Imprisoned

Ok. Ok. Ok.

I just have to keep breathing. Right. Breathing. Breathing is good.

We were supposed to leave New Mexico this morning. We were supposed to hop in the car and drive away. I certainly wasn't looking forward to the 16 hour drive, but it was TIME. Time to go home. You see, we've been hanging out with my parents for a week. We've been with them for SEVEN straight days in a row. It's been ok. Difficult, and sometimes challenging, but ok. I'll provide more details at a later date. About 48 hours ago though, I started to hit the wall. Apparently, I had one nerve left and everyone was poking it. I just kept telling myself "Friday morning, you get to go home. Home. Friday morning. You."

And now we're snowed in. It snowed a foot last night.

When I opened the curtains this morning, I thought I was going to puke. It didn't help that I had a fitful night of sleep filled with nightmares. There's one nightmare that sticks out in my mind: My parents and I were on a boat trip. We stopped at some island where my father proceeded to piss off all the natives. We left, and then, for some reason, I went back later in the day. They recognized me and since they were mad at my father, they locked me in their prison and tortured me. When I finally got out, I refused to speak to my father.

When I told my husband about my dream this morning, he frowned and looked at me.

"That sounds like you're close to the breaking point." He said.

"Movie." I said, shaking. So we're going to watch a movie now.

God. Damn. Labile. Emotions.

All shook up

DBT started with a rumble this evening. We always spend the first couple of minutes of group in silent meditation "following our breaths." I hate it. A lot. Forcing me to spend a few quiet minutes with my thoughts is more like a form of torture for me.

Tonight started off the same... my thoughts were racing, preoccupied with how much I hated meditation, how much I had to do when I got home, how busy and stressful the day had been, and a few thousand other thoughts. Especially packing. How much I Hate packing. Hate. It requires me to make decisions... why can't I make any decisions??! My pulse was racing.

And then we had an earthquake. It was only a 3.7 but it was centered less than 1km from where I was sitting. That's enough for the whole building to go shhh-aaake, shake-a, shake-a, shhh-shhhake.

And then, finally, my brain was distracted enough that it shut the hell up. I immediately calmed down and was able to relax. I guess it was a little reminder that all that crap buzzing around in my head wasn't really that important. Plate tectonics... that's important.

When I got home, I threw half my clothes in the biggest bag we own and called it a day. We're driving - I'm taking as much luggage as that rental SUV can hold. And toiletries... I'll deal with them tomorrow.

Postscript: I don't know how much blogging I'll be doing for the next week. I'm a little paranoid about blogging from my parents computer... In case I totally flake out and don't post at all, take care and have a safe and happy holiday. And enjoy the happiest day of the year... December 24th - Christmas eve, and my 32nd birthday!

New Jersey in January. Lovely.

I promised yesterday that I’d mention my impending trip to NJ. Since Law & Order: Criminal Intent is coming on in twenty minutes, I’ll try to be brief. (Oh don’t worry, I’m gonna do a post about my insane crush on Vincent D’Onofrio’s character someday. How can you help but love “Edgar Suit?”)

So I’m not real excited about going to NJ in January.

When I talked to my dad this weekend, he invited asked me to come. He’s retiring at the end of January and his company is throwing him a dinner/roast to celebrate. (I should probably mention… my dad’s a Big. Wig. He’s the president of a company with almost $30 billion in assets. Yes. That’s billion, with a B. It’s a LONG story.)

So he asked if my husband and I would come to his party.

“It’s the sort of thing where people’s families usually come.” He said.

“Hmmmm” I stalled. “I assume mom is flying out from NM, right?”

“Yes, your mother is probably coming. Even though she’s making a face right now.” Yeahhhh…

My husband bowed out. He has four job interviews (4 now!!) in January and February. One is near home, but the other three are on the east coast. There may be more interviews that we don’t know about yet. The NJ trip would be just too much. But that doesn’t mean I can’t go…

I talked to my doctor about this on Monday and he and I agreed that I’d probably wind up going. But since I really don’t want to go, I’ll just resent going the whole time I’m there. My doc “challenged” me to feel good about my decision.

“It’s one of those 60% yes, 40% no kind of decisions.” He said. “This isn’t a nice and easy one where you know what you should do. So it’s good practice for you - to feel good about making a choice, sticking to it, without beating yourself up for it later.”

