Tag Archives: self-worth

The Fourteen Dollar Martini Murder, Stress in Paradise

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The Fourteen Dollar Martini Murder, Stress in Paradise

Episode One: Revolution on the Beach

Dateline: Cabo San Lucas Hilton Resort International Branch Headquarters.
This place is what heaven would be like if you could get in using Hilton Points. There is one small problem in paradise, though. I didn’t think the issue would come to this, but these people are relentless and used to getting what they want.

Note: I am grateful not to be an only child, or the first child. When you grow up with siblings, you know you don’t get your way all the time. Just ask my little brother.

To kick off the New Year in proper psychologist fashion, I’d planned to write a series on the absolutelyhardest psychological problem for all us. Something lite on how to be a happy human in every way, all the time–just pay shipping and handling. But then,
everything went all to heck here at the resort. And, well, total happiness will
have to wait.

Set-up:  Ultimate Supreme Superlative Fabulous Luxury…resort on the beach of the Sea of Cortez. (Yes, I’ve been watching Toddlers a.nd Tierras. It’s a call for help.)…Glorious Spanish style hotel, infinity pools, palm trees, white uniformed waiters and helpers to meet every need of guests stretched out on gel memory foam chaise lounges, each with several tan and white beach towels (warmed at night in December). There are swim up bars, spa stations, four restaurants, and even whales on the horizon.

Perfect, right? Well, maybe, until the humans who’d migrated from the north
noticed one teeny tiny flaw in the perfect hotel on the perfect beach. This wee
fact chaffs like hot sand too high up in the bathing suit.

To comprehend the seriousness of the Chaise Lounge War, we are talking combatants with unlimited funds. I am likely the only woman here who bought her bathing suit ‘cover-all’ (I thought the name‘cover all’ served my purpose perfectly.) at Walmart. The man one chaise over just told someone casually: “My son only wanted to go to SMU or Duke, so heonly applied to those two. He was accepted at both. SMU offered him a full four-year scholarship, but then after touring both campuses, he decided he liked the Duke camps a tiny bit better. So that’s where he went and it cost me $240,000.”

Yeah, I know. Martians, right? I expected him to say, “But then after touring both campuses, he told me he liked Duke a tiny bit better, and I asked him if he wanted to live.”

So, different folks. I don’t think Hilton points are the main currency here.

When we arrived before Christmas the hotel was not completely full and the chaise lounge issue was but a mere fleeting shadow over paradise. But as the week closed in on New Year’s, the chaise lounge dilemma rumbled and grew, sucking up more and more time and attention. And, yes, fear. Now the chaise lounge issue has careened completely off the page.

There’s talk of stun guns.

Next: Episode Two. The Wealthy Strike Back at Unfair Pool Regulations!

 

 

Those Stress Relief Advice Givers are Just Making Stuff Up

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Stress. Some of These Advice Givers are Just Making Stuff Up

Dateline: Gold’s Gym International Branch Office.  A couple of Texas basketball players train here in the summer. Makes the treadmill more fun.

Stress Relief Advice for the Holiday Season

How to steam a turkey in a mop bucket, how to make a wreath out of old toothbrushes, how to bake cookies shaped like antlers using sun power, how to spice up your cocoa with plants from your backyard…and on and on.  

Are you ready for the feature writers to pull out those well-worn ‘seasonal’ features?  How many times do we all have to stand around in the kitchen on Thanksgiving Day and wring our hands trading salmonella rumors?

To honor the relentless nonsensical suggestions we endure this time of year, I’m sharing two bits of bizarre advice to represent the group.

 Stress and Fat Free Turkey

Want to enjoy turkey on Thanksgiving, but you are afraid of the fat? (Okay, let’s be honest here. If you are tackling some weight issue or just living your life beating yourself up…if your first concern is the fat in turkey??…Just saying.) This tip is courtesy of one of the doctor shows. The recommendation: “If you want to enjoy turkey on the Big Day but don’t want the fat, substitute that tasty turkey breast and gravy, that delicious turkey leg… with a fat free (read: so dry you could use it as a sponge) ground turkey CUPCAKE. The delusional doctor actually added, “Not only is a turkey cupcake low in fat, it’s fun to eat!”

Doggie Stress at the Turkey Table 

We don’t want to leave out the pet on this family holiday. This chunk of news is taken from some guy on the Animal Channel. “Is your pet a problem at the dinner table? Does your dog beg for a taste of that lucious turkey dinner the people are enjoying?”

