Birthday!

Yesterday was my birthday. I started the evening at Lisa's house because the the little boy she takes care of wanted to give me a card he made. (insert sounds of heart melting here). Then, I went to Buca di Beppo with some close friends and we had a raucous time.

rau*cous, adj.
Boisterous and disorderly

After that, some of us went to see The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which was surprisingly good! I put some photos of the evening up HERE.

The Philosophy of Being Five

Today, I was conversing with one of my young friends. He is five and full of questions. He asked me if the character Plumpy in Candyland was real. "No," I answered, "he's a cartoon. Cartoons aren't real."

My little friend furrowed his brow, deep in though for a moment, before asking, "Is the news real?"

Excellent question. How do you answer that question to a five year old? I prefer the 'where do babies come from' question, personally.

Favorite Times #2

Another one of my favorite times takes place during the summer. I remember this time from when I was a kid, but I still get it once in a while, even now. (Although, now it only happens at the end of those uncharacteristically hot San Francisco summer days).

I love that time in the evening, when I've spent the whole day outside in the sun, and now it's time to head home. I smell like sunscreen and dust. My hair is tangled and full of the dirt of the day, and it's dried all clumpy from whatever water I was playing in earlier. My skin feels all gritty and warm, and I glow all the way home and into my shower (when I was a kid, it was the bath).

Once I'm clean and in my jammies, I put together a snack and sit down to watch a little TV before bed. No matter what I'm watching, I can always hear the Minnie Pearl of my childhood... Howdyyyyyyy!. My mom was a huge Hee-Haw fan back in those days.

After a half hour or so of that, I brush my teeth and climb between my newly washed sheets. I can smell the fresh summer night air that's coming in my open window mix with the super clean smell of fabric softener. I read until my eyes will no longer stay open... knowing that it's summer and there is no school tomorrow.

Ah... a peaceful cocoon of childhood safety is woven around me, and I drift contentedly off to sleep.
(This complete bliss is only slightly tainted by the knowledge that I'm not longer a kid, and I still have to get up for work.)

Better Nice Jorb!

Well, scratch my recent post about my new job in Concord, CA. While I was in the interview for that job, another agency, which is based in San Francisco, called me for an interview. Two days later, I was sitting in that clinic, interviewing for an MFT intern's dream job.

The interviewer really liked me. He said he was inclined to hire me on the spot, but needed to discuss with the clinical supervisor... so he went and interrupted her meeting in order to get her to talk to me before I left that day. They agreed that I was a good candidate. Today he called and gave me a formal offer. The paperwork is with Human Resources, and I'm on my way to get fingerprinted.

This job is working with non-traditional families. I'll be the family therapist for children who are living with members of their extended family because of absent parents (due to drugs, jail, or other issues). The agency and I share the same theories about psychotherapy. They're well-established with a good reputation in the Bay Area.

I am so totally stoked. Hooray!

Favorite Times #1

One of my favorite times is at the very end of a party... when most of the people have gone home. It's been several hours since the food was all laid out prettily for the company, and all of the party-goers stuffed their gullets. Everyone has spent the time in between then and now just sitting, talking, laughing with one another. Couples and friends have been filtering out slowly until there are only a few tried and true friends left to help with the clean up.

Then, the hosts go to the refrigerator and pull out the leftover party food. Everything is laid back out on the table in a much more haphazard fashion this time. Nothing is pretty and everything is in plastic baggies or tupperware... and the hosts expect that the people who are still around will know exactly where to find their own plates and utensils.

When I am still at this part of the party, I know how well I am loved.

What's In A Name?

A name can be a very deceiving thing. For example, if you had been living in a cave for the last 40 years and didn't know current pop culture, which one of these men would you think is Lenny Kravitz? Make sure you say it a few times before you decided. Lenny Kravitz. Kravitz. Kraaaaavitz.

This guy?


Or this one?


Useless side note: I have such a crush on Lenny Kravitz. I can't help it. According to mass media he's an unfaithful womanizer. But, I figure since the odds of Lenny wanting to date me are low... I can harbor my secret crush and come away unscathed.

Now, Bono...

Well, that's a different story. I have to be careful with that crush. You never know...

Nice Jorb

I got a job today! Oh yeah! Who's the man?! Well... not me, but you know what I mean.

It's in the northern part of the east bay area... about a 45 minute commute from here. But, when you live in a lovely, temperate city, with a view of the Golden Gate bridge from the hill near your house, in a rent controled apartment in a mostly safe neighborhood with dogs and children frolicking about in the nearby park... it's hard to trade that in for a dusty, overheated strip mall suburb.

Anyway, I'll be a case manager/therapist for Latino families in the area. These families are referred to the county by Child Protective Services (CPS). They're the families who are on the edge of having their children taken away by the state and placed into foster homes, but CPS thinks they can do better. So I step in to help them navigate The System which is the United States government. I also therapize them.