Yeah. Great idea doc. Sounds fun.

So here’s the pros and cons of going on this trip. What would YOU do?

CONS

• My dad’s been a real jerk to me in the past. His abuse is part of what caused my mental health problems. Does he deserve any kindness from me?
• My dad’s chosen work/career/power/success over his family 9 times out of 10. Because he neglected his family, doesn’t he deserve to sit there at his retirement dinner alone. I don't want act like we're all a happy family just so his colleagues think he's normal.
  
• It’s a long-ass plane trip just for one corporate dinner. And plane ride = virus.
• I’m going to spend all next week with him.
• As a Christmas gift, I’m going to go to NM this winter and spend a long weekend helping him set up his woodshop. (He wants to do woodworking in his retirement) So I’m going to see him a lot in the near future.

PROS

• He’s going to pay for the plane ticket. Having to pay to fly people to your party seems kinda sad to me… and pulls at my sympathies.
• The inheritance. The one he’s going to leave me. The really large one. I don’t want to piss him off too much. (Trust me. I realize how truly HORRIBLE that sounds. Still… it’s something that’s always in the back of my mind.)
• I can easily get the time off of work & I can probably squeeze in a visit to see a few friends in NYC.
• My dad hasn’t always been a dick to me. He’s paid for my education, my wedding, and some of my psychiatrist bills. And he’s even occasionally nice.
• My dad has almost no family. There’s my husband, my mom and me. He has no siblings, no other kids, no grandkids (yet), nobody else. And that’s sad. His choice, but still sad.
  
• It’s pretty mean (but totally typical) that my mom’s not even pretending to want to go, like I am. I feel sorry for him.
  
• My dad is self-made. He worked hard to get where he is and I have benefited from this. This should be recognized.
• My dad is not in great health. He's only 60 but has very serious heart disease. He may not be around for that long.
  
• I’m not a mean and spiteful person. I’m still really angry with him but deep down, I don’t want to hurt him.

Missing: one co-pilot

I had an good talk with the mother of one of my students this evening.

A little history: My student, “Jenny” is a very sweet, precocious little girl in the 6th grade. I started working with her this summer, helping improve her math so she could start at a private girl’s school. When the school year started, she was still having trouble with math so we resumed tutoring. She’s a warm kid with a great sense of humor and a beautiful head of curly brown hair. She incredibly creative, always painting, practicing her violin, the piano or working as a mother’s helper. It’s always a delight to work with a student like her.

When I got to her house today, Jenny wasn’t home, but her mom was. They had forgotten I was coming and Jenny couldn’t get home in time to meet me. After her mom and I rescheduled for after the holidays she offered me a cup of tea and some homemade cookies. How could I refuse?!

She invited me to sit and we started chatting. She’d just had her wisdom teeth pulled that afternoon and made a passing comment about hating to be in pain and “alone.” I wasn’t sure what she was talking about… I’ve never seen the student’s dad and they’ve only mentioned him in passing, so I assumed that they were separated or divorced.

I told her about our plans to go to see my parents in Santa Fe for Christmas and in New Jersey in January. (More about THAT tomorrow!) She asked which place my parents lived. I told her that my mom has lived in NM for the past year while my dad finished up his job. She asked how that worked for their relationship. For them, I said, it worked pretty well… In fact, for THEIR relationship, it worked better than when they lived together! “Independence can be a good thing.” I laughed.

“Yeah…” she said, “Unless it’s forced upon you…” I got the feeling that she was hinting at something, so I decided to ask.

“You mentioned that earlier… about being alone when you’re sick… I wasn’t sure, are you and your husband separated?”

“No. Jenny’s dad died a while ago, when she was five.” I told her how sorry I was to hear this and she thanked me.

“Jenny’s never mentioned it to me, so I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good thing. There used to be a time when she felt like she HAD to tell everyone she met.” I agreed.

“Is Jenny a lot like her dad?” Her mom nodded and I thought I saw her eyes get moist.

“Yeah, her dad was an artist and a musician like her. He was a chef and a stay at home dad so they were always together.” I wanted to keep talking to her but I wasn’t sure what to say next. I remarked on how hard it must be on her – losing her spouse and being a single mom. I knew they’d been married a long time before they even had Jenny. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to lose your husband of 17 years and father of your 5 year-old daughter.

