End of days (of 2009)

Things I have learned this past year:

*Relationships are hard work. Really hard work. And I'm not always cut out for maintaining them. Though I am reveling in the fact that I am more comfortable than I have been in a long while sharing with my parents and rebuilding my relationship with them. Having different beliefs than one's parents is always difficult and letting them know that is even tougher. It's hard for me to not feel like I am disappointing people and this has been one of my greatest challenges in developing an honest and trustful connection with the people who raised me in a certain way and hoped for certain things. I am at a point where I truly feel the proudness they have for their children and have a clearer picture of them as people and not just MY parents. I think that the most honest way to connect with people is to see them as individuals and not just all the roles they have taken on throughout life and managing to experience this with my parents has been an incredibly fulfilling experience that has convinced me of the unending support I have through my family. My siblings and I have grown closer and closer throughout the years and this one in particular saw a lot of intense raw reality in expressing our joys and sorrows with each other. I am so grateful for these relationships, for sharing a history with such unique individuals. Yes, there are still many issues on this front, but I feel a sense of stability from my family for once.

Non-relative relationships have been more of a roller coaster, meeting some wonderfully beautiful people and also continuing longer term friendships (beautiful minds and essences-I think you may know who you are and thank you so much for your friendship) that have greatly expanded my perspective, but also seeing some friendships deteriorate and not knowing if I had the energy to reconstruct them or whether or not I should expend the energy to make things right. When are things ever right anyway? That's the difficult part. Becoming close to another person requires investing so much of multiple resources both concrete and intangible it is hard to determine when continuing on and sorting things out in tough times is realistic or better to leave alone. This is my biggest challenge on the friend front. I am no model friend, believe me. I admit I have hurt people I care deeply about, though it has not been intentional. I'm thinking that the same difficulty in seeing my parents as separate from all their various roles I associate them with comes into play on this level of relationships as well. Does anyone else have a difficult time in tactfully maintaining one's own mental sanity and simultaneously avoiding detriment to another's? I'm sure this is linked to my fear of disappointing people and could work on my honesty and assertiveness first to myself (imagine that! I can disappoint even myself) and then to others.

*Having a sense of direction is my saving grace this year. I feel confident in my choice and confident in the possibility of changing course eventually again after I have worked in a school for a good long while. After working as a school counselor I may continue further in school/educational psychology or move on to clinical psychology as a general therapist. I get caught up in my emotions so often, it is relieving to have a more concrete idea of what I am doing with my life.

*Part of my confidence in Psychology is based in how I can personally relate to it. The newest phase studied in lifespan human development is Emerging Adulthood, said to last between ages 18 and 25. And isn't it ironic that in this past year in which I turned 26 I felt things start to fall into place and feel more like an adult? Maybe it isn't very adult for me to boast about how I feel like one, but upon reflection I don't see such different scenarios as I do different ways I have responded to them. I metacognitize a heck of a lot and I've seen a shift between rumination and action, obsessing and progressing. I went through my fair share of depression during the earlier part of the second half of this year (did you get that?), but from previous experience I was actually able to handle it much less fatalistically than I usually have. I let myself just zone out and experience it, knowing that I would sense a change eventually, and I did. Not that it wasn't hard, because it was, I just know there are harder things out there. My life is not one of those.

My apologies for such a candid post. These thoughts are spur of the moment reflections, how I feel now about what has happened, and while I've experienced misery, frustration, and despair this year, I let myself feel them very much in full and am now experiencing joy, hopefulness, and excitement. Each year brings such a variety of the unexpected and the anticipated, each day so different, routine habit mixed with nothing you could ever predict-I have no idea just exactly how my plans for next year will turn out, so I'm hoping at least that I'm ready for anything. Thanks to you all. I love you.

Emptiness of Self

And life proves to be good, yet again, revealing all my woes to be attributable to my own silly neuroses and overanalysis of nearly everything. I have been reading "thoughts without a thinker" by Mark Epstein, a psychotherapist and Buddhist who incorporates Buddhist philosophy with the western notion of psychotherapy. I will try and be brief in summarizing the gist of the book. So far, he has argued that Freud's ideas of the self which exists deep beneath layers of childhood and relationships with parents are oddly similar to Buddhism's Wheel of Life used to teach about the concept of karma, "the notion that a person's actions in this life will affect the kind of rebirth he or she will take in the next." I don't necessarily believe in reincarnation and neither does Epstein. However, he uses the teachings of each realm in the Wheel of Life to explain a different aspect of psychotherapy, viewing the Wheel as more a categorization of psychological realms, "points of self-estrangement" he calls them, where we experience ourselves through our reactions to different things we find lacking in our sense of identity. The part that is echoing to me throughout today and this past week is the Buddha's idea of self as empty. If the self is empty, then we do not experience the tensions based on what we lack or what we cling to as images representing the self. I have learned that the act of defining oneself and attaching labels decreases the capacity for change and adaptation by requiring that if one makes a statement or opinion or even encounters something which clashes with these labels, the mind is confused and must accommodate for the change. If these labels do not exist, the self does not need to accommodate or overanalyze the process. It is found that a person who understands the "emptiness of self" is very similar to what Westerners expect in a person with a highly developed sense of self. The search for self is not regressive nor is it a manifestation of a true (buried) self, says Epstein, but rather a "crumbling of the false self" through "awareness of its manifestations" without sensing a need to create new ones, a very relieving experience indeed. I found myself saying in the shower something along the lines of, "I am not ashamed of who I am, I am not ashamed of my opinions, interests and desires which are free to change. I am not ashamed of me." This type of statement may be a no brainer to some people, but for me it has not always been.

