My therapist is stalking me

Like all good "middle-class poor" Manhattanites, I have a therapist to whom I bemoan the frailty of the world, question the reasons behind my subtle rebellion against The Machine and debate how much of the blame belongs to my mother.

As of late, I have been feeling distinctly unsatisfied by our encounters. I am doing nothing but complaining about the same things over and over, and what little she provides in practical advice is impossible to attempt to accomplish between my demanding schedule of school, work, the gym, and a soupçon of a social life. In fact, not getting a chance to attempt to put into practice any pearls of wisdom she might blithely toss my way is the least of my problems. I'm so busy that I don't even have time to work her appointment into my schedule (she's only available on Tuesdays), let alone THINK about any of her gems. And so it went, week after week, month after month. So I decided there was only one thing I could do.

I had to break up with my therapist.

This is not as easy as one might imagine. It's much like trying to end a romantic relationship. While there were no tears or recriminations, there was much discussion of "why?" and "I don't think that's the real reason" and "we're probably on the verge of something very difficult for you and you're backing away because you're afraid to face it" and "I don't think stopping is a good idea." All of which is frightfully boring and mostly inaccurate, but after being showered with it for two weeks, I pulled the classic "I just need some time to myself" and told her I wanted to take a little hiatus.

You can imagine the questions that came on the heels of that pronouncement.

Finally, she says, "Well, I know from experience that once you've made your mind up, I can talk until the cows come home and I won't change it." (Oh, so she has learned something about me in all our time together!)

The first Tuesday, she calls me up and says that in response to my phone call that she can see me at 4:30 PM instead of the usual 2:45. MY phone call??? Yes, the one you left on January XX.


The reader will please note that at this point the message she's referring to is, literally, a week old. Either she's really bad at listening to her messages in a timely manner or she's looking for an excuse to contact me.

I clear up the "confusion" and she asks me if she will see me the following week. I say probably not.

The next Tuesday she calls and leaves a message on my VM saying that I missed my appointment and to call her the next day before noon. I call after noon and remind her that I was going to be taking a break from our sessions.

Before she can annoy me the following Tuesday, I send her an e-mail acknowledging that I know this is not the preferred method she would like me to use for contacting her, but that I'm so busy it's my only choice, and I will definitely be too busy to see her for another two weeks and I will keep in touch and let her know what's going on. She e-mails back that she hopes to see me the week of February XX, which would be the week after the two weeks I told her I was blowing off.

Well, we made it through those two weeks without incident. This past Tuesday, however, I get another phone call telling me that I missed my session and that I need to call her the next day before noon. This time I don't bother to call at all because I didn't miss a damn thing. I re-read my e-mail carefully and it clearly says I will contact her and let her know when she might expect me.

Apparently not calling is not an option, because she then sends me an e-mail saying that we need to discuss re-establishing our sessions.

ChristAlmightyGod. I haven't been seeing a psychotherapist, I've been seeing a PSYCHO THERAPIST!

While it makes for good anecdotal amusement, this obviously cannot continue. I don't want to deal with her tomorrow, so I will have to see her the following week and put a stop to this. I don't get easily creeped out, but she's creeping me out.

If I suddenly disappear, I trust I can count on you all to be my spokespersons. Tell the police the first place to check is under the floorboards of my therapist's office. And try and get the story on an episode of "Forensic Files" or "The Investigators" or "The New Detectives." That would at least give my woeful tale a hit of cool.

Happy Chinese New Year!

This year is the Year of the Pig (or Boar, if you want something that doesn't sound quite so...piggy)

It's supposed to be really cool to be born in a Pig Year as you get all of these great characteristics (thanks to everyone's favorite encyclopedia, wikipedia, for the following info):

The Boar type is usually an honest, straightforward and patient person. They are a modest, shy character who prefers to work quietly behind the scenes. When others despair, they are often there to offer support. This type of person is reserved with those they do not know too well, but as time passes and they gain confidence, those around them may discover a lively and warm-hearted person behind that mask of aloofness. Despite those born in the year of pig having a wide circle of friends and acquaintances, they have few close friends who understand them and share their inner thoughts and feelings. It is easy to put trust in pig type; they won't let you down and will never even attempt to do so. Such people simply want to do everything right according to social norms.

It is important to remember that these people are not vengeful creatures. If someone tries to take advantage of them, the pig type tend to withdraw to reflect on the problem and protect themselves. All they need in such situations is a little time to find a constructive way to respond. The people of the pig type are conservative creatures of habit. They dislike being made to travel too far from familiar surroundings, unless it is a trip to the countryside. They love nature and are never happier than when they are out somewhere, far from the city.

There is a tolerant and peaceful side to their character. Such people are never afraid to allow others their freedom of expression; they do not want to cause arguments and if there is any way to avoid arguing, they will probably take this option. They are not weak, however, and if the situation forces them to fight these people will rise to the occasion, whether it is to defend themselves or those close to them. People of the Boar type are the most admired by others.