“Yeah, we moved into this house almost exactly 20 years ago. We were really great friends… always got along really well. It’s like we started this plane trip together and halfway through I lost my co-pilot.” She said. I told her that my husband and I are in the process of trying to start a family.

“I’ve had a lot of health problems in the past and I know that’s a huge concern for my husband… that something will happen to me and he’ll be left a single parent. He almost lost me a few years ago and that was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do... to watch him going through that.”

And so she asked about what had happened to me and I told her. She didn’t seem to freak out or get uncomfortable. I’m pretty good about talking about my diagnoses and past in a non-threatening way. She’d never heard of Borderline Personality Disorder, of course, so I got another chance to educate someone about it and put a good face on the diagnosis. It’s a little embarrassing, but it helps to de-mystify the illness. I try to remind myself that I have nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Wow, so you’ve been through a lot.” She said, very warmly. “So you understand… you never know what’s going to happen in life.” We talked about Jenny a while longer and then her mouth started hurting so I said goodbye, wishing her a Happy New Year.

When I got home, I felt bad that I hadn’t asked her more about her husband – like I had talked too much about myself. I Googled him and found out that they used to run a local restaurant. I knew the mom was a foodie, but I never realized that she was a chef. I was so struck by what a unique and lovely family they were and still are. Hearing about a tragedy like that… I dunno. It’s heartbreaking and strangely… uplifting. It’s heartening to see how well Jenny and her mom have done on their own. Impressive really.

Postscript: The homemade cookies were chocolate with hot pepper. This seems to be a big trend right now – adding spice and heat to chocolate. I like spicy food and I like chocolate, but the combination… eeech! I don’t get it!

My (odd) adoring public

I've been keeping a list of recent searches that led people to this site. They're gettin' weirder and weirder.
Some were predictably mental health related:

• wellbutrin alcohol -buy bupropion -pharmacy (by the way, don't do any of these things in combination!)
  
• the movie proof mental illness diagnose
• dayquil makes me less depressed
• rachel reiland blog
• im not supposed to be here rachel reiland
• hurt self respect
• i hurt my parents
• my parents are childish
• DBT

Some were related to The Simpsons:

• pockets hurts
• hurt our pockets
• kill the alligator and run my pockets hurt

A surprising amount were related to academics, specifically the ISEE:

• independent school entrance examination interpret
• sick for the hspt 2006
• the gatekeepers- steinberg
• christmas geometry proof
• math theorem
• average isee scores (twice)
  
• good isee scores
• isee scores
• ISEE scores interpretation (twice)
  
• BISHOP O'DOWD HIGH SCHOOL
• isee scores and what is a good score for admissions
• non-profit

There were some pregnancy related searches:

• using proactiv while pregnant
• cold eaze
• cold eaze pregnant

And to boost my readership, I should apparently devote this blog to problems with VWs (I guess I'm not the only one with an annoying EPC light!):

• polo epc
• volkswagon polo epc
• auto review, polo,epc
• epc vw mean
• for 2000 vw auto warning lights anti-slip and epc lights up
• epc check polo
• polo epc warning light
• epc polo
• VW Polo EPC light come on
• volkswagen polo epc light cause

Oh yeah, and Tiger Shulman's pretty popular too:

• tiget shulman karate good or bad?
• tiger shulman in philadelphia, pa.
• tiger shulman south jersey

And the rest are just... well, see for yourself:

• hallmark movie hospice
• seinfled episodes t-bone
• complaints about allkidsstuff.com
• kate bingaman-burt website
• christmas toast nice boss
• skiier’s thumb
• stigation
• hot mom
• hostage situation in the south
• how to tell junipers apart
• skinny dipping wi (I know people like the new Sony Wii, but skinny dipping?)

And last but not least, my two favorites:

• how to make curly fries curly?
• love making lists

Were you all raised by wolves?

Warning: I'm going to get a little bitchy here.

I’ve been interviewing new tutors for my company. I can’t say this is my favorite task, but I do meet a lot of… interesting people. I have some feedback for some of them:

1. To the five people who never replied when I asked them for an interview - What’s wrong with you? I don’t see how you could lose interest or take another job since I emailed you back less than a day after you sent your resume. But if you did, wouldn’t it be courteous to decline and thank me? To the two people who started scheduling interviews with me and then just disappeared – Is this how your mothers raised you?