Now, right away, the fact this guy can ask such questions should warn you to plug your ears with hot tar. Lucky for us dog owners, he answers his own questions.  He says, (You should probably sit down for this one.) “While it may seem like what your dog wants is a bit of food, all he really wants is your attention.” (I know. I almost choked I was laughing so hard.)

The dog man continues: “When your dog begs at Thanksgiving Dinner, just slip your hand under the table and give him a pat on the head.”

Right. And bring back a bloody stub. A guest tearing out of the house for the emergency room during Thanksgiving Dinner is such a downer. It’s a downer for the foolishly injured person, too, because the wait will be long at the hospital. Lots of people ‘full of in a holiday spirit’ who forgot to use a potholder taking the turkey out of the oven. Those folks often sport broken toes and charred shins. Then there are the domestic violence cases. Men with turkey legs wedged sideways in their mouths and women who lost the sweet potates and marshmellows food fight.On Thanksgiving day you have to wait forever to see a doctor….I mean, that’s what I’ve heard.

Coming:  Recipe Exclusive!  Famous Triple Stuffed Turkey

 

 

 

 

Stress. The Frog Who Flung Himself Off the Mountain

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Dateline: Lost in phone tree hell. Everyone’s been here. I see your tracks, the bloody scratches on the walls made when you tried to escape to the world of real people.

The Goal: The less you take personally in your life, the better life you will have. Thus, our goal on this site is to learn ways to live more easily and joyfully in this world. One more segment in the true life experience of a psychologist taking Dell Corporation personally.

There’s a highland jungle frog about the size of a nickel. His only means of protection is to hop, which often is not sufficient to escape his enemies. His nature is to fight and hop with everything he has, then, if these efforts fail, he clinches his little legs to his sides and throws himself off the mountain.

I now understand the wisdom of the highland jungle frog.

Set-up. To endure the following conclusion to a sad tale of society insanity, you will need to catch up reading part one and part two.

As we return to the Day of Dell, I have just been bumped out of regular Customer Service into the realm of the Executive Resolution Specialist. Executive Resolution Specialist Guy thanks me for choosing Dell and asks me to give him my name, date of birth, and the odds on Texas winning the National Football Championship. He apologizes for the day I have wasted on the phone and assures me he will solve the problem. Sigh of relief. Executive Resolution Specialist Guy puts me on hold.

He returns to the call, has the correct order, and asks for my credit card number, the only number Dell has been receptive to all day. The Executive Resolution Specialist pauses. It is that this juncture that I lose it at a psycho level.

In my family psycho enters the picture when money or getting the best deal comes into the discussion. The family crest is an emblem with the words: WE PAY OUR BILLS. In other families children grow up with warm stories of family holidays and traditions passed down from one happy generation to the next. In my family the stories are about how my predecessors made it through the depression by growing their own food in the backyard and going without shoes.

Thus–when the beast bearing the name Executive Resolution Specialist said the kryptonite words: “Ma’am your credit card has been declined,”…well, given the previous seven hours on the phone…I earthquake level lost it. I regret being in one of my favorite restaurants at that point because I would have liked to return.

We grew up in a cash up front atmosphere where paying interest or a late fee would be equal to armed robbery. Okay maybe equal to burning down a shed. Or amputating one of your own toes.

Remember the ole Pseudo Self? That part of who you are that’s negotiable depending on what other people think of you? My Pseudo Self is constructed such that when these words are said, “Your credit card has been declined” what I hear is, “Contrary to the image you give to the rest of the world…you are a DEADBEAT. You WILL go to prison!”

In response to being humiliated (strictly the realm of the pseudo self since you can only humiliate yourself) I launched a roaring rebuttal insisting that the Dell Executive Level Problem Resolver was WRONG WRONG WRONG. I went on to relate my life history as a faithful bill payer and threw around all sorts of high-sounding numbers regarding spending limits to make an impression and clarify my status in the world. I’m not saying I was upset, but one of the waiters came over and slipped a napkin into my view. A napkin that read, “Don’t worry about your check. You don’t owe us anything.”  I assume he meant the free meal as a parting gift.

The corker?  Still in a self-righteous melt-down, I called American Express where I was informed that Dell Executive Level Problem Resolver was RIGHT, RIGHT, RIGHT. Someone had called into American Express automated services and reported my card number as lost or stolen.  Yep. Screwed again in phone tree hell. And, now I sorta needed to call Dell back. I’m thinking put a towel over the phone and fake symptoms of a recent stroke.

 

 

 

 

 

The “Woman Who Couldn’t Stop Therapy” Incident

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sunflightdreamstime_5913332The “Woman Who Couldn’t Stop Therapy” Incident

Dateline: Hilton World Headquarters Branch, San Francisco.

