People Say the Wrongest Things

I read this article today titled, "How Not To Say the Wrong Thing" and it really made an impression on me. The general idea is that when someone is grieving or experiencing something difficult, you need to weigh your closeness to the situation and respond accordingly - offering care and support to those most affected and reserving your doubts and fears for those more removed. Basically, common sense for those who lack it.

I thought back to when we first learned about the seriousness of our infertility issue which, coincidentally, came up right after the loss of my job.  We had just bought our house and a new truck before this and we were really worried about how we were going to pay bills and mortgage on unemployment when suddenly we find out that the only way we were going to be able to have a biological child was to spend a huge sum of money on a risky procedure that may not work. One night, I had a friend over and I couldn't hold back all of these fears and concerns and I totally lost it.  I started complaining, which lead to more intense bitching and bemoaning. By the time I'd finished my rant, I found I was near tears.  I was so stressed about not being able to find a job and hopeless because I never thought it would be so hard to start a family and I guess I just couldn't deal any more. What I was even less prepared to deal with was my friend's response, which was, (and I am quoting very accurately) "Well, sometimes life just sucks for no reason and we have to get over it." I know it is the truth, but the delivery and timing of this truth still hurts to this day. Maybe sharing will help someone, anyone avoid a similar scenario.

How not to say the wrong thing

-credit LA Times 4/7/14

When Susan had breast cancer, we heard a lot of lame remarks, but our favorite came from one of Susan's colleagues. She wanted, she needed, to visit Susan after the surgery, but Susan didn't feel like having visitors, and she said so. Her colleague's response? "This isn't just about you."

"It's not?" Susan wondered. "My breast cancer is not about me? It's about you?"

The same theme came up again when our friend Katie had a brain aneurysm. She was in intensive care for a long time and finally got out and into a step-down unit. She was no longer covered with tubes and lines and monitors, but she was still in rough shape. A friend came and saw her and then stepped into the hall with Katie's husband, Pat. "I wasn't prepared for this," she told him. "I don't know if I can handle it."

This woman loves Katie, and she said what she did because the sight of Katie in this condition moved her so deeply. But it was the wrong thing to say. And it was wrong in the same way Susan's colleague's remark was wrong.

Susan has since developed a simple technique to help people avoid this mistake. It works for all kinds of crises: medical, legal, financial, romantic, even existential. She calls it the Ring Theory.

Draw a circle. This is the center ring. In it, put the name of the person at the center of the current trauma. For Katie's aneurysm, that's Katie. Now draw a larger circle around the first one. In that ring put the name of the person next closest to the trauma. In the case of Katie's aneurysm, that was Katie's husband, Pat. Repeat the process as many times as you need to. In each larger ring put the next closest people. Parents and children before more distant relatives. Intimate friends in smaller rings, less intimate friends in larger ones. When you are done you have a Kvetching Order. One of Susan's patients found it useful to tape it to her refrigerator.

Here are the rules. The person in the center ring can say anything she wants to anyone, anywhere. She can kvetch and complain and whine and moan and curse the heavens and say, "Life is unfair" and "Why me?" That's the one payoff for being in the center ring.

Everyone else can say those things too, but only to people in larger rings.

When you are talking to a person in a ring smaller than yours, someone closer to the center of the crisis, the goal is to help. Listening is often more helpful than talking. But if you're going to open your mouth, ask yourself if what you are about to say is likely to provide comfort and support. If it isn't, don't say it. Don't, for example, give advice. People who are suffering from trauma don't need advice. They need comfort and support. So say, "I'm sorry" or "This must really be hard for you" or "Can I bring you a pot roast?" Don't say, "You should hear what happened to me" or "Here's what I would do if I were you." And don't say, "This is really bringing me down."

If you want to scream or cry or complain, if you want to tell someone how shocked you are or how icky you feel, or whine about how it reminds you of all the terrible things that have happened to you lately, that's fine. It's a perfectly normal response. Just do it to someone in a bigger ring.

Comfort IN, dump OUT.

There was nothing wrong with Katie's friend saying she was not prepared for how horrible Katie looked, or even that she didn't think she could handle it. The mistake was that she said those things to Pat. She dumped IN.