And that is why I find life good, because everytime I step out of my brain, I see how good it can be and how the psychological realms of the Wheel of Life can reduce us to neurotic, narcissistic, jealous, greedy and grasping personalities, heavily burdened with varying images of the self.

Disgust of Us

I don't usually latch myself onto and become a hard core fan of friends' bands just because I'm friends with them. Groupies scare me. In fact, when I meet someone and they invite me out to one of their shows, I'm incredibly wary because I hope hope hope they don't suck or sound completely boring and typical, leaving me in a quandary as to how to respond. When I first saw my friend Cheryl's band, Disgust of Us, it was in a tiny cramped space with bad sound, and yet I heard something unique. I wasn't crazy over it, to be honest, but I could definitely hear something new and creative and the sense of cynicism was raw. If you didn't leave the show with much, you at least could strongly feel the "disgust." I've known Cheryl and her boyfriend PJ (co-lead guitar and vocals) for a good long while, and our friendship formed parallel to the band's progress. All the while I saw them get better and more confident with their creativity. Even with a bass player switch, they caught up quickly to where they'd been, Laura's skills increasing greatly with every show and Sam getting more precise and crazy (if those two things can happen together!!) all the time. So, to be honest, I formed a friendship with Disgust of Us, too, and have been impressed by their ability to fine tune their cynicism and even bring in some soft, all the while completely immersing themselves in their art every time they play.

They are also a band that has their shit together. Last night, at their record release party, I noticed for the first time this enormous sense of professionalism and entertainment. Cheryl has been able to really think business when it comes to spreading the word, while still keeping it casual and unobtrusive. And they are always expressing gratitude left and right, near and far, for everyone who helps out, shows up, and goes away from a show telling their friends about it.

Art communicates. Perhaps a reason I feel so much closer to C & P (and many others whom I've met through them) is that their music communicates honestly what they think and feel. It is not just a performance; it is also like sitting down with them for a beer (or standing in most cases! :-P) and listening to them discuss what heavies their hearts the most, and that too me, is grounds for bonding with a band as though it in itself is a friend. Please check them out. They have quite the story to tell in their music.

www.disgustofus.com

www.myspace.com/disgustofus

Please share

I keep sitting down at this screen trying to think up something interesting to write about. Truth is, not much interesting going on these days, just trying to stay afloat financially and mentally. I twitch a little when I think of writing down all my frustrations in a blog post, as though it's something unique to talk about, as though millions of people aren't feeling this frustration. But I know I'm not so unique, and I know that I am not alone in how I feel.

I feel unmotivated without a job and as if all my other volunteer activities at times are "optional." I feel I go through much of my life viewing "appointments" and even dates with friends as optional. Part of that may have to do with my social anxiety that every so often comes out to bare its teeth threateningly at me, telling me I'm not likeable, not productive enough, not using my time wisely enough to go share myself with others. Part of it may have to do with being broke the majority of the time, so that when a friend says "let's go grab a pint!" or "let's do dinner!" I regretfully must decline.

It's true that I feel happiest while traveling, while seeing new places and trying new things, but life, I guess, isn't about being happiest, it's about balance. It's about hard work, suffering, awkwardness, discomfort, embarrassment, rejection, but also about elation, excitement, awe, joy, love, comfort, and achievement. In the past I may have had ideas about why life has to necessarily be hard, why it can't just all be a meadow of hippie love, but it's clearer to me now how important balance is. I feel it when I turn down an invite after I've spent a week feeling being unmotivated and unproductive and not leaving the house a great deal. I feel that I don't deserve to reward myself with something fun, because I haven't been doing anything particularly hard other than feeling sorry for myself (and YES that is a particularly hard thing to do, especially when you'd prefer not to and feel like you have no control over feeling that way no matter what).

This is why I have waited so long to post. I was in a very low place for a long time and did not feel I had the perspective to express myself clearly. Believe me, I have typed and deleted a number of words in the past few months, trying to think of what to share, but nothing seems appropriate. I have internalized for too long, losing light of the lives of people I love and how they experience joy and suffering, too.

