Category Archives: school

Nearly #1

You know what always makes my day?

Seeing all the hits I get from people searching on the phrase “benefits of androgyny.” Thanks to a post about scoring extra turkey after being sir’ed in a food court, I’m number 2 in Google search results!


It’s nice to feel tops in something after not doing as well as I wanted to on a final today. I take responsibility for not studying as much as I should have. I prioritized working on a group project over my final, and well, I have to be okay with that. I didn’t do terrible, but I sense a B+ rather than an A.


More Dream Encounters

Maybe it was obvious, maybe it wasn’t, but in October I had a hurt-y experience with someone. I let my little fledgeling fragile heart loose, and it got caught in some ickiness.

And I think my unconscious is finally letting it go because I dreamt about it last night.

There was a slight confrontation, which ended with the other person staring searchingly into my eyes and telling me that I have the palest eyes he has ever seen.

Which doesn’t make much sense because we all know I have black eyes.



In other news, the semester is winding down with much craziness. Everything is due at once, there are a couple of finals next week, and people keep giving us new assignments.

The semester has flown by with much activity. I enjoyed it, and I think I’ll enjoy next semester even more.

Human cadaver lab, here I come!


And, a couple of weeks ago I was lucky to see the Carolina Chocolate Drops perform at the Sheldon (thanks to a friend who works at KDHX!). It was awesome to see this guy play the bones:

Put Your Lips Together

I’ve been listening to this song obsessively lately:

When I have a break between classes, I plug my earphones in and traipse around the CWE, half whistling along.

My school program is an intensely overstimulating social one. There is group project after partner project after community project. And while I like most of my schoolmates, my little introverted self gets so exhausted.

Sometimes I just need a song, a sidewalk, and a stroll.

Being in School is Hard

Here’s a summary of highlights from my school week so far:

  • Practice juggling.
  • Do origami.
  • Build paper airplanes.
  • Fabricate splints.
  • Play with a therapy dog.

My cooking lab starts next week, so I’ll be doing some soul food research.

Yo, it’s rough.

(Just to be clear, we also do hard things in the midst of this fun. I’m actually pretty stressed out about the rest of this month. I mean, my gosh, juggling is hard to master.)


Monday Haiku

Awake. Bleary eyes.

8 am stats class comes too

soon. Send stimulants.


But know what makes Monday morning a bit more palatable?

A spot of Bikini Kill.

Role Play!

One of the things I love about OT school is all the role play we get to do.

Seriously, it’s fun to pretend and have that be your class!

In one class, we’re gearing up for a month of role play dealing with group sessions. We will each assume a character for the entire month, and take turns co-leading the group as therapists. It should be quite fun.

I chose the gay character (surprise, surprise), and my only complaint is the complete stereotyping of this guy. He’s the only HIV+ character in the group, and he attempted suicide two weeks ago.


For reals?

Why can’t the 35-year-old mother with bipolar I disorder have HIV?

Oh well. I can’t wait to go to town with this guy and finally live my dream of being a gay man.

Not quite kidding. As I was walking to class this morning, I was thinking about my happy place, which is imagining me as a scruffy, loner, cigarette-smoking gay cowboy in the days of yore. Just me, my horse, my bedroll, and some stray cows. Bunking up with other cowboys for warmth and perhaps to relieve a bit of loneliness. A million points if I can work this into my school role play somehow.

Now is the Best Place to Be

Yesterday was a very good Saturday of randomness.

There was volunteer work in the morning, and even though I spent 3 hours doing nothing but freehand ceiling-wall trim work and half of the group cut out early, I enjoyed working with some of my fellow OT students (the responsible ones who stayed to clean up, that is).

Back at the house, there was a perfect little present from a friend waiting in the mail for me! After that, there was an unexpected lunch invitation from another friend. As a bonus, he picked up the tab at El Bronco. After touring his new loft at WireWorks, I went to the Mud House for homework and a gluten-free cookie.

As a homework break, I roasted chestnuts that Porkchop’s girlfriend’s parents foraged at Creve Coeur Lake. Served with hot apple cider, it was the perfect little snack. Also, as opposed to my previous chestnut-roasting experience, this time I neither cut off part of my thumb nor caused a minor explosion in the oven. Definitely a success.


