it takes courage to grow up and become who you really are. -e.e. cummings

Last night I finished my last therapy session. I had my inner child party and it was fun. We had cupcakes and pomegranate and blueberry punch. We made pictures frames and began a collage. As I was talking to my friend on the way to therapy I mentioned that I did not sob or cry in therapy (and I was a little disappointed--I guess I really did want to resolve everything at once). I mentioned this to my therapist and she laughed. Then reminded me that I am not really a sobber, I am more of a laugher in the face of adversity. Which is true, but I am still bummed I didn't have that great cathartic cry.

As of 6pm tonight I am officially Dr. Lorelai. I am more excited about this than graduating last month. Maybe because I knew I wasn't technically graduating when I walked. Tonight my dad and some friends had a celebratory dinner. I really wanted a glass of wine but I had a crazy sinus headache, so I had coffee instead (that felt like a pretty grown-up drink). We talked shop and my dad would interject with refernces from Fraiser and the Bob Newhart Show. He really loved Fraiser.

Not only will I be an official doctor but I also have a job for the next 5 years (yeah job security). It was a position I really wanted, but yesterday when I found out it was mine I began to panic. I don't really feel like Dr. Lore yet. Most of the time I feel like I'm winging it.

Now that I am a doctor my first order of business is to borrow money from my dad to pay rent for the next 2 months. Which maybe another reason I don't feel quite like a grown-up yet.

Here's to choosing wisely, and becoming the person you were born to be.

Forgive Me Father For I have Sinned

Tonight I lied about my age on the elliptical machine at the gym. I was going to be working out next to a guy who looked okay (as in not 85 like the men I usually work out with), and there was no way in hell the true number was coming out. The number I choose was way way off too. More like the dream rather than reality. I really need to wake up early and work out. I'm always a hit with the seniors in the morning.

Because 10 Million Flies Can't Be Wrong

I was told that this was the slogan to the restaurant I dined at Saturday night. It was pretty accurate.

I also ended up being a chaperone on my dad's date. I thought it was a family dinner with her kids too, but instead I was a third wheel. I told my dad it made me feel uncomfortable, and I kid you not he said, "That wasn't a date!" To which I replied, "Did you not eat dinner and then dance with your girlfriend? Pretty much the definition of a date."

Things I Heard At Dinner Tonight

The premise: My brother and his brood came into town for a funeral tomorrow (and though my mother has been practicing singing, it was not my grandfather who passed away). It was decided that dinner tonight would be for my mom's side of the family. While at work I received about 12 phone calls, all telling me dinner was at 7pm (and that was all every message said). My mother even found the number to the school I (am almost) graduated from and called there as well. Finally I called her and told her I was seeing clients and I would be there. She immediately called me back and asked me to look on the internet for plans to an easy to assemble parakeet aviary. I reminded her I was seeing clients and couldn't do that then tried to shut my phone off.

So now onto to dinner. My mother is apparently losing her hearing and shouted the entire meal. Mostly she shouted about how great her dentures look.
She also talked about:
Her IBS (and all the foods she couldn't eat because of it)
Her anxiety (and why she could only eat at Applebee's because of her panic attacks)
The song she will sing at my grandfather's funeral (and how no one wants to sing with her)
How great her dentures look (and was there any food in them?)
Uncomfortable comments about my aunt and uncle having money (and how they were paying for dinner)
Uncomfortable comments about her being poor (and how she couldn't afford to pay for dinner)
She also drank 2 amaretto shots and then said she needed to be driven home. (My aunt was chosen to play dd, but then my mom said she was okay)

And to top it off every conversation also had to be repeated because my cousin who is partially deaf refuses to wear hearing aids but wants to know what every one is talking about.

The twins (who are about 5 months old) screamed for the first 2 hours. A chandelier bulb shattered near our table and I am half convinced their crying caused it.

I walked away full (the new shrimp salad is good), but with a headache. Good times.

Random Work Thoughts

Yesterday a client farted in my office. It wasn't subtle either I actually saw his leg lift up right before it happened (I always think of dogs urinating when people do that). He said, "Excuse me" and I probably just looked blank (I was trying not to giggle). Working with kids I have been coughed on, sneezed on, cried on, and had toys thrown around me. But never has an adult farted in my general direction.

Today we had a surprise wedding shower for a coworker. She has actually been married for 10 months but we found out about it 2 weeks ago. I love parties, so I planned it. I sent out emails talking about the SURPRISE PARTY and please keep quiet. As we began to eat lunch it was mentioned that the day after I sent the email someone talked to her about it. I actually felt rage in my heart (for a second anyway). I knew I had to be nice and laugh it off, but I wanted to kick him out in shame. It made me realize I am too intense to plan parties. It really was a fun party. The fun part was I got everything at the dollar store. Sure the decorations were cheesy, but that's the look I was going for.

