such
thing as a coincidence, only a series of symbolic events that we're occasionally
smart enough to notice. When you notice just such a pattern occurring now, don't
question your sanity. You're absolutely right. Once you notice, you'll have the
answer to that pressing question you've been asking yourself.


Holy Shit!

(Do you think I can stop using exclamation points in my post titles? Maybe not.)

Syracuse just upset #1 ranked UConn in the Big East tournament!!!! If I didn't think that I'd jinx my team, I'd try to get tickets for tomorrow night's game...


PS: Is it pathetic that I am crying with happiness right now?


Please note, even at my worst bedbug infestation, my back never looked like this.

This is from Yahoo! photos. It is the woman who has filed a $20 million dollar lawsuit against an upstate NY resort for emotional and physical damage.

Story here.



I know that the learning matters more than the grade, but my stress just increased tenfold because I got a B+ on one of my midterms.

Breathe. Breathe.


I've been so tense lately that I find myself clenching my hands tightly even when I am in non-stressful situations, like when I am going to bed at night. My natural facial expression has become a grimace.

What am I worrying about? Well, there's the whole graduating in 58 days thing; the need to register, study and take the licensing exam; complete my coursework; continue to provide candy and emotional support to my clients at the internship; and craft a kick-ass resume.

There's also all the phone calls I need to return and the thank-you notes I need to send.

It wouldn't be bad if I could also find time to do my laundry, go grocery shopping, organize and clean my apartment, replace my watch battery, obtain DSL service so I can stop intermittently stealing internet, retrieve a few essential items from storage, and cook a batch of chili to freeze for quick/inexpensive lunches.

Oh, and I need to find a job.

Since I've halted my usual coping mechanisms (smoking, drinking) I've found these to be a somewhat acceptable substitute.



I got nothing but haiku lately...it seems that school midterms and sapping all of my creative energy.

Perhaps next week's Spring Break will restore some balance.


Bus Haiku

tap on the shoulder
guy behind me is chatty
thank god for ipod


Subway Haiku

today on the 1
woman openly picked nose
i tried not to watch


Theme Song!

During J & C's post-game party this past weekend in DC, we spent a considerable amount of time discussing two very important questions. My faithful blog readers might remember that I posted these very same questions a few months ago.

If you ever write an autobiography, what will the title be?

If you had to choose a theme song, which would play every time you made an entrance somewhere, what would it be?

As the party continued, there were variations on the autobiography (all entries must have colons, a la Lifetime Network, making my title "It Seemed To Be A Good Idea At The Time: The ridiculouschick Story") and the theme song (choose between 'Love Will Keep Us Together' by Captain and Tenille or 'Hello' by Lionel Richie).

I am pleased to announce that this morning, while browsing through my iTunes in an attempt to glean inspiration for writing my final project proposal for Social Work with Battered Women (and btw., while I was in the library last night, I proved that I am the World's Biggest Dork when I did a not-entirely-silent fist pump in celebration of finding the perfect journal source for my final project), I finalized my theme song choice.

It is 'Eggman' by the Beastie Boys...if only for the joy of this line: "drive by eggings plaguing L.A." Pure silliness.