The Scene:  A writers’ conference, the ballroom of the Intercontinental Mark Hopkins Hotel…high on Nob Hill.  The room is magic.  The guest speaker is to be a woman whose memoir (The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio, How My Mother Raised 10 Kids on 25 Words or Less) was made into a movie starring Julianne Moore and Woody Harrelson.

As writers, we’re a thoroughly insecure lot…and before meeting the guest speaker, the room is electric with admiration and envy at the same time.  The writer’s wonderful and supportive agent, Amy Rennert introduces the movie from the stage. We still haven’t seen the writing star.    

The writer is Terry Ryan.   Returning to her family home after the death of her mother, she had gone through closets and chests, as all of us must at those times. While clearing the out her mother’s things, Terry came upon the jingles her mother had written to win prizes from companies like Proctor and Gamble, and Post Cereals…prizes which literally kept the family of a housewife, a working man with a serious drinking problem, and ten children…afloat.

We watch the movie. 

Terry Ryan had served in an advisory capacity for the film, Amy Rennert explains from the stage after the movie. Amy gives a signal. The huge ballroom crowded with would be storytellers…enjoying our wine and ready to praise the movie…wait.  Wondering why the woman living out our dreams doesn’t bounce in from the wings.

Instead, we follow as Amy’s eyes drop to the floor in front of the stage. Four men lift Terry Ryan’s wheelchair up on the platform.  Two men would have been plenty.  Terry is bald and so whispy, she looks as if ready to blow away at any moment. She is in the end stage of cancer.  She knows it.  We know it.

The microphone is situated to catch her slight voice. She smiles…and shares with each of us how much finding those jingles changed her life.  We’re thinking…well, yes…you’re the lucky woman whose story was made into a movie starring Julianne Moore and Woody Harrelson. 

But we’re wrong. Terry’s excitement comes from remembering the incredible positive face her mother put on every family fear and disappointment, and there were many. Her father was frequently unemployed….and did I mention?…10 kids….

Terry is here to share her mother’s strength with a bunch of people she doesn’t know. She hopes people who see the movie realize how powerful her mother was in her life and the lives of many others.  And we do.  Oh, how we do.  The night is magic and we know how privileged we are to hear this incredible, brave woman….We know her mother is with her now, speaking through her daughter’s beautiful face, taking time to pass on her wisdom to all of us fools in our ivory tower.

Fools?  Oh, yes.  Idiots.  Idiots thinking….I’m not so happy now….but when ____happens….when I get a great agent….when I lose thirty pounds…when I fall in love…when…when…when…yes…fools, all.

Ms. Rennert asks if Terry feels up to a few questions and she agrees.  The first questioner asks, “What about the movie-making process surprised you the most?”

Terry answers, “How many people are actually on the set for each shot…inches out of camera.  There are hundreds.”  Her genuineness comes through and we send her every healing vibe we can. “But the most fun was seeing things that actually happened come back to life.”  She smiled then, and shared a few mother stories that didn’t make the cut.  We laugh with the tiny fading woman on the stage.

She tells us how privileged she feels to have had the incredible childhood she had.   

Then the “Woman Who Couldn’t Stop Therapy” waving in the second row, is acknowledged by Ms. Rennert. 

The “Woman Who” clears her throat and asks Terry Ryan:  “I was wondering….Have you ever been able to forgive your father?”

The frail lady with the bald head and the shaky voice, tilted her face as if briefly confused. “Forgive him for what?” she asked.   

The “Woman Who Couldn’t Stop Therapy” stayed true to her name. (Sometimes you have to up the ante, have to shout or repeat yourself to get another person to see things the way you do.)  “But your father punched in a wall.  He came home drunk so many times!”

Terry Ryan peered from her sunken shoulders as if looking at a creature from another planet.  “I don’t know you, Ma’am (I’m paraphrasing, it’s been a while)…But I think you’re talking about how you see my life, not the way I see my life.  I haven’t spent any of my lifetime forgiving anyone.  I didn’t need to.”

Terry Alan died 5-17-2007 at 11:11:07 PDT.

STOP Being Yourself… You are “MAKING” me ANXIOUS!

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Now, back to … as the stomach turns, we return to the hotel dining room in Kansas City (See Previous Post) … and observe the terribly dangerous and relationship-determining autographing incident.