2. I know I work for a non-profit in the Bay Area. I know we work with under-served student communities. But we don’t require our employees to take a vow of poverty! It seems like none of you have a car! Sigh. I know you want to be all eco-fabulous and ride your bikes everywhere, but that makes it harder for us to get you client’s houses on time. Why don’t we compromise and you can get a hybrid. (Which reminds me; one of my students last week told me that she thought a hybrid car was “like ½ Ford and ½ Toyota or something.” Cute.)

3. To all the highly qualified humanities tutors I’ve talked to – Look. I want to hire you. But I can’t. It just… students usually need more help with math and science. When kids aren’t doing well in English or history, they get C’s and their parents assume they can help. When students aren’t doing well in math and science, they get D’s and F’s, their parents freak out and realize that they can’t help them. Then they call us. Don’t get me wrong, we DO tutor students in the humanities. But when we hire tutors who can teach math and science, they’ve probably managed to pass their humanities courses in college and can teach those subjects too. I’m sorry, but English tutors are a dime a dozen.

4. To the acrobat I interviewed last week – I was willing to look past the unicycle you rode to our interview. I was willing to believe that your previous job, teaching trapeze at Club Med, was… a youthful indiscretion. I’m even young enough to think that living in a warehouse with your acrobatics troupe is edgy and cool (although probably drafty). But dude. When you divide a negative number by another negative number, the answer is positive. Sure you remember calculus. Sure.

5. To the nice older lady I interviewed yesterday – If your three huge witch-like moles on your nose were distracting ME, how the hell is the student supposed to concentrate. You seemed very nice, and I think it’s cool that you used to be a journalist. But you’re just not our “type.” (And the test is called the S.A.T., not the Sat, like the abbreviation for Saturday. It was really getting on my nerves. Almost as much as when my students learn sine, cosine & tangent for the first time and pronounce it “sin” like as in the 7 deadly. Makes. Me. Nuts.)

6. To the failed substitute tutor turned part-time librarian – I’m sorry I couldn’t hire you. You seemed kinda pathetic and shy and I kept wanting to fix your hair. (It was soooo stringy!) But when I told you that your math skills were too rusty for us, how was I supposed to respond to your reply:

“I appreciate your honesty and want to thank you for meeting with me. I will say however that with any preparation, I would have been able to answer those questions. I can do that stuff. Honestly, you just happened to catch me on a bad morning. I felt pretty silly not being able to answer that stuff off the top of my head so I went home and looked up a lot of those questions. I was able to figure it out right away by just seeing the equation. I've helped a lot of kids understand math/science on a lot of levels and when I have a book in front of me and I have a minute or two to remember it, I feel I can be really helpful. I respect your decision and understand you have to do what you think is best for your students as well as your company. I just want to express that I feel like I can really help kids out. Maybe I couldn't remember the m=(y1-y2/(x1-x2) equation off the top of my head but as soon as I saw it, I remembered and knew that I would be able to explain it to anyone who did not understand it. I also understand the reasoning behind your methodology of ascertaining a tutors skills. I would like to also venture that observing my girlfriend teach, she never enters a classroom unprepared. I'd like to think that any student I would tutor, I would prepare myself to be able to help them the best way possible. Again, I respect your decision but I feel like I need to vouch for myself a little bit.”

Yes. That’s what tutoring is all about… preparation. When I hire you for this job, you get a little implant in your brain that allows you to read your student’s teacher’s thoughts. That way, when you walk into a student’s house, you’ve already had a chance to spend the day boning up on whatever subject material the teacher dreamed up when they were revising their lesson plans this summer. Oh yeah, and the company’ll pay you for that prep time too. In fact, we’re a non-profit because we use all our revenue to send your ass back to college to re-learn all the stuff you should’ve learned the first time around.

Oh, and dude, get your “girlfriend” to fix your hair.

Just call me Miss Cleo

When I sat down with my shrink on Monday, the first question he asked me was not the usual: “Rate your suicidal thoughts on a scale of 1-10.” Instead, he bounced happily on his couch and asked “So when did I get a new girlfriend?”