These moments are always the clearest for me, the moments just after awakening out of my depressed sleep. It is in these moments I have the clearest memory of depression, and also the clearest glimpse of how I may alter it. More important than that, I have the purest motivation and am reassured of my decision to become a school guidance counselor. I recently started my volunteering at Berkeley High School as a Writing Coach and though I was nervous and intimidated before hand, the two sessions I have had so far with two students of very differing abilities have gone much more smoothly than I expected. My coaching can still use some work, and I continue to try different methods, but it was really something to feel as comfortable as I did. The only thing on my mind was putting across the information in a way the students could understand, being patient enough for them to process it, and really just listening. The syntactical part of coaching writing should be as important as just plain listening and nodding and smiling and saying "Thank you for sharing your ideas with me. Please continue to share more."

Obscene remarks

I have been in an absolute piss-ass funk of a mood lately. Excuse my vulgarity, but it's true. While you would have found me during the first half of the year as an easygoing ho-hum girl who liked to take things as they are and not freak out over the details (just read my upbeat and positive early blogs), I'm now finding myself to be frustrated to high heaven and highly irritable by anything that doesn't fit into my structure of "how things are." This is not a new place for me to be. In fact, it was my mood of choice throughout most of high school and my early twenties. So how did I get sucked back into this habit of needing control and things to be done my way? What makes it even worse is that being in this state of mind in turn makes me extremely uncomfortable and I then become even more irritable. Poop.

To make things even more interesting, I'm taking the GRE tomorrow and was a stupid girl and put off studying until mostly the last minute and am frustrated by ridiculously worded math questions. And frustrated with myself for not staying motivated to complete something very important to accomplishing my goals. I told myself when I started this blog I wouldn't have pity party posts, but this mood calls for a freebie. Poop, poop. What would early 2009 Kimberly tell late 2009 Kimberly?

Getting back on the bike

The BLOG bike, that is! Even though I did get back on Mrs. Tibbles (my Specialized Rockhopper) only two days after the big MS bike ride. In fact, surprisingly, Mike and I rode our bikes after arriving by bus (from Lake Sonoma where we finished the ride) back at the start location to BART in San Francisco and then from BART in East Bay to home, a feat I never thought my butt would let me do. Those sit bones were ACHING! I'm also grateful that our fellow teammates, Mike Trumpis and Suzanne Beahrs, who had a car for their own bikes and gear, took our big packs and dropped them at home, thus letting us perform the amazing sore-butt-bone-defying feat free of enormous packs of tent, sleeping bag and accessories.

This past weekend really has been the biggest highlight of the past couple of weeks, particularly because I was so nervous about completing it. I felt less in shape this year than last and I've also been getting over a nasty cold that has left a residual cough. It started raining on Day 2, also, which seemed to exacerbate some of my symptoms. But I proved my worrying to be pointless because not only did I finish just fine (not without a tremendous amount of determination and hardwork though), but also finished the entire 75 miles on Day 1. Last year, we stopped at around 52 or so, riding a SAG vehicle to the overnight. I also had stopped to walk my bike up a couple portions of hills on highway 1 through Muir Woods last year. I really had been disappointed with myself since then and so finishing naturally this year without any car transportation or bike walking really brought the tears of pride early on.

Well enough about the bike ride. I've probably been rambling enough about it on facebook for what seems like forever. But I will just add one more thing. I'm still raising money for another month, so if anyone would still like to donate to a great cause to raise awareness and improve research for multiple sclerosis, then please give me a shout out, or go to the "Bike MS Waves to Wine" box on the left side of my facebook profile. It's really the most amazing event I've participated in to date, honestly, and that's why I can't shut up about it.

In other news, I took a trip to the Pacific Northwest for nearly 3 weeks in August and had such an amazing time, I'm starting to consider moving there again. And before anyone freaks out, let me explain that I'll be moving away anyways if I get into a grad program, and Western Washington is a lot closer than New York. Being in Bellingham again, though, just made me realize how little of that town I actually experienced while there as an 18-19 year old and how I couldn't even tell my friends who drove me up from Seattle where the good beer is! I was quiet, shy, reserved and rather boring when I live there 8 years ago. I worked at Old Navy at the mall and believed that when one wanted books and coffee one goes to Barnes & Noble and Starbucks. I didn't really make any friends other than a few girls I met at the summer camp I'd worked at that first summer living there. I also technically didn't live in Bellingham, but in Deming, thirteen miles east. But there is so much to explore and discover still in this town! I'd really love to experience it again as I am now, a bit more outgoing, more adamant about independent businesses, and definitely a beer drinker.

Portland also requires more exploration and discovery. The only time I really spent in the thick of things was in downtown, around where Powell's is (which is breathtaking and nearly heartstopping, though that may have also been the incredibly rich Voodoo donut I had), and was so polished I nearly forgot I was in a big city. And yet, for a big city, it didn't seem to have many people in it at all. I also took in a Goonies tour out on the coast in Astoria, which, though fun, it was MORE fun to watch the movie again afterwards and cry out, "I was there!" AND there!"