Complaining to someone in a smaller ring than yours doesn't do either of you any good. On the other hand, being supportive to her principal caregiver may be the best thing you can do for the patient.

Most of us know this. Almost nobody would complain to the patient about how rotten she looks. Almost no one would say that looking at her makes them think of the fragility of life and their own closeness to death. In other words, we know enough not to dump into the center ring. Ring Theory merely expands that intuition and makes it more concrete: Don't just avoid dumping into the center ring, avoid dumping into any ring smaller than your own.

Remember, you can say whatever you want if you just wait until you're talking to someone in a larger ring than yours.

Half a Dozen Pregnant Chicks Walk in to A Bar...

...I don't have a punch-line, but lately it feels like I'm at the butt of a cruel joke.  At this moment, between all my relatives, friends and coworkers, I figure I know at least six pregnant ladies (9 if you count Facebook friends). Now, of course, I am happy in different ways for each of them and downright ecstatic that this number includes another niece or nephew for me to spoil.  But in the mean time, being the lone "infertile one" surrounded by all of this baby related excitement really does suck.

When we first considered that we might be struggling to conceive, it took a while to really understand what was happening and what it would mean.  Of course, I was mildly disappointed each month when "Aunt Flo" arrived right on time, but I figured this was all part of our journey - that all the struggles would pay off, making our happy ending that much more gratifying. And when it finally did happen, that we would be all the more primed and ready for how becoming parents would inevitably change our lives. Looking back, I can see how naive I was but sometimes dreams have a poisonous power to make us a bit blind. So when we finally figured that we needed to get the advice of a fertility specialist, we had to quickly face a harsh reality as we learned the only way we would get pregnant was through invasive and expensive treatment, specifically in vitro fertilization. I wasn't prepared for how defeated that would make me feel. Nor was I prepared for how I could sink from defeat to depression after two attempts at in vitro failed.

I say depression although it wasn't medically diagnosed as such.  But I felt it. I knew it, just as I knew my name.  I was never going to have a biological child. I would never know what the genetic outcome of Matt and I would look like, sound like, or be like. All the times I'd day-dreamed about whether our child would have my unruly curls or Matt's perfect teeth... or whether they would play sports or love reading all just instantly died, taking a little part of me with it.During this time, I had friends and family who were pregnant and while I was glad for them, I was increasingly saddened every time the topic came up.  I had to shop for shower gifts, and chat at family gatherings while pretending to be excited for someone else, all the while, I was hopeless and sad that it would never happen for us.  On top of that grief, I felt tremendous guilt and self loathing that I wasn't able to just BE happy - that I had to put on an act that made me miserable. What I learned is that going through the process of IVF and failing was an honest to goodness emotional trauma that you don't just fake your way through.  There is loss. There is grief and there is a lot of pain.  Still, a year after coming to the reality that we were going to stop trying to conceive, it can hit me at any time and I can get lost at any of the stages of grieving process - denial, anger, bargaining, depression....even acceptance. I go through most of my days not thinking about it but there are definite triggers that can take be right back to any of these feelings.  Baby showers. Birth announcements. Ultra-sound pics posted on Facebook.  At any time during the day, I might be bombarded out of the blue and right now, it's coming at me from many angles.

I realize that there are a lot aspects of pregnancy that are uncomfortable and unappealing, but for me, I'd take any of that in a heartbeat if it meant I could have my husband's child.  And I realize that someday, hopefully soon, we may still find a way to have a family through adoption, but in the mean time, I will still be suffering through every trip down the baby aisle and crying a little after every congratulatory post.

Thanks, Stupid.

My brother Ryan told me about this guy who does animal videos in the vein of "Wild Kingdom," only funnier.  It's called Randall's Animals or something along those lines.  This one about the honey badger especially cracked me up, even more when I think about my brother reciting things like, "oh he's eating larvae, that's disgusting!"

(Not suitable for work, kids)

Logistics?

After barely a month and a half of employment at UTi, I have been promoted.  Yes, it is exciting and rewarding to be recognized so quickly but, I have to admit it, was nice being an hourly employee with hourly responsibilities.  Which is to say, not much responsibility at all!