I have 2.5 weeks of work left. This year has gone by so fast, and I can't believe it's almost over. I completed all my paperwork today to finish internship and it was bittersweet. Tomorrow the new interns come in to talk about transferring clients. There were moments when I never thought I would get to this place, and now I find myself sad to leave. At least until someone farts.

A Blog Before the Read-A-Thon Begins

Since I fully anticipate spending this weekend reading Harry Potter I thought I would blog now. I found someone (who has kids no less) to go with to the Borders Party. I still feel vaguely Chester Molester, but I want the book. And I have worked out my gym schedule to have maximum reading time (basically I will only use the bike). I am a little obsessed with this series.

I forgot to mention yesterday two things that stuck out. First Disease of the Week made a come back. I had a client cancel and explain to me in great detail the massive diarrhea they have experienced (and all the places it occurred). All I could say was thanks for calling and I appreciate the consideration of choosing not to come in. Ending the call I felt a little gross.

The next event occurred at my aunts house when I traveled last night to give my mom the song lyrics. My great aunt (who is 62) was telling me about how she has been laying out in the sun. First she lifted her shirt to show me how her stomach is tan, and then she dropped her pants to show me her thong line. And she wasn't wearing underwear, so basically my aunt mooned me. I didn't know what to say so I think all I said was good for her, and went back to eating my chicken taco. I tried not to look her way for the rest of the night. I walked away glad she did flash her boobs or her vajayjay.

Have a great weekend all.

Thanks be to the Patron St. of Appropriateness (I'm pretty sure her name is Molly)...

I received some phone calls today from friends and family about the possibility of Goodbye Earl being played at the funeral. I'm not going to lie, I was worried. I had a worse case scenario that involved my running up and knocking the cd player over just as the song began to play (I was going to say I was overcome by the moment).

I spoke with my mother tonight and I am happy and relieved to report that song will not be played at the funeral (she wanted the lyrics for fun). But there will be karaoke. Karaoke. At. A. Funeral. Apparently the words to song will be playing on a big screen as she sings (I am guessing she will, at some point. make it a sing along). I feel like this is another instance in which God answered my prayer (please don't let her sing Goodbye Earl) by giving me a new "opportunity" to blog about. The background will be a picture of my grandfather with the grand kids, and we are all surrounded by photoshopped angels. Still creeps me out.

If today did nothing else it made me think of songs less appropriate for the funeral. As my imaginary funeral play list went through my head I realized it could be worse, and I was grateful that my mom didn't love heavy metal or gangsta rap.

Earl Had To Die

I blogged to soon about my mother and her song choices. She called me this morning to ask me to print out "Goodbye Earl". In case you don't know- it's a song about a man who abuses his wife and she and her best friend poison him and dump the body in the lake. The perfect song for this occasion (if he was a wife abuser and if my g-ma killed him).

My phone kept cutting out, so I missed some of the conversation. I really hope this song is not being added to the dvd montage. Or God forbid she sings it at the funeral. I will know more tonight. Best case scenario she tells me she would never sing this for g-pa (that would be the appropraite response). Worst case scenario, I call out the big guns (aka her sister).

It Wasn't Rod Stewart After All

My cousin sent me the lyrics to the song my mother is planning on singing at my grandfather's funeral. I was guessing it was going to be "Forever Young" by Rod Stewart. I was wrong (I think she's saving it for the big one- my grandma's funeral). Instead she will be singing a song from the Dixie Chicks. It's a song called "Godspeed (Sweet Dreams)". It is about putting a little boy to bed (at least I think it is about that). I always thought of it as a happy song. I really don't want to associate it with death and bad singing. I feel like I need to send the Chicks an apology.

She is also making a dvd of old pictures to play at the funeral (I think it will run as she sings). She is trying to figure out how to photoshop angels into all the pictures. This creeps me out and reminds me of the Sixth Sense when all the pictures have something woo hoo in them. Oh and she's meeting with a man to have the dvd made by this Friday. And my grandfather is still alive. This is what I get for driving home tonight thinking that things on her end were quiet.