Keeping Up

When my friend and I were walking back from El Bronco, we were talking about exercise and how walking is so much more common in Europe. My friend was walking at a good clip, and I stepped it up to keep apace (also to appear European with my fast-walking). He commented on how I must be walking a lot because he could barely keep up with me. Then I laughed and said that I could barely keep up with him. Unconsciously, we were both trying to keep up with the other and this resulted in something akin to a power walk race. Afterwards, I thought about how this illustrates so much of my life in the past 5 months.

Convenient Conduits

I was also struck while reading my textbook about intentional use of self. In the section about managing difficult client behavior, the author writes about how therapists must remember that we are often only a convenient conduit for what is most likely a predetermined pattern of behavior.

It’s an obvious observation, I suppose, but wow. It really opened up my mind. I’m going to keep this as my mantra whenever I interact with my family.


I paid a whopping $3 for this drink last night while having dinner at Whole Foods, and I really really really wanted to like it.

Pretty! Deceptively so.

But it was the most vile drink I’ve ever had. Really, I can’t think of anything grosser. I ended up discarding the rest, which hurt my soul a bit.

This morning I’m off to spackle and paint at a group home in St. Charles, and then it’s homework homework homework for me.

A wall of homework stretching through Tuesday evening.

I would say I don’t like it, but I’m glad to have an excuse to be a big nerdy introverted homebody (read: my real self). Maybe I’ll fit in some This American Life and knitting along the way.

Also, the nursing home visit went quite well! I surprised myself with my therapeutic use of self skills amid the geriatric set. However, there was no custard because we were crunched for time on the way back. Sadness.

Kitchen Therapy

After a 9-hour day of classes and lectures and personal wellness coaching, sometimes one must go home, crank up the music, and cook a full meal.

How novel is a meal composed of an entree and two sides?!

Very novel.

Not every night is like this.

Spicy porkchops, spicy roasted acorn squash, and braised kale with red bell pepper and 3-pepper goat cheese.

I felt like a real person after the meal.

Did I ask you for attention when affection is what I need?

For music, I listened to a lot of Metric, particularly this song:

Keep doing it wrong, keep singing along.

Today I’m off to a nursing home for data collection. Three of the four of us going readily admit that we’re not suited for working in geriatrics.

It should be a fun morning.

The bright spot is that the little town in Illinois has an awesome frozen custard stand, and I made the group promise that we stop there after every trip to the nursing home.


When considering with whom I should pair up for my stats lab, I chose another older student who is pretty laid back about stuff. What I didn’t realize is that he is an amazing curser.

I hang out with some pretty good swearers, but this guy’s cursing is gold. Which is awesome because I’m amused during our lab work rather than bored out of my mind.

Picture a computer lab full of young, hardworking, shiny students, and then me and my partner in a corner. I usually look like something the cat dragged in, and he hulks over the computer with his 6′ 5″ frame. All the other students are la-di-da stats la-di-da while a stream of expletives comes from our corner, all said in a hard Baltimore-New York-Chicago hybrid accent:

Goddamn piece of shit motherfucking SPSS you fucking piece of shit. Fuck you Excel and your goddamned fucking copy and paste shit, fuuuuuuck youuuuu. Motherfucker. Fuck. I’m going to fucking tear this up, shitty SPSS. Goddamn motherfucker.

The usual wrap up is:

Fucking stupid stats tables. Fuck them motherfuckers pieces of shit. Hey, do you want to grab some lunch from the food truck?

I chuckle. A lot.

Two-Step Anarchy

Porkchop recruited me for a two-step class, and the first one was last night. This is part of our independent projects of Trying New Things. And for me, Get Out of My Comfort Zone.

Guess what? My dance skills have not improved at all.

I’m a whiz at the emo head-bob dance. I can even move my lower body. However, paired dancing is a totally different story.

I was paired up with a bossy lesbian who said things like, You have to follow and let me lead.

As my stats partner would say, screw that motherfucking piece of shit dancing.

Seriously, I have a problem following, but I don’t want to lead either. I realized on the drive home that I’m more of a dance anarchist. I’d much rather have a collective team rather than a leader and a follower. But I suppose that wouldn’t really work.

Also, there was a lot of lesbian talk during the session. Groan. Queers: where are you?

Pony Up

On the way home from two-stepping, I cranked up this song and smiled.

Carrie Brownstein, come take me away.