Buckle up, TARDIS crew! We need to revisit the days we missed!
VWOOOORP!! VWOOORRRP!! VVVVWWWOOOORRRRPPP!!!!
Hello Wednesday! Yeah, this was a day when I only had one house visit and then the rest of my day was free. No wonder I didn't blog! I spent the day nothing a lot of happy nothing!
I did spend some quality time being jealous of rich white people, if that helps. See, I did my house visit in a nice part of the city, where if you live there, you ain't doin it on the cheap. And I'm always wondering what people do to make this crazy money to live where they live in this city. How does one afford to pay $4000/month rent? Or, more absurdly, afford to buy a condo with a mortgage of possibly $2-3000/month and THEN pay monthly carrying charges/maintenance fee of $900-$2000 forever??
And more importantly, would I do it if I could afford it?
I can begrudge the rich white people, but why bother? Why spend the energy? To begin with, all white people aren't rich. And secondly, all rich people aren't white. And thirdly, I know what I have to do to bring more money into my life, and I'm not doing it at the moment so I have no right to be mad at anyone. I need to be mad at the dude in the mirror who won't get his shit together.
And I won't do that EITHER. Haha.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
I Did Good Today
I love being a therapist. I love going in with people to find the logjams that has them stuck. I remember when I attended my first few sessions as a client and how I watched the guy in the chair wanting at any second to just go hug him and hold onto him for dear life.
I'm saying I always understand why people come to see me. I always know that feeling. I'm always giving it my all to answer their needs. I always respect them and love their process.
Today was one of those days that makes me remember why I do this.
People ROCK.
I'm saying I always understand why people come to see me. I always know that feeling. I'm always giving it my all to answer their needs. I always respect them and love their process.
Today was one of those days that makes me remember why I do this.
People ROCK.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Procrastination Redefined
Today I spent a majority of my 'free time' doing work I could have and should have done in the last two weeks. In addition to the office sessions I do as a therapist, I also visit those with Traumatic Brain Injuries at their homes. In order to get paid, I have to enter the session's note through the computer to an online scheduling system. It's a nifty little tool. Right after each session, I have the ability to right the note as I'm transporting away. This is a reason why I bought an iPad. Talk about a lightweight, ridiculously 21st Century tool! The kids in the 1940's would go into catatonic shock if they ever saw this thing. Either that or become Issac Asimov.
But in that last two weeks, I didn't want to do anything but read comics as I left the sessions. I was tired. So, I paid for it yesterday.
I often define procrastination as the thing perfectionists do because we don't want to get it wrong when we try it. So we don't try. Then when the deadline "sneaks" up on us, we are forced to "just do it." That extra burst of "Oh shit, I gotta get this done" juice seems to either open up our intellect to perform outstandingly, or else it gives us the perfect excuse to accept a performance rating that comes in less than perfect. We can say "well, I let it go to the last second, so no wonder I got a lower score. Oh well." And somehow that makes us feel better about not being perfect. What ISN'T acceptable is if we take our time, use all the resources offered us to complete a project, and THEN get a low score/review.
Games people (LIKE ME) play.
How complex.
But in that last two weeks, I didn't want to do anything but read comics as I left the sessions. I was tired. So, I paid for it yesterday.
I often define procrastination as the thing perfectionists do because we don't want to get it wrong when we try it. So we don't try. Then when the deadline "sneaks" up on us, we are forced to "just do it." That extra burst of "Oh shit, I gotta get this done" juice seems to either open up our intellect to perform outstandingly, or else it gives us the perfect excuse to accept a performance rating that comes in less than perfect. We can say "well, I let it go to the last second, so no wonder I got a lower score. Oh well." And somehow that makes us feel better about not being perfect. What ISN'T acceptable is if we take our time, use all the resources offered us to complete a project, and THEN get a low score/review.
Games people (LIKE ME) play.
How complex.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Unexpected Consequence
My 4th of July Central Park run netted me with a sunburn on the back of my neck. I had no idea what it was until I but two and two together. Pricky, itched, tender to the touch, and the only part exposed under the sun for an hour on a hot day.
BOOOO!
I thought the melanin in my cocoa brown skin was supposed to take care of that ish? I guess I'm whiter than I thought! Certainly I'm not as black as some have wished me to be, so I should have known!
So there goes the idea of me running shirtless! Plus, not *quite* there yet. Now I have two good excuses to wait until Autumn. It'll still be warm enough, and by then I should be all ripply.
Never too late!! Never too old!!
BOOOO!