Still, I was really worried that I would have to take on a part time job to make ends meet and after a couple of days, I had sort of come to terms with the prospect of being sucked back in to the unfulfilling world of middle-management.

Then, as I learned more about the position, I started to get nervous.  I am worried about one aspect in particular - training with the person who's position I will be taking.  I got a bad feeling the very first conference call I had with her.  She was argumentative and confrontational about everything and, unfortunately, I am going to have to find a way to work closely and learn everything from her when I go to NY for training.  I was daunted by this all last week, especially given the fact that I only have about two weeks to learn it before I lose one person in the department.  To take things to a whole new level of craziness, today I found out that she has filed a discrimination suit against my boss.  Why, you might wonder?  She is PISSED that I got the job and not another guy.  I can't explain how undermined I felt at hearing this. 

Now, everything about my pending training and traveling is up in the air (not that it was ever finalized) and I am supposed to be leaving in 12 days.  I am going to give it my all, but honestly, I don't know if I can take so much crazy so soon.

To the Power of Two

It's amazing what two people can do together.  No, I'm not talking about that.  I mean musically.  The synergy between two people coupled with the simplicity of fewer instruments can often compensate for the lack of a whole band.

I mention this because I noticed today how frequently I've been listening to bands consisting of primarily just two people.  Strangely, there aren't a lot of two-man bands in the annals of rock (I'm not counting you, Hall and Oates!)  but recently, they seem to be all the rage.  I could make a whole playlist with nothing but Viva Voce, Matt and Kim, Quasi, the Fiery Furnaces, She and Him... the list goes on and on, it seems.  Here's what I'm talkin' about:


The White Stripes = Jack White + Meg White
This whole blog entry is probably due to the fact that I'm sad that The White Stripes are breaking up and have been listening to their last three albums relentlessly.  This is undoubtedly my favorite all-time Stripes song and, like most of theirs, it is driven along by a blues inspired riff during the verse then builds up to a shredding chorus.  I couldn't find a proper video but this song doesn't need one - the improv lyrics are a total hoot:  "It's like a mansion!" and "Now Meg, don't be rude..."

The Spinanes = Rebecca Gates + Scott Plouf
This is probably the first two piece band I ever heard (you know, besides like Simon and Garfunkel).  They were a brief but beautiful flash on the Portland 90's DIY scene.  They had three albums of jangly indie-pop together and then Scott went on to play with Built to Spill and Becky moved to Chicago and did a lame solo album.  Here's a gem from back in the day:

  

The Black Keys  = Dan Auerbach + Patrick Carney

The first time I saw this band live, I couldn't believe the sound was coming from just two dudes.  I am so glad that they are getting some respect and popularity - they've totally earned it.  Their latest album, Brothers is all the way tight, all the way through.  Plus, you gotta love this video:

Nine Years After...

I started to write a post on September 11th but in the midst of it, my grandma fell, was hospitalized and put in to a nursing home, causing all sorts of upheaval in my family.  Long story short, I have not had the best few weeks on an emotional level.

After a few attempts at editing and re-wording, I gave up and logged on to my Blogger account last week to delete my 9/11 post.  Nearly every TV channel from FOX to Comedy Central had already done a more than sufficient job of covering the events at the Pentagon and the World Trade Center from every angle, complete with opinions from experts and ghastly commentary from survivors.  I didn't really have anything new to offer and just thinking about it was adding to my overall despondency.

Then as I was cleaning out the office today (something I've been avoiding for a few weeks), I came across a photo album the containing pictures I took in New York in February of 2002.  I was on a business trip to Connecticut and took the train in to Grand Central station with some coworkers one afternoon.  I bought a cheap disposable camera, a stocking hat (it was freezing) and some sunglasses in Battery Park and set off to explore Midtown and Lower Manhattan. In lieu of a lengthy tirade about religious fanaticism and our addiction to foreign oil, here is my photo-tribute to that day which included a trip to Ground Zero.

 

I braved the freezing February temperatures and took a ferry ride around the harbor. I would have liked to have this same skyline shot a few months earlier.

Iconic views in every direction - I could have easily shot all my film on the harbor tour.