Seattle, as well, is so huge I couldn't possibly see much in just two days. It would certainly be nice to be close to all that jazz. I stayed a night in Redmond with my sister's friend Trevor and wife Lisa and new baby and when Lisa mentioned Snoqualmie Falls (aka Twin Peaks Falls), I immediately knew that we had to go on a Twin Peaks tour. What we couldn't take in that evening, we had to go out again for the next day, and that included the "damn fine cup of coffee" and slice of cherry pie a la mode at Twede's (aka the double R diner) in North Bend. Heavenly!

My brother, Daniel, lives in Seattle, too, when not working for the National Parks. He's working at Mt. Rainier right now and I got to spend a week with him and his girlfriend, Kelsey, up on the mountain. It is beautiful there, if not a little damp. I went for a hike my second day there during which I don't think it stopped raining, drizzling, or misting once. I missed out on spectacular views of the mountain, but all the wetness made the flowers and bushes and trees glimmer like gems, just like these lupine leaves below.

At one point towards the last 3 miles of the hike, a descent on endless switchbacks took me back and forth down an entire hillside of meadow wildflowers. It was a sea of red, yellow, purple and green all dancing under the weight of raindrops. I had to keep stopping just to observe the hectic dance, each flower with its own moves, and listen to the faint static of soft rain. I have to admit, it made me cry just a little to be surrounded by such beauty. That's another reason why I love Washington so much. I actually miss the rain, the damp trees, the rushing rivers, the whispering mist. I remember the first day it snowed. I was upstairs in my room on the computer, and it had been pouring all day, when suddenly it was dead quiet and I knew exactly what had happened. I rushed downstairs and threw open the door and ran out to catch the snowflakes. It didn't stick that day, but I still had to call my mom to share the news. Later in the season, when the snow finally did stick, I remember silent white nights where even with no moon it was bright enough to throw a frisbee around.

Now that I'm home I've been attending classes, looking for a job, and getting ready to volunteer at the high school as a Writing Coach. I'm also still working at the Sleep Lab, though I've only been in one more time after my first shift. Things are a little slow, so here's my shameless plug. If anyone in the Bay Area has or knows of someone that has insomnia and is over 25 years of age, let me know, I'll get you the info to take part in the study! Oh yes, and I'm taking the GRE a week from Saturday. I have not studied much at all, shame on me. But I'm cramming. And with that said, I guess you won't be hearing from me again for AT LEAST a week and a half. ;-)

Unemployment? Ha!

In fact, I have been very employed. After a trip out to the Salton Sea for July 4, then a week in New York (by the way, I really heart New York!!!), I experienced a severe case of internet deficiency syndrome. Fortunately, it was easy (though not so cheap) to remedy, and I am now proud to say "Hi, I'm Kimberly, and I'm a Mac." My sister just stopped in town on her way back to Anaheim and we enjoyed each other's company how we normally do-over lots of food. I am also once again hooked on my computer.

But I've been making good use of that time by arranging my newest travel plans. I will leaving again tomorrow morning for Portland, then Seattle, then Bellingham where I'll hang out with my aunt and uncle and visit my old haunts from when I lived with them after high school for 14 months. Around August 10th, my aunt, uncle, cousin and wife are heading down to Mt. Rainier to camp, but also to drop me off to see my brother, Daniel, who is stationed in Rainier right now as a park ranger, and his girlfriend, Kelsey. While staying with them, I'll take 3 or 4 days to trek out on my first solo backpacking trip. Then I'll head south, hopefully stopping in Portland again, before getting back to Berkeley by the 18th or 19th.

Classes start the 20th! And it will be on to volunteering at Berkeley High and studying hard for the GRE, training up for the Bike MS: Waves to Wine 2009 ride (having trouble getting donations, please let me know if you're interested), and, of course, continuing the job hunt. I don't know if I really want one anymore, though. I feel like I am contributing more to society with what I'm doing now, and as a result am a happier, healthier citizen as well, than I was before. If you feel otherwise, please let me know. Maybe I can contribute to your cause as well.

One door closed. Two open?

Where do I even start? I've gotten a bit behind on the updates. Well, I had an interview (my first since starting to look for a job) at the Seneca Center last week and received a letter this week informing me I would not be getting a second interview. Seneca Center is a therapy center that provides unconditional support for emotionally disturbed children and their families. These kids can be pretty aggressive and inconsistent because they haven't received consistent nurture and instead have learned not to trust anyone. I am not too disappointed that I won't be working there, but not because of the kids! I am happy that I pursued it and was prepared for taking on this kind of challenge, but I also may have been getting in over my head. I haven't worked in direct contact with children for 7 years, and even then they were well behaved and not emotionally disturbed. I have the heart, I just don't have the experience. In fact, I was feeling nervous, worried, doubtful and anxious about being offered a position, or rather, about being able to do the job, so maybe this is a path I'm not ready to go down yet. Someday, though, I really hope to help kids who either fit into this "emotionally disturbed" category or have learning disabilities because I believe behavior does not make the person and is not permanent. It is something we learn, and something we can unlearn and relearn.