I thought the melanin in my cocoa brown skin was supposed to take care of that ish? I guess I'm whiter than I thought! Certainly I'm not as black as some have wished me to be, so I should have known!
So there goes the idea of me running shirtless! Plus, not *quite* there yet. Now I have two good excuses to wait until Autumn. It'll still be warm enough, and by then I should be all ripply.
Never too late!! Never too old!!
Saturday, July 9, 2011
From Gallifrey
which could qualify me as a Time Lord! (TOLDJA I was a geek!)
Because I missed blogging over the weekend, but I intend to have an entry for every day in July as I planned, therefore, I'm going back in time and planting these posts on the appropriate date.
Yes, I will let my work ethic take a hit in the pursuit of being a completist.
46 and still growing!!
#cheater
#heybutatleastIadmittedit
Because I missed blogging over the weekend, but I intend to have an entry for every day in July as I planned, therefore, I'm going back in time and planting these posts on the appropriate date.
Yes, I will let my work ethic take a hit in the pursuit of being a completist.
46 and still growing!!
#cheater
#heybutatleastIadmittedit
Friday, July 8, 2011
Who's The Man
In case you haven't heard, my state recently made it legal for gay people to marry within it's borders. I've been so busy just trying to identify myself as one of them that I hadn't thought about what it meant to me personally. But now, I've been getting a real idea. And as a man, I don't know what to do with all these thoughts.
First off, I'm a singleton in this Big Apple. This means that I live off one income. My income is from the mental health field, which also means that it is LOW. It could be higher if I worked more cases per day, translating roughly, in both my jobs, to about $30 an hour. If I worked 40 of those kind of hours per week, I'd be set. But there's no way to work 40 full hours of one-on-one focused, emotion-driven, full-brain work per week. Any given 40 hr work week is interspersed with daydreaming, web surfing, smoke breaks, eating at the desk, chatter with a cubicle neighbor, reading a newspaper, bathroom oasises, water cooler gossip, phone calls to friends, smartphone games, ad infinitus. I daresay no one works more than 4 solid, 100%-ly dedicated hours per day. And that's about what I can do at max. That's $600 a week before taxes. So I survive, but I'm not rich. I live in a room in a dude's apartment. My name is not on the lease. I had a car but after one too many towaways, I realized I couldn't afford it in NYC. I never picked it up from the tow pound. It's been 7 months now. Add to this that my jobs are contract. I have no healthcare.
And many a day I wondered how would I continue living here successfully? At THIS level? How can I be 46 when everything about my life says I'm only half that age? I put those thoughts on the backburner because they were uncomfortable and undermined my sense of safety. I didn't want to confront something that seemed hopeless.
Until they said a week or so ago that I could marry a dude.
So here now is the problem. If I can get married to a guy, and get health benefits through his insurance, and have tax breaks due to my legal status, and that whole nine--then does that make me the woman of the relationship?
Women have been storming the gates forever against that very idea. Depending on a man for their safety and livelihood?? RIDICULOUS!!! And yet, here I am practically in that boat. I want a relationship with someone that turns me on, makes me want to mount them and have them call out my name. I want to do every saucy thing to my guy that women all over the world wants to do to, say, Sean Connery or ... Barack Obama. But I also don't want to have to become his live-in servile sex slave. I want equal footing. I want to be a man.
It feels insane to even think this way, but the discrepancy between male & female roles are so ingrained that I actually feel threatened by the suggestion that I would not get to enjoy my male position in a relationship if I came into a marriage as I am right now.
Ah. I think I'm just thrown off by the gender thing. If I were to marry a six-figure earning woman, what would be the difference? Ah ha...but I think I know. If the woman were the breadwinner, I'd still be the one with the penis.
Wait, WHAT???
No, yeah, seriously. Having a penis is AWESOME. It really is. But then again, I'm gay so I guess I WOULD think that. But it's been my experience that the use of said instrument turns my whole body into a machine. Something of industry. Of strength and ability and function and drive and accomplishment and power. Orgasm is an eruption of life-affirming masculinity. At least it is TO ME. Which is why I love men so much. I LOVE that ideal of the John Henrys of the world vs. The Locomotives. The Tarzans against the lions. This is why I love muscle and hard, masculine, MEN men. It's an endorphin high for me. It's a sexual fantasy. It's an inspiration. It's a motivating force. It's a mission statement. I both love men and I want to be a man. Nothing more. Nothing detracting from women, nor meant to devalue women in any way. I'm only expressing what floats MY boat.
And so having said all that -- where would I fit into a marriage with a man?
I want him to be a Man. But I want to be a Man too.