“Ummm… “ I replied. “I dunno… do you have a new girlfriend?” Even though I knew why he was asking, I wasn’t quite sure what to say.

It’s part of a little running inside joke we share, namely that Borderlines can read minds. (Borderlines do tend to be VERY perceptive. We’re really good at picking up on people’s cues and non-verbal signals. I know that I’m good at it because I was always watching my parents as a child. I had to learn to predict their bizarre and often violent behavior.)

You see… about two years ago, I noticed one morning that he looked different… his hair looked disheveled and he looked like he was wearing old clothes. He also looked tired and stressed. I asked him if he was ok.

“God, you borderlines are perceptive!” He said shaking his head. “I’m curious, why do you ask?”

“Well, you’re wearing different clothes, you look exhausted and you’re not wearing your wedding ring.”

“Yeah, I’ve been going through a rough time lately.” We left it at that since I knew I couldn’t ask for details.

Early this year, he admitted that he’d been going through a separation and that he and his wife were now divorcing. I had already figured all of this out and told him so. We talked about it a little and I told him that I hoped he was taking care of himself. I also got the sense that he was back in therapy himself and that it was helping. Soon afterwards, he hired a personal trainer and lost some weight. After a while, his mood looked lighter too. He bought himself a little house and told me about how he was fixing it up.

So I’m sure, when he asked me about his new girlfriend on Monday, this was what he was referring to. I actually hadn’t surmised he was dating anyone, but I had noticed that he seemed very happy lately.

But… his question made me a little uncomfortable. We have an unusually close relationship for a therapist and a client. It seems to work for us. We’re very similar and we get along very well. Still, I feel a little odd when it’s out in the open like that. I like it better when I just read his mind and we laugh about it.

The whole thing’s a little tricky. What do you do when you’re friends with your doc? And do I use my psychic powers for good or evil?

Wise-Ass Onesie Wednesday

husband > macaroni

My husband is off on a play date tonight so I'm on my own for the evening. His grad-school buddy's wife is on a business trip so they are enjoying large amounts of x-box, HDTV and whiskey. And of course, no man play-date is complete without some ball scratching and swearing (I imagine). He doesn't do this on a regular basis.

And it's a good thing. (Not because I don't want him to have friends) It's just... I don't know what to do with myself when he's not here.

When he's home, I have guidelines. Eat a nice dinner. Clean up afterwards. Don't spend the evening doing work or staring at the computer. Interact with the other person in the room. Go to bed around 11pm.

When he's not home, all bets are off. I might decide to eat something odd (like a bowl of brussel sprouts) or not to eat at all. I might use the time to catch up on work and get myself all burnt out and exhausted. One minute, I'm tempted to let the house get all messy and the next, I want to start taking apart all the closets. If I can't make any decisions and get really fed up, I might just go to bed right after dinner. It's like the committee in my head can't decide what's most important. The various facets of my personality always seem to want to do different things. The only time when they agree is when someone else is counting on them.

So this is what I've decided to do tonight: eat a bowl of Annie's mac & cheese, lie on the couch and stare at the TV. It's like a big, glowing pacifier when I don't want to think anymore.

Postscript: soon after writing the above post, our neighbor came home. The cat thought it was my husband and ran expectantly to the door. I guess I'm not the only one who misses him.

Caution, Pollyanna alert

I read a thought provoking post at Anonymous Mom’s site last week that I’ve been meaning to comment on. She wrote:

“Throughout the past year I feel like I have been a traveling cloud of bad karma…. everywhere I go, the people I deal with on a daily basis are also experiencing this…. I am really starting to feel that I have the Midas touch of shit.”

When I first read this, I REALLY identified with it. My husband and I have frequently lamented our “bad karma.” I sometimes joke that I am the reincarnation of someone very evil. Ever since we got married in the summer of 2001, it’s felt like our lives have been surrounded with misfortune. Yet, this past week, I started to wonder if this was really accurate.

I decided that I would make a list of all the bad things that have happened since then.