And so, in response to the overwhelming nature of my last job pursuit, I have an interview on Monday at the very UC Berkeley Sleep Lab where I just started as a volunteer research assistant. Apparently, they are in dire need of a Project Coordinator, a position that entails a lot of what I do now and uses a lot of the skills I've developed at Apress. Plus, it's in the Psychology department and I'd be working closely with volunteers, research subjects and Psych department staff and faculty! I could also audit Psych classes on campus during my lunch hours. I will hopefully find out Monday how flexible my hours could be, as well, to find out if I would still be able to volunteer at Berkeley High School and take a day class or two at Berkeley City College. I don't want to get my hopes up too much, but...fingers crossed!

I also submitted an application to Half Price Books in downtown Berkeley for some inane reason. No, I know the reason. I LOVE BOOKS! And I know how to work in a bookstore so I need hardly any training. I figure that if the Sleep Lab gig doesn't work and this does, the position is full time, provides full benefits, and I most likely would have a more flexible schedule to do all the previously said things about classes and volunteering.

This is my last weekend as an Apress employee. It is bittersweet, but I am ready for this era to be over. Just four more days suckers!

Life is good

I don't have any specific reasons for why life is good, but I forget sometimes that I'm healthy, more or less content, and have the freedom to do a lot of what I want. If I end up suffering emotionally, it's probably due to my perspective and not because I "have it rough." I saw a bumper sticker one day while running. It said, "Don't change the way you look; change the way you see."

Dreams

I had an endless line up of dreams last night all the way up to my alarm. Okay, actually all the way past two snoozes, then turning it off completely, and getting up for work an hour and a half late. It was like ABC's TGIF night, but without ordering pizza.

Every so often, I have these "slews" of dreams, and they usually are what makes me late in the morning. I just have to see what happens next! And of course, most of the time, if I try to fall back asleep to conclude the previous dream, I end up having an entirely new one that I absolutely have to find out what happens next in. I think that might be a result of my dreams tending to be about me A) trying frantically to find something in a very disorganized room, B) searching for or running from someone in a building with maze-like hallways and staircases, or C) having some sort of social interaction in which something needs to be resolved between me and the person. This makes absolute sense, because if I were doing any of those things in real life, you better believe I'm going to be late for work. :-P

The most prominent dream came right before I woke up the first time, probably shortly before my alarm went off. I was walking down the street with a group of friends that included my brother's girlfriend, Emelia. We saw a short distance away a woman in her late forties or so close to tears and clutching a watering can. Some people in our group started to make jokes about why and then turned down another street, but I hung around and Emelia stayed with me. I walked over to the woman and asked her, "Are you okay? Is there anything I can get you? Soup or soda? Anything?" She said it was awfully kind of me and that she could really go for a charbroiled something or other (I can't quite remember). I said I'd go get that for her, but before leaving I asked her if she wouldn't mind telling me what was going on. Clutching the can even more tightly, she said she just lost her husband and the service was going on inside the building she was facing. She started bawling so I just wrapped my arms around her as tightly as I could, and as she buried her face in my shoulder, she sobbed and rambled and mumbled and sniffled. I thanked her for sharing and then, and this is the part that I can't figure out, I took a drink from her watering can. I said I would be right back with, and I had to ask what she wanted again, a charbroiled something or other, but she said I didn't need to do that, but that it was awfully kind of me to offer. We looked at each other, I offered another hug which she accepted, and after a few moments she quickly turned to leave, sans watering can. I went back to Emelia, who had watched the whole thing, and she said, "She is sooooo pissed at you for getting her to open up to someone." I looked back and the woman was nearly 25 years younger and was just linking arms with a young guy and they walked off together. I told Emelia, "Maybe she is pissed now because she doesn't want that guy to see her upset, but she was not pissed just now in the moment."

I've been told that the best way to interpret dreams is to see every aspect of the dream as an aspect of yourself. And that aspect could be anything from external information you have taken in from movies and other media or walking down the street or being with friends to internal thoughts and opinions and interpretations about those experiences. For instance, if you see your friend, Charlie, it could represent not just Charlie, but all your own thoughts, memories, and opinions about Charlie and what Charlie means to you. The last time I interpreted a dream that way, it was a very intense, violent, and graphic dream (let me know if you want to hear about that one-the teaser is giving birth out of my thigh), and once I made the self-centric interpretation, I felt it made a lot of sense and was less scary. This dream wasn't scary, just a new topic for me. I don't know that I've made many empathetic approaches to people in need in my dreams, at least not on this scale.

