My Life Has Gone to the Dogs

My Health Care Pitch

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 02:53:00 +0000

So it's been broiling for a long time and I've not jumped into the melee. I dislike conflict and I dislike spouting facts that fail to portray the people and their stories behind statistics. So, here I am with this huge desire to express my opinion and since this is my blog, I'm jumping in.

I haven't heard the President say anything about health care that he didn't say during his campaign. A majority of Americans voted for him, I am guessing based on what he said during the campaign. And since that included universal health care for all Americans, I am left to surmise that the majority of Americans are in favor of universal health care.

I favor a public option for a couple of reasons, one of them being that I and my husband can be counted among the 30 to 46 million Americans who were without health care at some point during the year. Another reason I favor a public option is because, while my income has dropped my health insurance premiums are now double what they were a year ago. This is not because I now have better coverage; to the contrary, I have less coverage than before. I need something to give in the way of the cost of premiums. Believe that my spending patterns are greatly impacted by my dwindling amount of expendable income.

Never mind how it limits my company's ability to hire new employees or start new initiatives. Never mind that I have to work 9-5 mostly because we need health insurance so my entrepreneur husband is to continue his practice. Never mind that he and millions of small business owners like him will not be able offer health insurance to staff they might hire. I wonder what innovations America loses out on as great ideas are snuffed out by business plans that indicate the company could never survive if the business owner needs health insurance.

What I do not understand is this notion that we have choice in our current health care system. When I worked for the Federal government, I admit, I had choices. There were literally dozens of plans at varying costs and levels of coverage, one could truly choose a plan that seemed tailored to their particular medical needs. And it was dirt cheap because there was such a huge pool of people being insured, the risk to the insurance companies was spread out, allowing them to offer great coverage at truly remarkable prices and still profit.

I have never been offered real choices by any other employer. At best, I've been offered two plans from the same insurance company, usually a PPO and a high deductible plan. So my only realistic choices are to accept one of the two plans my employer can afford to offer. I don't choose the insurer - I accept the insurer my employer offers. I choose a doctor from a list the insurance company gives me. If my doctor isn't on their list, I have to determine whether I can afford to pay out of network copays, and when I cannot, I change doctors. My doctor prescribes the medications my insurance company has on their formulary. She sends me to the hospital or specialist my insurance company has designated. This is not real choice; choice in health care for average Americans is an illusion.

Having worked for some form of government all of my working life, I take issue with the notion that government can't do anything well. I've worked diligently as a public servant to be a good steward of the taxpayers' money. I've provided data that led to the cutting of contracts that weren't meeting their obligations. I've assisted contractors in improving their performance and ensured they billed and were paid only for work they actually did. I've bought my own pens and post it notes and calendars so there would be more money for programs and less admin costs and many of my dedicated coworkers did the same.

I know the private sector hasn't shown sterling performance and could list examples from Chrystler in 1980 all the up to Lehman Brothers in recent months. Private corporations fail and fail often. It just takes longer to uncover the failures buried under creative book keeping.

But a public option isn't about government taking over health care; it's about giving choices for those with no other options. It's time.

Reiki at Work

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 02:28:00 +0000

On Sunday, we cleaned out our bird bath and the dogs' pool. I was watering some plants and turned to see a sparrow sort of crumpled up in my bird bath. I went over and was surprised to see he was soaking wet from head to tail but still alive. I'm not sure what happened that led to his condition in my bird bath but he was clearly in trouble.

I used a small flower pot to scoop him out of the bird bath and got him into a dish towel. At no point did he struggle to get away. I don't think he was capable of struggle. I held him for a few minutes, unsure what to do. He seemed to be in a deep sleep, unbothered by my holding him.

Photo by Eric Hosking/Britannica Encyclopedia Online

Then it occurred to me to do Reiki on him.

When I finished the Reiki, I placed him in the towel in my recycle bin on my front porch. I thought that all I could really do for him at that point was protect him from the feral cats on our street and let him die in peace. Imagine my surprise when I saw him walking around on my porch a couple hours later! I kept an eye on him until he felt well enough to fly away about 30 minutes after that.

This little sparrow is my inspiration to get my second degree.

Ah, the Tea Party

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 21:10:00 +0000

I'm all for public protest. I think there should be more of it. This is America, after all! People have the right to express their opinions. How else can the people send their message to the government in a mostly non election year?

I have questions about the tea party people, though. I wonder who they are. I wonder where they grew up, who their parents are, what their parents do/did for a living, where did they go to school, did they go to college, what did they earn degrees in, what was their first job?