2001
• World Trade Center Attacks. Our matron of honor, a NYC policewoman is nearly killed.
2002
• Business in NYC dries up and our friends lose their store in Chelsea.
• A family friend is brutally murdered at age 24. We later learn that the killer was planning to kill the entire family.
• I spend all year being verbally abused by my employer.
• My suicidal thoughts return and I’m incorrectly prescribed Paxil.
2003
• I’m arrested and charged with DUI.
• I spend a month in a psychiatric unit of a local hospital and then another month at a residential psychiatric program.
• I’m diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and Alcoholism.
• I end my career as an architect and spend all year in a psychiatric day program.
2004
• I spend a week in a psychiatric unit of a local hospital.
• I’m kicked out of the residential psychiatric program.
• My disability insurance runs out and we struggle financially.
• We battle with our insurance company and ask the CA state Board of Insurance to intervene.
2005
• Over the course of the year, six friends kill themselves.
• A friend’s marriage ends in divorce.
• We battle with our insurance company and ask the CA department of Managed Health Care to intervene.
• A friend is diagnosed with a fatal genetic disorder.
2006
• Our friend with the genetic disorder contracts colon cancer at age 29.
• Anonymous mom’s mom (who I’ve known since I was two) almost dies.
• A business deal my dad is orchestrating falls through.
• A family friend’s son drops dead of an aortic aneurysm at age 24.
• Our good friend, Betty, moves away.
• Just this month, a friend’s son was changing a tire on the highway and was struck by a drunk driver.

So… it doesn’t look very good. That’s a lot of bad stuff.

But then, I started thinking. There’s a good side to a lot of those things.

• Our friend who lost her store in Chelsea can now be a stay-at-home mom.
• Yes, I ended my career as an architect, but I got rid of the verbally abusive employer. This allowed me to became a teacher – something I’d always wanted to do. And since I started this career path, I’ve never been at a loss for work. In fact, people have let me run three different companies!
• Yes, my suicidal thoughts returned, but I finally got help for them. Yes, I was in multiple hospitals and day programs, but I met good, decent therapists (for the most part) and got good help that I’d been needed for ages. Yes, I got those lousy diagnoses but frankly, they were correct and helped me finally understand myself.
• Yes, I was arrested and deserved it. But I came close to dying that night and I lived. AND I’ve been sober for the past four years. Something I thought I could never accomplish.
• We have fought many battles with our insurance companies, but so far, we have forced them to pay for nearly everything.
• Six friends did commit suicide, but I’ve made great friends and met amazing people. And I’ve finally met and connected with other people with mental illnesses and hospitalizations – something I’d always wanted.
• Yes, we’ve struggled financially but my husband got his PhD, has had a successful post-doctorate fellowship, and is now looking for professorships. For the first time, our financial outlook is not so bleak.
• Our friend with the fatal genetic disorder was glad to finally know what was wrong with her. Even though doctors doubted there was anything wrong with her, she kept pushing for an answer. Her perseverance meant that she was able to catch the colon cancer before it had metastasized.
• Our good friend, Betty, did move away, but she is building a wonderful new life in her home state.
• My parents retired to a beautiful estate outside of Santa Fe and we get along with them better than we ever have.
• I’ve been off meds with the goal of getting pregnant for five months. And although I’m not pregnant, YET… in the past few years, tons of our friends have had trouble-free pregnancies and have given birth to happy, healthy, wonderful children.
• Despite all my troubles, my husband hung in there with me and we have been together for 11 years.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not implying for ONE SECOND that anonymous mom has it wrong. There are years where everything just goes to shit. And there certainly are events that lead to no happy endings – our friend who was murdered, September 11th, and near-death experiences are never good. NEVER.

I guess I was just surprised to look up and realize that I no longer have a black cloud hanging over my head. A lot of the things that I thought were terrible tragedies have actually made my life better in the long run. They were incredibly painful (or “hella painful” as one of my students would say) but they were sorta… worth it.

Hey, I did warn you that I was going to sound like a Pollyanna… (Ah, Haley Mills, so talented and yet so possessed looking in the above picture.)

If this tree had candles, they'd be burning at both ends

So it's been a few days since I've posted... nothin's wrong. I've just been busy. Here's a little summary to catch you up:

Wednesday:

• I worked without stopping from 9am - 6pm. An unusually long work day for me. (I've been interviewing new tutors for my company - a task which takes a lot of time.)
• From 7-9pm, I had DBT. Then we watched the Mythbuster's holiday special.
  