Not only would I never asked for an autograph, I have made an art out of being next to someone famous and pretending I don’t even notice….breathing normally as if being next to celebrity is such a common experience for me. (I had the opportunity to calmly pretend to read my book at a horseshow while Patrick Swayze stood next to me watching horses warm up in the coliseum in Albuquerque. He’s shorter than you’d think.) And here’s the thing.  My special person says he loves me and I’m thinking he probably does.  And he KNOWS I freak out and get all weird and over-excited around famous people or college basketball players and thus it is very important for me to PRETEND I DON’T NOTICE I’m surrounded by famous people or college basketball players.

My special person knows how I need things to go (I’ve certainly told him often enough) … and, yet, he just goes right on being himself.  Nudging and teasing…chuckling, really.  He really likes me, too, so he thinks I’m kind of cute all nervous like that. I give him the Disapproval Death Stare”, which only makes him giggle, nudge, and he hands me a napkin and a pen…”

My Emotional Guidance System is SCREAMING.  I’m tempted to unleash the EGS monster and claim, “You couldn’t possibly care about me and keep doing this!”  To which he’d likely chortle and say, “What are you going to tell the judge?  That you were the victim of forced autograph getting?”

Here’s my 2 percent victory:  First, I recognized the anxiety before I fired shots at my special person.  I recognized my rising anxiety as something I could handle differently than I had in the past.  Usually, I would go on the offense, “What’s wrong with you?” “You‘re acting like a child.”  “You should not be doing this to me.” 

Instead, I was able to take responsibility for once.  I was quiet (but not pouty) for a few minutes.  I engaged my Thinking Guidance System… The facts: no one cares one way or the other how I conduct myself in a hotel dining room in Kansas City; most people asked for autographs are flattered and don’t consider autograph askers to be hicks and fools; there isn’t a ‘right’ and a ‘wrong’ behavior code when in the presence of celebrities and college basketball players. … and I was able to say something like, “I really admire the way you are more comfortable in public than I am.  I get all twitchy and weird even thinking about asking for an autograph, but it’s not your fault that I get all anxious.”

Okay, what I said wasn’t that good, but it was in the ballpark.

You get the idea.

Well, Now You’ve Really Hurt My Feelings, You Have Taken Charge of ME…

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  Reactivity. That’s what we’re talking about.  Learning to manage our reactivity a little bit better. (See Wildebeest post)

Reactivity to other people and the world–not as it is–as we are AFRAID  other people and the world might be.  This is particularly easy to see with the SENSITIVITY to CRITICISM.  And I know I’m not alone in this. I watch way too many shows on men and women in prison.  Prisons are petri dishes of bubbling sensitivity to criticism.

While we’re not in prison, our homes and workplaces are where we dip into the BUBBLING, SEETHING, WRETCHED, EVER-WAITING POOL OF OVERSENSITIVITY MISERY.  We are in prisons of our own making when we react to criticism.   I like the prison example because when we give up power over our own sense of well-being we give up self-possession of our lives as inmates give up physical freedom.

 Yoda Note: “The more things you take personally, the less happy life you will have.”  

Lighter Moment:  Two old guy Austin musicians chatting on stage.  One asks the other about an event they’d both played some years ago.  The other singer knitted his forehead and explained, “I can’t tell you what happened that night.  You see, I’m at the age where I can hide my own Easter Eggs.”

How Dryer Lint Can Ruin Your Life

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Oh yeah.  mv5bmje2mze5mte5nv5bml5banbnxkftztcwodi4oduymq__v1__sy140_sx100_.jpg  The accumulation of all your leftover junky thoughtstreams about your many failures and weakness.  Story later today.

   We’ve lived in the same house for years which has a large laundry room on the second level.  The dryer, like all, has a removable lint filter (cleaned often) which has behind it a tube leading through the wall to the outside.  Sometime during growing up I was told that if you didn’t keep that tube clean, it was a fire hazard.  Then I’ve seen thirty foot wire brushes designed to clear that pipe.  (Okay, it was that Air Mall catalog always in the front pocket of your seat with the marshmellow gun.)  Then there is the occasional unexplained house fire.

   Think of this pipe as a room in your brain.  This room is full of bad stuff about yourself that you remind yourself about and worry that if enough lint accumulates . . . Oh, who knows?  But it will be awful.  So we need to worry.  

  On the occasion of a new dryer I called in a chimney sweep to clear out the pipe, which after all these years, had to be disgusting.  I left him to pull the old dryer away from the wall and get to work.

   He called me in a few minutes later.

   ”Clear already?” I asked.

   “Yep.”   He stepped to the side of the pipe hole in the wall.  “Do you see that light, ma’am?”

   “Yes.”

   “That’s daylight.  There’s no pipe here accumulating anything.”

  Turns out I made the whole story up.