My Inner Child Party

I am preparing to leave my job, and the major task is to transfer the clients I have worked with for a year to a new intern, Basically this means plan a lot of parties. One of the best things about working with kids is that any thing can become an occasion to party. For example:
Me: If you don't smear your feces (or play with it) for one week we will do something fun next time you come in. Maybe play uno as we talk about positive behaviors (I say this in my ooh and ahh voice). Mom please keep a daily log.
Or...
Me (again): If you can go for one week without screaming curse words in public or biting your brother, we can play in the sand box (again said in oooh and ahh voice). Mom please keep a log.

To soften the blow of my leaving I have made it a challenge for my little clients to think of what kind of activity or party they want (so far one of my really young clients said that they wanted a Shrek party.) They can make bracelets, plant a flower, draw a picture, anything that can serve as a good transfer object from me to the new intern. So far they are really excited, and I think my adult client thinks I am bringing in cake (which I am not, because for this client strict boundaries are important).

I was explaining this to my therapist, and she was amazed. She doesn't work with kids. She works with adults in private practice, and inmates in her other job (which can be like big scary kids), so she has never done games or closure activities. She asked me how I felt about having an inner child party for my last session. To be honest I thought it was weird, but could be fun. I think we are going to paint rocks into paper weights (my idea) and have cookies (hers). It will be an interesting ending to my last 10 months of therapy. The activity will be to paint a paper weight for the other person. I wonder what she'll put on mine? Maybe we'll have a Shrek party too.

Check This Artist Out

This guy creates cool art.

Tell Me Again For The First Time

I survived dinner with my mother. I really was in and out in one hour which was the nicest thing I could say about it.

Let me begin by saying that since I was young my mother has always told me bad news in front of other family members. At best I can suppose that she needs their support, but since I was a small child I have wondered if it was a chance to create family drama.

Thursday was no exception. She decided to tell me that my grandfather is dying. This is tragic news of course, but it is not unexpected. My grandfather has cancer, and has been fighting it for the last 2 years. Apparently the doctor have given him 2-4 months to live. When he was first diagnosed that was also his life expectancy, so I tend to take it with a grain of salt.

It is also not unexpected because I have known since my own father's birthday. She called me crying about the impending death of her father as I was driving to my own dad's dinner. She has since called me crying on several occasions.

This is the part where all you can do is laugh. She has decided to give a eulogy at the funeral. With her having full blown (unmedicated) bipolar with psychotic hallucinations I can only imagine how this will turn out. When I was first told about this (give or take 3 weeks ago) I turned to my g-ma who said, "Well we've been separated for 17 years there's no reason for me to go." It was like rats jumping a sinking ship. My mother has also decided that she wants his ashes (as in to keep on the kitchen table). So he'll never truly be gone, just in a new container (I think I will decopauge the urn with pictures of glasses of white wine and cheap cigars, to keep it real). Christmas will be interesting.

Lastly, she told me she was planning a surprise for the funeral, and asked if I could participate. Right away I said no (in my mind I shouted, "Oh hell to the no!"). I didn't know what the "surprise" was, but I know my mother. She replied, " That's okay I guess I can sing alone. I mean it's not as if I don't sing it alone everyday on the patio." Drama queen aside, she wanted me to sing a duet at a funeral! At best I have a lousy voice, and I have a big case of stage fright. My mother is also planning the funeral, while my grandfather is still alive. I know there are people who want to plan things out before they head to that big-golf-course-in-the-sky, but g-pa is not one of them, so this is causing just a bit of tension.

So that was my Thursday mama drama. I could really relate to how she was feeling as I had spent the last year worrying about my own father. But she is so caught up in the fact that he is dying that she can't be grateful for the months he has left. I think that when all is said and done I feel the saddest about that.

My Presence is Requested (cue horror music)

I got a phone call from my mother today asking me to come to dinner tonight. She is having other family over and has something important to say. Nothing about this can be good, but (thankfully) I am going to see Harry Potter (movies on a work night seem so decadent) at 9 so I can only stay for one hour. Wish me luck.

The food at dinner should be interesting too. My grandma (who lives with my mom like the dysfunctional golden girls) was recently diagnosed with diabetes. Her whole life if it wasn't deep fried it wasn't dinner. I am guessing there will be a cheesy casserole of some sort (hopefully with no mayo) tonight.

*On a side note, I had a dream about Freud last night. It was like we were friends (it was a young version of Freud). He seemed cool. He never once told me I had penis envy or I wanted to marry my father, but I do think we talked about cigars. This is what I get for eating corn pops before bed.

Of Mice and Hookers

Okay this is gross. It also reminds me of Ratatouille (damn Disney).