My best conclusion is that the dream symbolizes my recent developments in emotional intelligence, an area I have been experiencing difficulty in for a number of years. (I don't want to go on too much of a tangent, but for context, Daniel Goleman, in his book Emotional Intelligence, explains that "emotional intelligence is the capacity for recognizing our own feelings and those of others, for motivating ourselves, and for managing emotions well in ourselves and in our relationships.") If I view every aspect of the dream as an aspect of myself, I think my dream expresses my growing capacity to manage feelings, and for the following reasons. First, I approached the woman, or myself in this sad state, regardless of other friends making jokes about her; they represent my own negative thoughts about whether or not this is an acceptable state to be in or whether I have a good reason to be sad or not. Secondly, I offered her soup or soda, something that might take care of her physical needs. People in extreme emotional states can forget about hunger, thirst and tiredness while getting caught up in their mind. I also offered her consolation in the form of a hug and allowed her to let out tears and words, even if I couldn't understand them. This allowed the feelings to just be, instead of trying to make logical sense of them. The watering can that she clutches to so tightly must be the ability to heal or grow, which she has at hand but hasn't used yet. I end up personally drinking from it, possibly to draw the connection that my healing is her healing. She has lost her husband. I take this to represent the many things coming to an end in my life right now, particularly my job, that I have not yet mourned over completely, though others around me are doing so and moving on. Once I gave myself consolement and support and drank the healing elixir (that makes me laugh just typing it-see? I laugh at myself a lot :-P) , I move on, even look 20-25 years younger, which from late forties is about my age now. Emelia, who is present I think because she has qualities I admire and wish to emulate, because we have been "studying" similar topics as of late, and I also know her to be a supportive companion, asked a question that reveals my self-doubt and fear in offering such empathy to a stranger, that they would not appreciate it. I respond with confidence that I remember the minute before when she was sincerely bawling her eyes out and mumbling into my shoulder, and I know she is grateful, content, and able to move on.

My other dreams consisted of a Cylon staircase chase, a pink sweet sixteen dress with attached necktie, roller coaster amusement park parking lot tram, a plastic bowl of leftover thai coconut soup, and a few others whose details have blurred into oblivion. Needless to say, they were not as revealing as this one.

A few positive updates

I'm very glad for some of the work I did today and some of the news I received because yesterday was my lowest of lows in a long while. I stayed home from work. I did nothing. I stared at the ceiling. Then I stared at the carpet. Then I decided I should hang up my towel and get dressed. And yes, I realize those two sentences are oddly placed together, but no, that's not what I meant. I actually stared at the carpet. on my floor. After getting dressed, I turned on the computer and stared at it. I watched some Daily Show episodes on Hulu. Then I watched some Twin Peaks episodes. And then I fell asleep for three hours. Bored yet? I'm getting to the good stuff, just hold steady. But yeah, let's just say MENTAL HEALTH DAY FTW.

Earlier this week, on Tuesday, I went to a New Volunteer Orientation for the Berkeley School District and I have hopes to be placed in a program this Fall, either as a writing coach with high school students or in special ed. A guy at my work also put me in touch with his wife, who works at a high school in the bay area with kids who have behavioral and learning disabilities, so there is a chance I could volunteer there, too. How that will end up fitting with any 9-5 job I might get in the meantime, I'm not sure, but as for now I'm going to ignore high hopes of a job and just let things go as they go.

Speaking of a JOB, today I received a call from one of the places I applied to a couple weeks ago, and now I have an interview next week! I guess I just have to go out and buy some interview clothes (right, Emelia?). I'm pretty stoked about the interview because this is the job I've been most interested in. I won't go into too much, but it's a therapy center that works with emotionally troubled kids in their own environments-school, home, recreation, you name it.

I am also scheduled next week for my very first Research Assistant shift at the Harvey Sleep and Psychological Disorders Lab on UC Berkeley campus, a volunteer position I mention in my second or third post.

Just the perfect little blossom of good stuff to "turn that frown upside down" and help me feel once again that progress is underway. My horoscope today (which I swear I can't avoid because it's dead center of my google home page :-P) says,

"You may feel conflicted today because your goals don't seem practical enough. You have a strong desire to increase the amount of meaning in your life now, but the options to do this are not necessarily supported by your current job. Unfortunately, you cannot just walk away, for you have financial obligations that must be met. Don't get discouraged if you have to continue on your present path for a while longer; your time for change will come."

I don't need a horoscope to tell me that! But yeah, it is encouraging.

My favorite ways to stay motivated

YES. This week IS better. Don't know how, but I must have gotten sick of the pouty face I had going on for the last two weeks. It just doesn't match the clothes I have that are still clean. That and maybe the pint of ice cream I had last night wasn't sitting right. Well, that being said, I'd like to tell you all the many ways one might maintain motivation and productivity. And by "one," I basically mean myself, but if it works for you too, great!

1. Work on work that is actually for the company you work for. Funny how that isn't a given.

2. Eat oatmeal for breakfast. With brown sugar and raisins. And drink some English breakfast tea. Two cups.

3. If writing a cover letter, let friends read it and give you their opinions. This not only let's you be social while "working," it also eases the pressure of applying to said job when at least one other person thinks your letter doesn't suck.

4. Drink lots of water. You NEED it. In the least, it gives an excuse to get up off your butt to go to the bathroom a lot, which means more time walking around and less time working on the butt shaped indent in your office chair.