I, personally, was born in the Year of the Horse, which has sent ripples through my life in many unexpected ways. Long story short, the horse is my totem animal (or, more accurately, my spirit guide), and nothing on this Earth would make me happier than retiring from this hum drum work-a-day life and living on a couple of acres with a big farmhouse, some dogs, cats and horses.

Oh what dreamers we mortals be!

Now things are just getting OOC

I'd like to preface this post by stating that my grandfather was blind, so I am not unfamiliar with, nor unsympathetic to, the issues affecting the poor-sighted and sightless. That said, this sh*t is totally whack!

November 30, 2006, 8:33 am
reports the USA Today. The opinion could force the government to change the design of U.S. greenbacks; one option would be to have different size bills, just like the rest of the world.
The government said the changes would cost too much. But Judge James Robertson said the need to make money accessible to the blind outweight the costs. “Blind or visually impaired people cannot make effective use of American currency without help,” he wrote in the 26-page ruling. “There was a time when disabled people had no choice but to ask for help — to rely on the ‘kindness of strangers.’ It was thought to be their lot. “We have evolved, however, and Congress has made our evolution official.”

The government says it hasn’t decided whether it will appeal the decision. Vending machine operators are bummed, reports the USA Today. The case was brought by an organization called the American Council of the Blind, but another group, the National Federation of the Blind, criticized the ruling. Said its president, Dr. Marc Maurer:

The blind need jobs and real opportunities to earn money, not feel-good gimmicks that misinform the public about our capabilities. . . . This ruling puts a roadblock in the way of solving the real problem, which is the seventy percent unemployment rate among working-age blind Americans that severely limits our access to cash. The ruling will do nothing to alleviate that situation. . . . It argues that the blind cannot handle currency or documents in the workplace and that virtually everything must be modified for the use of the blind.

Comments

Instead of making different bills and thereby making them more susceptible to counterfitting, the mint should make coins in the same denominations as regular bills.
Comment by B. Markley - November 30, 2006 at 10:12 am

this case was the first thing i thought of when i woke up this morning…coins are the solution
Comment by on the brain... - November 30, 2006 at 12:10 pm

Are federal rulings published in Braille?
Comment by Fahrenheit 450 - November 30, 2006 at 2:24 pm

Until the prices are put in Braille, how do I know I’m not being overcharged?
Comment by Hellen Keller - November 30, 2006 at 2:41 pm

Thank you, Dr. Marc Maurer, Fahrenheit 450 and Helen Keller. At least three people realize the absolute absurdity of this ruling.

Wordsmith that I am, I cannot adequately express my extreme disgust with this ruling and with other legalities of its ilk. Isn't there some theory that all Men are created equal? How can we say that with a straight face at the same time we are carving out exceptions left, right and sideways for every "special interest" group? Or worse, while we are creating "special interest" groups without the input or request of the people affected?

And, moral tenets aside, is not creating an entirely new currency the single most impractical answer to this issue??? Even the suggestion to create or make more readily available coins in the same denominations as our bills is ill conceived. I hate carrying around the change from a few cash transactions...I cannot even imagine the annoyance and physical strain of carrying around a bag full of coins all the time. For reasons that are not immediately important, I have $1,100 in my wallet right now. How much would that weigh in coinage?

Will the real SuperMilkChan PLEASE STAND UP?

Guess who's back!
Back again!
MilkChan's back!
Tell a friend!
Guess who's back!
Guess who's back!
Guess who's back!
Guess who's back!
Guess who's back!
Guess who's back!
Guess who's back!
Nah nah nah!

Hey Kats and Kittens! It's been a long time since I left you (without a def beat to step to!) But I have crawled out from under six staggering weeks of overtime at work and am getting back to re-establishing a normal routine. It's going to be a little odd not being in the office at 2 AM or on weekends, but I'm going to try very, very hard to get over it.

---

There's so much to catch up on...I hardly know where to begin! Lessee...my b-day party on December 9th was both successful AND a blast. Invitation text below:

Into each life a birthday must fall.

Join me to celebrate mine at Flute Midtown Champagne Lounge from 7:00 PM to 9:00 PM on Friday, December 8, 2006. (Flute is on 54th Street between 7th Avenue and Broadway. Subway directions can be found on the site)

There will be wine and song and yummy hors d'oeuvres, cake and chocolate truffles and many toasts to the birthday girl. This will be THE event of the season and is not to be missed!
PLEASE RSVP BY TUESDAY, DECEMBER 5TH, 2006 and indicate whether you will be bringing someone along!

(And should you think I'm too modest to accept presents, think again.)
mille baisers, SMC

[If you're into visuals, click here.]

