You Are Invited...

If you are in the Cincinnati area this weekend, consider this invitation for you!

Stranded

In this box of prism walls
Illusions of color and beauty
Strand me in a black and white reality

A space that is too vast yet too small
As this language confines me
Into a shadow of myself

Marooned on this island
In an ocean of assumption
And numbers are the salt

Where are the adventurers?
The ones to brave these waters
And sail the sea of discovery

The Camera Doesn't Lie

OK...so it is becoming increasingly apparent to me how ridiculous I would look to everyone if I was followed around by a camera 24/7. In addition to the additional 10 pounds that the camera adds, here is a sampling of what you would see.

I have a rubber mat under this really sweet, ergonomic office chair that my work place gives me in order to make up for the ridiculous number of hours they expect me to work. The problem is, whenever I roll off the mat to get something from across the office or to sit at a different table, I have what you might call a little problem getting back on. You would think 50 times or so of doing this would lead to my finally catching on, but it hasn't. Instead, every single time, I try to roll back on at top chair speeds and the following happens (picture in slow motion for greatest effect).

Marsha's chair hits the edge of the rubber mat.
Chair stops abruptly;Marsha does not.
Marsha pitches forward head-first into large office desk.
Marsha exclaims not-so-lady-like expletive.
Marsha laughs at herself for doing it again and again.

I do a lot of dictating at work. After using a handset for a long time and realizing that this was causing a serious dispute between my neck and I, I decided to order a phone headset. I love it. Incidentally, I can't put it on without doing my best pop star imitation. I preferred Janet Jackson until not-so recent events led to a very different image being conjured up whenever I told people that.

Anyway, so I dictate with this headset. I have even mastered the art of dictating and eating by maneuvering food around the headset at the same time. It's a real job skill. What I apparently have not mastered is taking off the headset, because everytime it gets all tangled in my hair and I have to spend like 5 minutes getting it out. Very impressive indeed. It is closely approximated but not quite matched by the "earring stuck in the sweater while pulling sweater over the head" incident of March 2006. Somehow I got into some sort of straight-jacket position with that one, and it was not an easy feat to get out. Good times.

Just Do It

Go see Tsotsi. You won't regret it. It's quite a story about finding freedom and redemption amidst the harshest of cirumstances.

Then let's discuss...

Here's To Good Friends

...tonight is kinda special...

OK, I couldn't help that. But seriously - only a good friend could get away with the following:

Me: Yeah, so that's what's been going on. And I am going to be 33 next month. Here's to hoping that will be the start of a good year.

Good Friend: Jesus was 33 when he died.

Me: Um, thanks.

"You Can Call Me Fatty" and other miscellaneous life stories

And here is the latest in a long line of stories from this stressful but eventful job of mine...

You Can Call Me Fatty

(Fade-in to supervision with one of my trainees yesterday)

Me: I see you have been working with Johnny and his parents. We should talk about how therapy is going so far and make sure your plan sounds appropriate to me.

Trainee: OK, great. Yadayadayada...And so, we had our first parent coaching session yesterday. Mom and dad are divorced but both committed to practicing at home with Johnny this week - Dad four times a week, and mom each weekend day when she has visitation. They are really coachable.

Me: Sounds good. Let's talk again next week after you do a bit more next session. Have we talked about this family before?

Trainee: Yes. This is the one where the dad is a pretty obese guy, and, when I introduced myself and asked how he would like to be addressed, he said, "My name is XXXX, but you can call me Fatty." And then when I called his house another time and got his answering machine, he was all "Hi, this is Fatty. Leave a message." And another time, someone else answered the phone and was like, "Just a minute...(in background) Faaaaaattttttyyyyy!!!!"

Me: Oh yeah, I remember now....so, what else do we need to talk about today?

(And Scene)

Next, a little treat from earlier in the week...

I just moved into Clifton. With this move, I am leaving my old gym behind and joining something closer. I work out way early in the morning, and that just isn't going to happen if I have to travel very far to get there. So, long story short, I decided to join the UC Fitness Center in the Campus Rec Center.

I will say that the center is pretty impressive. The only catch is parking. I don't work on campus, so I don't have parking there. Now, I don't live that far, but I have a small window of time to work out in the morning before work, and walking eats up a lot of that time. I am not averse to walking or running, but this will not be fun in the cold and/or rain. So, I have an epiphany. Why not ride my bike? All sorts of visions of me looking all cool riding my bike through campus come into my mind, and I settle on this option.

So, the morning after I join, I plan to ride my bike to the gym before work, work out, and ride home to get ready for work. The whole process starts around 6am - a treat from my former 5am workout time. Anyway, I get up all gung ho. I had prepared the night before by buying a bike lock for the sweet bike I bought last summer, so I was all set. I go in the basement to get my bike, and I head outside.

It's a little cold this time of year still, isn't it? This is especially true at 6am. Thirty degrees that day, in fact. I hadn't really thought about that. Oh well...

Wow, Clifton is pretty hilly, isn't it? I knew that, but there is nothing like getting on a bicycle for the first time in months (and before that, years) to bring that point home. Huffing and puffing and with copious amounts of snot smeared across my face, I arrive at UC. Almost there...

College campuses never make paths with direct access to anywhere, do they? It is always circuitous. I had forgotten that...

Working this bike lock on this fancy bike lock holder seemed a lot simpler last night, didn't it? Oh, got it. Great.

[Intermission for uneventful gym workout]

Carry over previous comments about cold, hills, huffing, puffing, snot, and circuitous bike routes and add the following on the ride home: 1) Many more people around to view said huffing, puffing, and snot. 2) Many more cars on the street to make this yet another in a long line of "I almost died" stories that I am compiling for my David Sedaris-style autobiography. 3) Me without my bike helmet (what was I thinking?!!), and 4) Arriving at my house again to find that my lungs hurt from the cold and that my hand was frozen in position on my brake.

And to top it all off, when I had arrived near campus, I had noticed plenty of street parking available at that time of day. Needless to say, if you go by campus between 6 and 7am from now on, you will see a black Ford Focus parked on the street...at least until it's warmer. Then you might see a helmeted, snot-free, cardiovascularly-fit, female biker riding over to campus. Be sure to say "hi" to her for me.