5. Smell the flowers. I'm dead serious. The jasmine on my street is INCREDIBLE. Ahhhh... Oh yeah, and identify the mourning dove whose call you keep hearing. And hug a tree. :-P And pet a cat.

6. Exercise, even if you don't want to. This is a tough one some days.

7. Talk to your mom. Or someone you love. I just so happened to talk to my mom today, who very kindly put some books on hold for me at The Bookman. And there's number 8.

8. Read. Which I am about to do!

9. Talk to your friends and family about what motivates you.

Okay, this may just be what I did today. But it was a pretty good day, so it must be all these things, right?? I forgot the most important thing though:

10. Love yourself, even when you aren't motivated. Love yourself for being unmotivated sometimes. I think that's how we take a break from life to actually live and reflect.

Loss of motivation is a downward spiral

I ran yesterday after a week and a half off. In the past, a week and a half has not felt like a long time, since I've gone months and months without running sometimes. This time, I felt it all the way up into my brain.

It's been three weeks since the news of the office closing. The first week was optimistic, but last week was a tortuous spin out of control into 3 hour lunches, countless in-office powwows, and a bunch of frowns all around. I think I even let my brain "archive" all the information I need to perform my job without getting scatterbrained, so this week, one in which I've determined to be productive and motivated, I found work a little hard because of loss of information, not motivation. It is tough when management is talking about "bringing up the numbers" while the unquantifiable numbers of the work horses are sadly decreasing.

My point? Is there one? I can write a blog every now and then without a point, right? Well, my point is that I didn't run for a week and I also had the lowest, most unmotivated week at work as well. Chicken or the egg? Well, I find it's easier to finally push myself to put the running shoes on and enjoy the sunshine than to pull up that one document that has made me want to puke for the last 5 days.

Yesterday, we were sent home from the office a little after 1pm because there was a major power outage on our street. Getting home that early made me antsy and restless and I went out on a run, going farther than I usually do. When I got home, I folded laundry, took out the trash, and vacuumed. I'd also sent out my first resume and cover letter that morning while we still had power.

This brings up another theory. When I spend a full day at the office feeling unmotivated and unproductive, working on tasks that I feel DO NOT move me forward with my goals, by the time I get home I am unable to muster the energy to do anything. Because I never really "got started" so I can't maintain momentum if there has been no acceleration. And all I can say to that is, is it July 3 yet so I can move on with my life?

My ship is sinking...but floating on a raft doesn't sound so bad

Last Thursday, I received news that my office is closing. Completely. Entirely. Caput. Once the announcement and a few follow up words were said, I immediately raced to the bathroom to bawl for several minutes. I didn't want to go back in. I wanted to be furious and depressed and show them how horrible they were being. As soon as I finished that thought, the crying stopped. So I marched back in and went to another meeting, one for the "transition team" of about 15 people that are staying around until July 3. Everyone else had to pack up and leave that day.

My coworker said it all when he mentioned that it's not losing his job he's concerned about as much as he feels he is losing his family. It's true! We spend 1/3 of our lives and 1/2 of our average waking hours at the office. And like I said in the previous entry, I wouldn't be putting up with this cubicle if it weren't for the people I get to work with.

I left at 12pm on Thursday, intending to go grab a beer with Mike before packing for my weekend trip (Santa Cruz Island-Channel Islands National Park), and talked to my sister and my mom on the phone while waiting for him. Being away from the office, and also talking to my sister, gave me great perspective on my situation. The tears, I think, were really for my "family" and what they must be going through as well--individuals with families that most likely were relying on stability at their job for years to come, everyone who had to pack up and say goodbye for good that day, people away on vacation, mid-travel and maternity leave that wouldn't find out for another few hours or days. That's the part that tears me up inside. As far as I am concerned personally, I'm probably in the best situation out of anyone. I'm more relieved and excited than anything else. Here's why:

1. Wasn't my last blog post about how much I complain about my job and how miserable I am in a cubicle??? This is just the answer!

2. I don't have to worry anymore about compromising my loyalty to my company. While I was concerned about taking other jobs and making time in my schedule for more volunteer projects and ways to increase my foundation of knowledge in the psychology field because I felt I'd made a commitment to this company in every new responsibility I volunteered to take on, I don't have don't have to worry about those conflicting feelings anymore.

3. This is seriously the fire lit under my ass to make some bigger changes in my life and even lifestyle. I will no longer be a cube farm gopher!

4. Backpacking! I think I might take a little time off for some adventuring.

The best part about my feelings toward my situation is that I'm not scared. Yes, I'm a bit nervous, which is understandable and healthy, but my usual debilitating fear of the unknown is M.I.A. for this.

My heart goes out to those who may have fewer options and opportunities. But as my fortune cookie told me last month, "You will make change for the better." It couldn't have been more right.