Thursday:

• In the morning, I made the 100mi round trip to Palo Alto to meet with my doctor. (Yeah, I know, that's too far to drive to see a doc, but what can I do? I used to live down the street from his office and then we moved.)
• That afternoon, I tutored from 12 - 5:30pm.
• Then I picked up my husband and we drove back down to Palo Alto! 100 more miles on the car, but it was worth it to wish our friend a happy 30th birthday. We had a nice time and even got to meet another friend's 3-week old baby. Ah, jealousy.

Friday:

• In the morning, I interviewed four potential tutors in person. Hired two tutors who are dating each other and just rode their bikes across the US. Hired another guy who installs backyard vegetable gardens part-time. Nice people who could all do math! Didn't hire the acrobat who juggles fire and rides a unicycle. (you're welcome Betty!)
• From 12-2pm I went to my depression support group. There was pizza! (depression? What depression?)
  
• More interviews and tutoring from 2-7pm.
• After dinner, I went to Sparknotes and read up on "The Gilded Age & the Progressive Era (1877–1917)." (Yes, I'm a nerd. But, earlier in the afternoon, I was helping one of my students study this period for a history test. I'm always chagrined by how little history I retain.)
  

Saturday:

• House was filthy so we cleaned all morning.
• An old friend from college came over. He came with my husband and I to get a Christmas tree. (Considering it's a 7-8' tree, I thought $50 was a pretty good price. Of course, we did go to the tree lot next to the highway in a rather sketchy local town... ) We then spent the afternoon setting it up.
• Spent a nice evening with my husband - went out to a local diner, browsed at a good bookstore, and then spent some "quality" time together.
• I fell sound asleep at 10 while debating baby names for our yet-to-be-conceived future child. (I no longer like the name Gabriel. In fact, we like NO boy names. Hmmmm. Any suggestions? It can't contain an "oo" sound like in Juniper or end in the letter n.)
  

Sunday:

• Sunday mornings are devoted to the New York Times, of course.
• I tutored all afternoon from 12-5pm.

I need to have a bit more down time next week. Whenever I get too busy, I burn out fast.

But the tree does looks great!

ah, adolescence - a play in two acts

Scene One:
I had to reprimand one of my students yesterday. It was Michael, the infamous son of “Hairy” who I’ve blogged about before.

When I showed up, I discovered that he STILL hadn’t done any of the ISEE homework I’d assigned him. Two weeks ago, I asked him to write a 20-minute practice essay based on one of the questions in the test prep book. He didn’t do it.

At our next lesson, I helped him write an outline and asked him to finish the essay for homework. As soon as he showed me that he knew how to do it, I’d get off his back, I promised. He turned the outline into one, six-sentence paragraph. Not good enough, I told him.

He told me he had a hard time with the essay question. He couldn’t think of an answer. So I gave him a different question and told him to write another essay. He didn’t do it.

“Basically, there’s no point in studying for this test anymore.” He whined. “I just suck at it and I’m not going to get better before Saturday.”

“Uh, first of all, you don’t suck at it. But how do you expect to improve your score if you don’t practice.” He didn’t have an answer for this. “So you’ve just decided that you’re not going to do any more work I assign because it’s a lost cause, right?” He nodded.

“Honestly Michael…” Now I was starting to get annoyed. “This is a waste of my time and your parent’s money. If you don’t want to do any more prep, that’s your choice. But you should have the guts to tell your parents so they can call me and tell me not to come.”

“But my parents don’t listen! They’re going to make me do this even if I don’t want to!”

He has a point there. His dad IS the main problem. We have a company policy that when a student doesn’t complete their homework, the tutor is supposed to leave. The parents still get charged (and, of course, tell the kid never to pull that again) and the student learns some responsibility. It’s a little harsh the first time, but ultimately, the student does the work and gets more out of the tutoring. But the one time I left early (Michael didn't have any assignments to work on and I told him I'd credit him for the time) his dad called and yelled at me.

“Ok, that’s fine. But I’m trying to help you. If you don’t prepare, you’re just wasting my time. When you act like this, I feel like you’re treating me with respect.” He sat there glaring at his shoes. “Do you disagree?”

“No.”

“Ok, well then, would you apologize to me?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He actually sounded sincere.

“Thanks. I feel much better now. I’ll tell your mom that we’re done with test prep tutoring.”