Maybe gay marriage DOES threaten heterosexual marriage because ... Well maybe because it forces everyone to re-examine the roles of each partner based on gender.
But hell, maybe that should've happened a long time ago anyway.
Meanwhile, all this talk is specious because I don't even have a boyfriend, let alone a fiancée.
I'm just blogging it out.
Blame NaBloPoMo. :-D
First off, I'm a singleton in this Big Apple. This means that I live off one income. My income is from the mental health field, which also means that it is LOW. It could be higher if I worked more cases per day, translating roughly, in both my jobs, to about $30 an hour. If I worked 40 of those kind of hours per week, I'd be set. But there's no way to work 40 full hours of one-on-one focused, emotion-driven, full-brain work per week. Any given 40 hr work week is interspersed with daydreaming, web surfing, smoke breaks, eating at the desk, chatter with a cubicle neighbor, reading a newspaper, bathroom oasises, water cooler gossip, phone calls to friends, smartphone games, ad infinitus. I daresay no one works more than 4 solid, 100%-ly dedicated hours per day. And that's about what I can do at max. That's $600 a week before taxes. So I survive, but I'm not rich. I live in a room in a dude's apartment. My name is not on the lease. I had a car but after one too many towaways, I realized I couldn't afford it in NYC. I never picked it up from the tow pound. It's been 7 months now. Add to this that my jobs are contract. I have no healthcare.
And many a day I wondered how would I continue living here successfully? At THIS level? How can I be 46 when everything about my life says I'm only half that age? I put those thoughts on the backburner because they were uncomfortable and undermined my sense of safety. I didn't want to confront something that seemed hopeless.
Until they said a week or so ago that I could marry a dude.
So here now is the problem. If I can get married to a guy, and get health benefits through his insurance, and have tax breaks due to my legal status, and that whole nine--then does that make me the woman of the relationship?
Women have been storming the gates forever against that very idea. Depending on a man for their safety and livelihood?? RIDICULOUS!!! And yet, here I am practically in that boat. I want a relationship with someone that turns me on, makes me want to mount them and have them call out my name. I want to do every saucy thing to my guy that women all over the world wants to do to, say, Sean Connery or ... Barack Obama. But I also don't want to have to become his live-in servile sex slave. I want equal footing. I want to be a man.
It feels insane to even think this way, but the discrepancy between male & female roles are so ingrained that I actually feel threatened by the suggestion that I would not get to enjoy my male position in a relationship if I came into a marriage as I am right now.
Ah. I think I'm just thrown off by the gender thing. If I were to marry a six-figure earning woman, what would be the difference? Ah ha...but I think I know. If the woman were the breadwinner, I'd still be the one with the penis.
Wait, WHAT???
No, yeah, seriously. Having a penis is AWESOME. It really is. But then again, I'm gay so I guess I WOULD think that. But it's been my experience that the use of said instrument turns my whole body into a machine. Something of industry. Of strength and ability and function and drive and accomplishment and power. Orgasm is an eruption of life-affirming masculinity. At least it is TO ME. Which is why I love men so much. I LOVE that ideal of the John Henrys of the world vs. The Locomotives. The Tarzans against the lions. This is why I love muscle and hard, masculine, MEN men. It's an endorphin high for me. It's a sexual fantasy. It's an inspiration. It's a motivating force. It's a mission statement. I both love men and I want to be a man. Nothing more. Nothing detracting from women, nor meant to devalue women in any way. I'm only expressing what floats MY boat.
And so having said all that -- where would I fit into a marriage with a man?
I want him to be a Man. But I want to be a Man too.
Maybe gay marriage DOES threaten heterosexual marriage because ... Well maybe because it forces everyone to re-examine the roles of each partner based on gender.
But hell, maybe that should've happened a long time ago anyway.
Meanwhile, all this talk is specious because I don't even have a boyfriend, let alone a fiancée.
I'm just blogging it out.
Blame NaBloPoMo. :-D
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Busy Day
which started WAY too early. So blogging content is low because most of my day has been taken up with confidential information that I can't share.
I can tell you this, though; if 35 years ago someone would've told me I'd be a therapist to New York City's most interesting people, I'da called them a science fiction writer.
But don't be confused-- EVERYONE in New York City is the most interesting. Everyone has a story and everyone's story is amazing.
Amazing.
I can tell you this, though; if 35 years ago someone would've told me I'd be a therapist to New York City's most interesting people, I'da called them a science fiction writer.
But don't be confused-- EVERYONE in New York City is the most interesting. Everyone has a story and everyone's story is amazing.
Amazing.
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