Liberty Island was still closed to visitors so this was as close as I got.

I love this angle as we passed under the bridge.

Me and my Starbucks posing in the financial district.

Security was still really tight as you can see the barricades on Wall Street.

Approaching Times Square, we passed the MTV studios.  This was much cooler in 2002.

By the time we ate dinner, all the street lights were on. Still, the sidewalks were packed with people.

We took the subway to "Ground Zero" I remember how solemn everyone was who got off at this station.

As close as all the buildings were, a gaping hole was left where the twin towers used to be.  Four months later and they were still removing the debris.

We could see busted out windows of buildings several blocks away.

A makeshift memorial was set up at the site.  There were hundreds of onlookers.

This is where I took the picture of the memorial.  I remember it being nearly silent as I turned and saw this sign on the wall.

"The more we sweat in peace the less we bleed in war."  ~Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit

This One Goes Out to the One I Love

Last week's episode of Glee ended with perhaps the most spectacular homage/spoof on Madonna's classic Vogue video. As I watched with utter, well, glee, I couldn't help marvel at the perfect replication of every little detail: the cinematography, choreography, wardrobe, even the members of the cast playing Madonna's entourage were all spot on. Jane Lynch (who is fast becoming a leading comedy genius of our time) nailed every dance step, gesture and facial expression made famous by the Material Girl in this obvious labor of love by whoever dared to reproduce this iconic piece of work. I know and appreciate all of this because I have probably seen the Vogue video seventy two thousand times.

It's no secret that music has always been a big part of my life. As a kid, my dad's record collection was a constant source of fascination. I think the visual images were a big part of the attraction. I would stare for hours at the front of a Yes or Grateful Dead album in wonder. Of course, I knew the songs but what did these images have to do with the music? Was there hidden meaning that I could somehow understand if I just looked harder? Was the secret to the cover art buried somewhere in the lyrics or vice versa? What's with all the nudity?

some of my faves from Ron Porter's stash

By about the time I was old enough to want records of my own, along came MTV. Finally. It seemed like the natural progression to put these visual accompaniments to song. At least, that’s how they started out, as either lip synced performances or upbeat mini musicals about life as an Uptown Girl or even a Material Girl (for example).

I won't link every video but these are some memorable early MTV moments

Eventually the art of the music video was honed and refined. Bands could define themselves not just musically but socially, politically, and culturally by their videos. They could be hip, satirical, ethereal and slightly suggestive, just like an extension of the album cover. You'll find a few shining examples of video as art below:










And then, at the height of it all, MTV dropped music videos, a little at first and then altogether. Now the once great channel focuses heavily on lifestyle programming and teen-targeted "reality" shows. (MTV arguably pioneered the idea of reality TV with the Real World which was not a bad show initially but that’s another post for another time).

Although videos are still being made by some artists, it seems they are distributed largely via You Tube and iTunes. Perhaps this is just the next step in the evolution of the video but there’s nothing like a classic to make you crave the good old days. I guess this is all just my way of saying thanks, MTV. I was glad you could bridge the gap between the record store and the internet. Some of us will miss you more than others.

Where My Head's At

It's funny, I've been pretty vocal to my friends and coworkers about the fact that upper management (my boss, my bosses' boss) are over dramatizing the fact that we're all losing our jobs.  Today though, with T-minus 21 days and counting, I gotta say I'm starting to freak out a little bit.

It's not the job - I feel pretty confident that I will find work eventually and we're financially OK until the right opportunity comes along.  I think the thing that is most difficult is the break neck pace at which I have to read all of the fine print.  From now until November 20th, we're preparing for Matt's surgery and working through all the details surrounding our portion of the bill, COBRA and flexible spending, not to mention researching options once my health care plan ends. We're trying to refinance our house and figure out our new rates, payments, taxes and insurance and all that goes along with that. I'm updating my resume and registering with temporary agencies, checking the job postings online and figuring out what to do with my 401k. Not to mention all the minutia that goes along with closing an office of 94 people like writing letters of recommendation, formulating a transition plan for my entire department, coordinating the transfer of over 600 boxes of financial reports, calculating vacation payouts and severance checks, and acting as a counselor for the people who can't deal with all of this rapid change.