We left it at that and had a pleasant rest of our session together. I got heard and he got the chance to make up, in part, for his bad choices. He actually seemed a little relieved.


Scene Two:
Michael had to write a book report on Last of the Mohicans for his 8th grade English teacher. He had a hard time even finishing the book (which is quite long) and now I’m wondering if he really finished it or was simply fibbing. He admitted that he’d looked at Cliff Notes’ website for help and insisted he HADN’T plagiarized it.

When I read his essay though, I was skeptical. His essay was sprinkled with phrases like:

“Fort William Henry, which is besieged by the French near Lake George…. the villainous Huron escapes…. the Huron coldly proposes to Cora…. Hawkeye effects his escape and Alice's through disguise….
Tamenund sadly comments upon the worsening historic plight of the American Indians and particularly upon the tragically accomplished demise of the wise and noble race of Mohicans.”

Now I don’t know about you, but I don’t know a lot of 13-year-old boys who write like this.

I told him that I thought that the writing sounded too mature. He insisted that he hadn’t copied it. I told him I was going to check the website when I got home. He said, ok.

I checked tonight. He’s right. He didn’t copy it word for word. But otherwise, it’s almost exactly the same. Sigh.

I called his mom and told her that he should re-do the essay completely. She was nice about it. I guess this is yet another chance for him to learn a lesson about responsibility. If only I thought his dad wouldn’t come down so hard on him.

I like it when my students learn… but I hate it when they insist on learning the hard way.

images: N C Wyeth, "The Last of the Mohicans" (1919)

Mormons 1, cold virus 0

I got a lot of yesterday’s list done today!

I’m almost finished with my Christmas shopping! Maybe one more little thing for dad and I’d like to check out one more store for my husband. Then all I have to do is wrapping and shipping!

I talked to my mom today. She wasn’t pissed.

I sent out the work-related email that I’d been avoiding. I also emailed my friend who I was worried about and my other friend about Christmas tree shopping.

I EVEN went to the post office and mailed everything!

Tomorrow I’m going to tackle the laundry, Barnes & Noble, the rental car and the bills. I might even try to go for a walk!

Of course, the cleaning, writing, reading and piano… that’ll have to wait a bit longer.

God… it feels good to be healthier!

PS. I found out my strangely nice boss is a Mormon pastor. This explains a LOT. I wonder if he's a member here:


Believe it or not, this is our local Mormon temple. They seem to be doing rather... WELL for themselves, no?

Progress

I actually got something done today!

I woke up at 10am, actually ready to get out of bed! For the past two weeks, in a desperate attempt to get over this never ending cold, I’ve tried to wring every drop of sleep out of every available minute.

And so I got up and read the paper. Then I went out and tutored three students.

And then I called Betty! I finally had enough time, energy and voice to call. We had a nice conversation.

AND then I finished our Christmas cards. OK, so only 1/3 of the people on our list are getting a photocopy of a short letter and the rest aren’t getting a note. I consider that a half-assed job, but at least I finished them!

AND I did the dishes (my husband made a lovely steak).

So that’s all good.

Now. Here’s a list of all the things I should’ve done, but didn’t:
1. Catch up on the laundry that built up when I was sick last week.
2. Finish my Christmas shopping, online and otherwise.
3. Talk to my mom. I thought she was going to call??? Great, now I’m worrying that she’s pissed at me.
4. Send out the work-related email that I’ve been avoiding.
5. Rent a car for our Christmas vacation.
6. Call my depressed friend and see if she’s ok. She cancelled a get-together on Friday.
7. Go to Barnes & Noble and get gift certificates for all my nieces and nephews.
8. Email my friend and ask him if he wants to get a Christmas tree with us next weekend.
9. Pay bills.
10. Mail some letters and packages that have been lingering in my car.
11. Clean any part of my house.
12. Work on my book.
13. Practice the piano.
14. Turn off the darn TV and read a book for a change.
15. Exercise. Right. What the hell is that?

This is the not so fun thing I do to myself. Even when I should feel a sense of accomplishment… like today, I just start to think about all the things I should ALSO have done. Sometimes, it’s easier to be sick and have an excuse. Mental illness can be enticing that way too. If I’m crazy, then I don’t have to be responsible.

But. I don’t want to be crazy. And all that stuff is less important than me.