Forging new trails...and leaving the ruts behind

I complain about my job at least once every other day. It's really not a bad job, though. My office is pretty casual. We wear jeans and t-shirts, and sometimes don't change out of our clothes from the mid-day jog; we work 9-5 with sometimes an hour lunch; in fact, some of us work closer to 10-6, and it's not a problem. The work itself, though it requires good focus and attention to detail, is not difficult and I've become very reliable and efficient at what I do. I have formed long term professional relationships with people in other states and countries via email. I sometimes get to contact authors for addresses to ship their free copies to them and help track down shipments that seem to be MIA, a task that enables me to exercise my interpersonal skills. But for the most part, there is a lot of down time. So, it's not the work that kills me, it's the lack of it.

I also don't feel useful. I know I am, though. I've been rewarded a good number of times with bonuses, a promotion, and also many verbal expressions of gratitude for my contributions. I want to help, but the computer book world is not my place. I don't understand the business world and find myself in confusing corporate conflicts from time to time. It's not my language. I want to speak my language. My mother can attest to the fact that I do have a language. Though after all these years I use English to communicate instead of a gibberish known as "Kimberlese," I believe it is still my unique language. I've been trying to be understood for many years in these worlds that just don't speak it. No wonder I've been full of aggression and frustration. Even my love of books was not enough to be an English Major. I needed to speak a different language-one that I clearly wasn't comfortable with.

After months of complaining about my job, and then being rewarded for it, I've made a huge and possibly the most important decision to date regarding the direction my life will go. I'm going back to school to study Psychology. I'm going to learn in my language and I'm going to express what I learn in my language. My focus right now is to become a school guidance counselor, but there are many other paths I'm sure will open up along the way.

My biggest fear about entering the field of Psychology is that I have no experience, no background except an Intro to Psych class at community college. I've imagined jumping into deep and dark water with choppy waves, and oh, did I mention I lose my glasses too? I am completely weak-limbed and blind in my made-up scenario. I don't know why I was being so stupid about it. It's pretty clear that if you know you can't swim, then you should probably start in the kiddie pool. But that's just me. I like things to happen fast, almost instantaneously. When my mom began piano lessons, I used to work with her books and teach myself, but I sucked and I abandoned it for the most part. Mom said that it required a lot of practice, commitment, and most importantly patience, which I was always in need of. "But I want to be good right away! I want to be a virtuoso! If I'm not at piano, I'll go find what I am a virtuoso at." There's only one thing I'm naturally adept at: being impatient.

So off to the kiddie pool I go. But let me tell you, there are a lot of fun activities going on there! Way more fun, I think, than being scared out of my mind, flailing my arms and legs in the deep end where I can't see shit. Since I made my decision, I have taken two Psych courses-Lifespan Human Development and Social Psychology-at Berkeley City College with another one planned for this Fall-Psychology of Childhood. I've researched graduate programs up the wazoo and even created a spreadsheet for them! I've registered for the Graduate Record Examination and am taking it in September; I've been studying vocab nearly every day. A friend who works in the neuroscience department at UC Berkeley put me in touch with a new professor who in turn put me in touch with the Sleep and Psychological Disorders Lab where I have an interview for a Research Assistant position. Another friend who is graduating in Psych from Cal this May put me in touch with the Director of Student Services in the Psych department and we are meeting next Wednesday over coffee so we can discuss my options, opportunities, and also what else I can be doing to increase my experience and knowledge. I'm attending a New Volunteer Orientation for the Berkeley School District in June and will choose a Fall program to offer my services to. And though it doesn't have anything to do directly with eventually applying and entering a grad program, I have taken up running again, realizing it promotes my mental health as well as physical. I take the motivation I develop on a run and apply it to the rest of my activities.

Though it is mostly a lot of networking, I feel just this amount of progress will be the catalyst to me entering a world that makes immense sense, and I'm brimming with excitement to share the news with people.

For Emphasis

In typography, serifs are details at the end of strokes in letters and symbols. The explanations for why they developed range from being a result of printing methods (brushing on stone blocks and etching in wood), helping fluidly guide the reader's eyes through the letters and words, to offering pure decorative purposes; fonts with this detail are used mainly for the body of text.

Sans-serif fonts are used mostly for larger type--headlines, titles, and shorter pieces of text--because they are usually bolder, more emphatic, but also more casual and less formal. It just so happens that sans-serif fonts are also easier to read on the computer screen.

I'd like to dedicate this blog to the sans-serif. I serve this blog on some plain white rice (or brown if that's what you like) complete as it is without garnish and frippery, wholly prepared to both please and nourish. As I become more comfortable in my own skin, less nervous about making horrendously bad decisions, and bolder, more emphatic about the future, I realize what a sincere approach to life might look like. I am taking a step toward being completely honest with myself about my interests, opinions and beliefs, so that I might share with those around me with the utmost honesty and without all the empty flourish. I realize the empowerment that comes with knowing how to articulate my opinions, but also that any one opinion may change within a matter of minutes, depending on what new information comes my way.

I hope you come along with me in these explorations.