A fabulous party with the perfect mix of people, food, drink and conversation. Made better by the (insane) generosity of my friend, Doug, who made me a present of two bottles of Cristal. It apparently impressed the little wait-chick who, wide-eyed, asked me if I wanted to keep the empty bottles, "They're so pretty!" To placate her, I gave her a pasted-on smile and said yes, that would be lovely just put them on that table over there. Good thing I really didn't want them, as one of the other waitstaffers deleted them from the picture.

Between me, Doug and my crew, we easily blew $2,500. Seeing as how it was only a 90-minute party, I would think that would have at least garnered a follow-up e-mail from Dacotah, Flute's party planner. Personally, if I were her, I would want me to be a repeat customer. And I damn sure would take five minutes out of my day to e-mail, call or (better yet) mail out a personal note with my business card inside.

But that's why no one will ever put me in charge of anything. Because I know how to actually do sh*t right.

I'm still having difficulty saying the age thing, but the truth has slowly been leaking out here and there. I figure that just before my next birthday I will be able to say it out loud to anyone.

---

School started the first week of January, and I was looking forward to a cakewalk semester. "Tax Aspects of Charitable Giving" and "Estate Planning" (which I am retaking because the letter "C" and I don't get along well). Charitable Giving...that's gonna be what? Some white-haired professor wistfully noting the benefits of philanthropy, right?

WRONGWRONGWRONG.

My Charitable Giving professor is probably in her late 40's, a full-time professor (as opposed to most of my other profs who are full-time hot shot law firm partners and part-time educators), and not only talks more quickly than any human being should be allowed to, but has the nerve to MUMBLE on occasion! Even better, she REQUIRES class participation (which means I actually have to be prepared for class) and she PROHIBITS recording the class. So I have this incredibly complex and archaic system of Code and Reg sections relating to charitable donations being spouted at me by a woman who speaks too quickly for me to take notes but will not allow herself to be taped.

Ordinarily, I am a respecter of other people's requests, but if I don't want to flunk this class, I think I'm going to have to go 007 and hide my digital recorder in the wrapper of a Snickers bar. If I get busted, I'm sure I will get thrown out of the class. I may even get thrown out of school. But what are my other options??? Any words of wisdom you might have to offer are more than welcome. Please share.

Estate Planning, on the other hand, I get to tape and use my notes from the last time I took it. Although it had no pre-requisites, I'm finding I understand a lot of topics better by virtue of having taken the classes I have since the first go-round. I not only KNOW what DNI is, but I know how to calculate it. I know about the taxation of trusts and how to determine if they are outright gifts, contingent gifts, terminable interest property, blah blah blah. It's kind of neat to realize that you actually understand what's happening as opposed to thinking you understand. I totally better get an A this time.

---

New Year's Eve was interesting. Neither fabulous nor a flop. I joined one of my kid sisters at her apartment where she was entertaining about a dozen of her friends from Boston. They were all pretty cool, but I was feeling somewhat lonely, being date-less yet again on NYE. Being alone and meeting a dozen people at once who have all been close friends for years on the Ultimate Date Night is a little disconcerting. While I did absolutely fall in love with Jessica, her sister, Emily, and her gf, Kristen, it still wasn't the same. And since I'm far too civilized to get drunk on champagne, I spent a lot of time wondering if David P. had really dared to do the crowd in Times Square as he told me he planned to, and how different my night would be if he'd had the good sense to either take me up on my invitation to join my sister's party or invite me to share his dementia in the Square. Under NO CIRCUMSTANCES WHATSOEVER would I ever do Times Square on NYE...unless someone super-hot invited me. Hear that David? Someone uber-hot!!! When will you finally get it through your thick head that THIS MEANS YOU???!!!

I did, however, get a modicum of enjoyment from the shoes I was wearing...I co-opted them from a cousin at Christmas...they're clear strappy sandals with those cool flashing lights (like the kids have on their sneakers) in the heel. Every time I took a step, I sparkled. I am exceedingly fond of anything that shimmers, sparkles, flashes or glitters. If you ever want my attention, wave a piece of sequined material at me. If you ever want my undying devotion, put glitter on my gift. Hell, make a few containers OF glitter my gift!

SuperMilkChan's Personal Belief #1: The world doesn't have enough glitz. Put more glitter on it.

---

There are one or two other amusing anecdotes that transpired during the past two month hiatus I've taken, but I shall have to reserve them for my next post. I'm determined to enjoy what's left of Day Two of my two days off because I've worked an insane number of hours for the past month and a half, and there is a "John Doe" mini-marathon on SciFi and several weeks' worth of the new seasons of "Prison Break" (starring the same guy who plays John Doe) and "24" sitting around in digital form just waiting to be viewed.

I'm going to go get me a big ole' bowl of Banana Nut Crunch mixed with Raisin, Pecan and Walnut Great Grains and settle down to be a couch potato for a few hours.

Ah...it's good to have my old life back...