Yesterday I told the agency I work for that I had accepted a post doc position site. This is the memo that went out right after I spoke with the exec director:

Everyone:
It is with great reluctance and sadness that I report Lorelai has accepted an offer of employment from Evil Persons United – formerly known as ----. Lorelai has graciously agreed to stay through August 10th to help orient the new psych interns, organize the testing supplies and otherwise wrap up her work here. I am sure the new interns will be grateful for the “hands-on” as they get to know this agency. (is it just me or does the hands on comment seem inappropriate?)
Lorelai starts her new adventures at the axis of evil on September 1st; little does she know she’s building them a cafeteria. (this is in reference to my interview with the other agency. they explained that one of their benefit's was a cafeteria plan. to which I stupidly said, "Oh you have a cafeteria? Cool I don't have to bring a lunch." I then was told all about the health care plan)
It is a big loss to this agency to lose Lorelai, and for all of us personally as we have all grown quite fond of her. I know that you will join with me (eventually, not today, I’m still mad at her) in wishing her well as she goes to join Gollum in Mordor. They have a cafeteria and we don’t. But I’m not bitter or anything….

So today I faced a lot of cafeteria jokes and references to Lord of the Rings. We are nothing if not professional.

Tonight as I was getting ready for bed a news announcement broke the program I was watching (America's Got Talent- don't judge). apparently an unknown chemical was released in the Motel 6 about one block from my home. They shut down the main road and evacuated the motel. I can only imagine what sort of nasty ass chemical was released at this motel (which always looks cheap hooker scary to me).

Happy belated 4th of July! I hope everyone got sunburned, did paperwork, and ate chili cheese fries like me. I realized how scared I am by the sounds of fireworks. I must have been in a firing squad in a past life.

In case you thought for one minute that I was even a little cool, let me dissuade you. I spent 9 hours Saturday attending a Harry Potter marathon (to gear up for the new movie). In between movies we played video games. I had never used the Wii before but I am proud to say that I did not throw the controller through the tv.

Speaking of the boy who lived, I pre-ordered 3 Harry Potter books because the last time a new book came out Borders and Barnes and Noble sold my pre-order. I wish I had a child to take to all the midnight bookstore parties. It's kinda creepy for adults to go without kids.

Last night I called Supermommy. I suck at leaving phone messages and this was no exception. I believe I said, "Hey S, it's Lorelai. Come by and get your book whenever Ponch gets off. (akward pause). Work that is. Not gets off inappropriately (giggle). Oh gosh now I went to a bad place (more laughter). Just call me. Umm... yeah...hi-kids-Lore-loves-you-bye." Thankfully she didn't tease me when she called me back.

Rats in the Kitchen, and hallucinations of God.

This was a pretty chill weekend. I saw Evan Almighty on Saturday and Ratatouille on Sunday. I also read the latest Dean Koontz, Christine Feehan, and Lora Leigh books (all fantastic).

While I found Evan Almighty funny it also made me think. Even though I try to find the heavenly in the everyday, I don't think that I would be okay with talking to God. I would need to check myself into the hospital and request lots of medication. I know I've been in school too long when I started diagnosing Evan as the movie is playing.

Hallucinations and crazy hair aside it also made me think about what I pray for. Morgan Freeman (who plays an excellent God) spoke of getting what you ask for. If you pray for patience (which I do all the time), you will get opprotunities to practice being patient (like I don't know, having people drive slow and crazy on my commute). This makes sense to me, for the first time this year I felt a little more calm on my way to work (sure I was shouting "you slow opprotunity!" but it worked).

As for Ratatouille, the movie cracked me up and creeped me out at the same time. While I can generally be amazed with what Disney puts out, I was wigged the entire time by rats in the kitchen. That is not okay. I kept thinking of the plague and other disgusting diseases. I even saw a rat in my neighborhood as I was driving home that night. Gross.

Today marks the fact that I have one month left of my internship. I am excited and nervous at the same time. This means I have to seriously decide what I want to do next year (and pretty much decide today), and gear up to have a social life. So far I plan on attending cooking classes and taking a photography class. I was also thinking of joining a bowling league (but I suck so that seems mean for the possible teammates). Any suggestions are welcome.

As my friends know that countdown to social life is approaching there has been talk of setting me up on blind dates (which I tend to say no to). Saturday my friend said her father was even looking for a good mechanic/Catholic I could date. Her father is 85 so this should be good. I am guessing that the person he sets me up with is a spry 65. Fingers crossed he has his own teeth and hair.

Although I might be ready to date a 65 year old. I had a school visit today and one girl asked another girl (while pointing at me), "Is that your grandma?" I love Mondays.