I guess it's a good thing I tend to thrive under pressure but I'm a little worried what happens on November 21st?

Pretty Sweet for a Monday

I came in to work reluctantly today, wishing I had contracted H1N1 over the weekend so I could stay in bed.  I knew my boss would be back from vacation and with Month End falling on Wednesday, she might be a bit stressed out. To my surprise, she greeted me with a cute new coffee cup from Disneyland with Minnie Mouse on one side and the word "Sweet!" on the other.   Now Minnie is not so much my cup of tea but the "Sweet" part is straight from my daily lexicon.  I was pretty tickled by the fact that she thought of me upon seeing it.  Also, while she was in California she got her neice who is Tony Shaloub's assistant to get me an autographed headshot!  I don't know if she thinks I'm a big Monk fan or if she just knows my love of movies and TV but whatever the reason, again, it was touching that she thought of me while on her trip.

Then, as I returned to my office with a newly filled cup of good morning America, I spied my coworker entering the front door with not one but TWO cheesecakes: (or as Matt would say, "Dasdy Cheezegakes")  New York style with strawberries and a pumpkin.

So as I sit here enjoying my breakfast, thinking on the fact that sometimes things just turn out differently than you expect,  I wish you all a surprisingly good Monday.

Stolen Skillz

I read this post recently on the Women’s Colony blog and had to share my own wish list (thanks, T for pointing me in this direction – "mancake" is now my favorite descriptor!)

In short, the question is this: If you had three wishes what would they be?

The stipulation: You can only wish for abilities, not riches or property or more wishes. And it would have to be ‘real’ skill – not something made up, like pulling money out of your ass.

For example, my 3 wishes would be:

1. The ability to speak, read and write any language as proficiently as English. Mostly, I want to know what people are talking about at all times because I'm nosy like that. Plus I'd like to impress waiters at Thai food restaurants when I order.

2. Virtuosic musical abilities. This would include singing and playing any instrument. I’d love to whip out a fiddle and have a hoe-down round the campfire or sit in front of a baby grand at Christmas, knowing all the holiday standards. Also, blowing everyone away in the karaoke bar has GOT to be satisfying.

3. Crazy gymnastic prowess. Like that of a twelve year old Olympic tumbler. Wouldn’t it be fun to freak out your coworkers by vaulting the cubicle wall to get to the printer? This would also come in handy when Ray's frisbee sails over the fence, in to the neighbor's yard.

So what would your three wishes be?

Weird Wednesday ~ puncicate


Not that we have any hope of truly embracing soccer in the US, but the latest trend in Italy is a bit disturbing. They are actually imitating a fencing move by STABBING the opposing teams’ FANS in the ASS. Can you imagine if this caught on in the NBA?

The People’s Republic of... Portland?

I was reading this article in the Wall Street Journal wherein Russian academic and self-proclaimed brainiac, Igor Panarin shares his prediction that the US will disband, or “disintegrate” by the year 2010. Mr. Panarin posits, in brief, that mass immigration, the plummeting economy, and moral degradation will trigger a civil war next fall and the collapse of the dollar. Around the end of June 2010, or early July, he says, the U.S. will break into six pieces -- with Alaska reverting to Russian control and the rest of the country split between China, Mexico and the European Union.

Here’s a link for the dedicated: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB123051100709638419.html

At first amused, I read on wondering what our country look like if such a split were to happen. Luckily, there was a diagram included with the article.

Above is the map of how this guy, who by all accounts seems to be a highly educated and well respected human, sees our nation’s demise. Now, I don’t think the idea itself is completely crazy. I am reminded every election year just how diametrically opposed some Americans are from their countrymen.

I take this as yet another example of how often times, highly intelligent people have no common sense. And I have to wonder, has this guy ever been to America? A five minute discussion with anyone in say, Alabama, and you’d know there’s no way The South is going to become part of Mexico. Furthermore, I don’t see Montana and Wyoming residents rushing to snuggle up with Canada any time soon. No, Mr. Panarin, no matter how smart you are, you don’t know jack about the U.S.A., comrade!

Still, if we were to suffer a total collapse, what country would be your first pick to adopt the Great Northwest?