This place actually wants to pay me to get licensure hours. Of course, it's almost the exact same amount of money that I was making as a copy-monkey at my last job, but at least I got to spend upwards of $40K to get an advanced degree to allow me to make the same thing I was already making!

Seriously though... this is so cool. I'm finally going to do something that means something to me. And people will believe me when I tell them I know how to handle a situation... instead of berating me and treating me like some sort of second-class administrative citizen. I'm no one's lackey! And, once I have my MFT license... I could live in Marin and charge people ridiculous amounts of money to therapize them (the going rate there is something like $300/hour).

I wouldn't do that... but I could.

Map-tastic!

I love maps. I can't get enough of them. I'm a National Geographic fold out junkie. This is why I was so excited that my friend, Cianna, put a type of map I've never seen on her blog. It's a Build Your Own Visited Countries map. Ooooooo!

Here's mine.

Wow... I have got to get on that travel wagon and get out into the world more!

They also have a Build Your Own Visited States map. My state map has some more coverage... mostly due to my Lower-Middle Class Car Vacation childhood.

Here's my state map.

How did I miss Kansas? Roadtrip!

Catholicity

I get this daily email called Wordsmith. Generally, the words are edifying and unusual. Today's word makes me frown and scratch my head, however.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
catholicity (kath-uh-LIS-i-tee) adjective
1. Wide-ranging; universality.
2. Broad-mindedness; inclusiveness.
[From Latin catholicus, from Greek katholikos (general),
from kata (according to, by) + holou (whole).]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Forgive me for saying so, but it strikes me as odd that a word, which looks and sounds so much like Catholic, actually means universality and broad-minded inclusiveness.

What a Gas

I just went with a friend to see the Paul Taylor Dance Company perform. It was a great modern dance show, and I would recommend it. But during the performance, the weirdest thing kept happening. It started when we first sat down and began chatting before the show. Suddenly, my chair vibrated a little. I checked my phone. Nope. Huh. I pondered momentarily and quickly forgot about it.

During the first act, I noticed it again. What the heck? I looked around. Friend to my right. Big guy filling up the whole chair to my left. No one else seemed to have noticed it. It happened repeatedly, but I had no clue as to what might be causing it. Having no other choice, I ignored it the best I could manage.

During the second act, I noticed the big guy on my left shifted a little in his seat each time my seat vibrated. What was that all about?

Then, I smelled it.

No kidding. He was farting all the way through the performance. He'd lean a little to his left and let one rip... causing my seat to vibrate from the force of his intestinal gas. I was dumbfounded.

Manners, people. Manners.

Moving On

Well, holy crap. My childhood home is for sale. See the internet search page about it here.

Marketing Mayhem

They have got to be kidding...

Darth Tater as seen on the Starwars collecting website

Consumption Junction

What's your function?

As I mentioned previously, I spent the weekend in the L.A. area visiting some friends. As I strolled down the shopper-filled streets of Santa Monica watching the consumers with their bags full of goodies sipping lattes and chatting in their three-hundred dollar shoes, something occurred to me... and suddenly, we Americans all seemed just a little absurd in my eyes.

I thought about the people I know who pick the beans that go into those lattes, and who harvest the cocoa beans for the high-priced chocolate desserts we purchase to go with our fluffy coffee drinks.

Cocoa Plant

They were my neighbors for two years while I was in the Dominican Republic. I got to know their pace of life, their culture, and their families. I know they sometimes don't have all of their teeth, but they alway seem to have big hearts to make up for it.

"Chapaleta" of the Savana

They live short, difficult lives. They work from sunrise to sunset just to feed their families. And they age prematurely.

A Dominican at Work

Due to lack of birth control options, they often have many children to feed and clothe.

Chaca and Friends

And they all live here...

Dominican House

And yet, I never once heard anyone complain about it. So much laughter and joy is mixed in with the hardship, that no one seems to mind the work. They are so aware of humanity and hold so much empathy for one another. It makes me rethink the way I do things, and the way I think about my problems, which are truly small in relative terms.

I do not have Noble Savage Syndrome; however, I do recognize that if you step back just a little bit from the things we see as standard and everyday, you can see a bright, colorful world and a whole new way to be in it.


Reyna and Nino Laughing

City of Angels

I went on a roadtrip to Los Angeles in my conBertible last weekend. Lisa and I visited Cianna and Doug. We drove down 101 along the coast. It took 9.5 hours to get there, but it was worth it! We had lunch and the charming SeaSun Cafe in Pismo Beach, and then continued our drive along the sunny coast with the top down.

I saw the Hollywood sign for the first time in my life. I've been to L.A. before, but I guess it was never visible for all the smog. We also saw live jazz, ate the best Chinese food I've ever had, and went to the Santa Monica pier to see the freakshows. Oh, and I do believe that PF Chang's in Santa Monica makes the best Asian Pear mojito on earth.

I've put the few photos I remembered to take up on my website.