I wonder if any of them grew up in foster care, wards of the state. I wonder if any of them suffer from schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. I wonder if their elderly parents receive Medicaid. Did they get Pell grants, if they attended college? Did either of their parents ever lose their jobs or have to file for bankruptcy or have their homes foreclosed on?

I ask because I have this idea in my head about who these people are. I wonder how far off my idea of them is.

In high school, I joined the speech and debate team, not truly understanding what all that would entail. One year, we went to a regional competition. I needed clothing for this, I needed money for my share of the hotel room, and I needed money for food while we were away.

Thanks to my granny's Sears charge card, I got the suit I needed. My drama coach pulled money from some fund the school had to pay for the rest of my expenses. Away I went to the big city!

At the hotel, I was preparing a bath. One of my roommates mockingly (to my memory) suggested that my mother should have warned me not to bathe in a hotel, but to shower instead. I asked her what made her think my mom had ever stayed in a hotel to know to tell me that. She thought everyone took vacations and stayed in hotels. I explained that there were times we didn't know where our next meal would come from; we didn't think much about taking vacations. Vacations were for wealthy people. So were dental appointments and doctor's visits.

My parents were and still are very hard working people. Neither graduated from high school (though my mother earned her GED in her early 40's). But the reality is that I grew up rather poor. I avoided pregnancy and jail and made it out of that. By the grace of God and some ill informed yet lucky choices...and some tax dollars.

I think the tea party people would say my parents had no business having children, especially since they couldn't afford them. I think that's a fair statement. But once they did, I'm glad there were programs like Head Start, Food Stamps, the county Health Department, public schools, and buses. I'm glad there was a slush fund at my public school that could be used to pay my expenses to a regional competition and open the door to a whole new world for kids like me. I'm thankful there are Pell grants and subsidized student loans when I got out of the U.S. Army after four years and went to college. I'm thankful the Veteran's Administration is around and gave me a job for eight years, six of which I spent in evening classes. I'm grateful for the county Job and Family Services department that employed me for eight years, allowing me to give back some of the kindness, encouragement, and hope I have received along the way.

Without the interventions I benefited from throughout my early life, I'd probably be just another poor person in Eastern Kentucky. I may have had little to offer society as a whole. I might have turned to a life of crime and ended up costing tax payers plenty for absolutely no return. Or abused my poorly planned for children or been plagued with some expensive illness.

Instead, I've more than paid back what I received. I've contributed to moving countless families to self sufficiency. I've advocated for the disabled and the severely mentally ill. I've been a steward of the tax payer's dollars. I've been instrumental in saving the government money through my abilities to gather, analyze, and report on how funds have been spent and making recommendations on where the funds might be saved or better spent.

My ideas about who the tea party people are do not include people like me. They include people with very different realities, very different families, and very different knowledge about what people can do with a little encouragement and assistance. I'd have rather grown up as I did than to be able to ignore these kinds of realities.

The tea party people might think they would be okay with letting the poor starve or let the uninsured die, let banks and car companies fail. But there are high costs associated with those decisions. Higher crime, entire industries (social services, colleges, and countless others) shut out. Pure capitalism is intriguing in theory. But there are so many things that people need and want to have an acceptable quality of life that just aren't profitable.

I'd like to see some demographic information about the tea party people. I'd like to hear their ideas on how to improve our current situation. I'm hoping I'm missing some important element about who these people are and that they really have thought about things like what should happen to people like me.

Twitter and Business

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 00:16:00 +0000

It seems to me that everybody's a social media expert these days. It's weird. There are millions of people living their lives without "new media". I go to meetings with highly educated professionals who are clueless about blogging, Facebook, and most of all, Twitter. I'm disturbed by all of the articles written to help businesses learn how to use social media for advertising, recruiting, and customer service because I think they miss the point.

Here's the way I view Twitter. It's a relationship and community building tool. If you own a business and you want to use a tool like Twitter to help you grow your business, hire a person to Twitter for your company. Make it that person's job to cultivate relationships with people who are potential customers. Tell that person that they are NOT in sales; they are in the relationship building business. THEN, Twitter might become a successful way for you to grow your business. This is because, when I need a plumber, I'll remember the person I've joked around with, the person who sent out a link to a really interesting article on water conservation. I'll remember that I KNOW a plumber and that's when using Twitter will pay off. Twitter is like word of mouth advertising - you can't pay for it, you can't truly monitor it, and it may be months before the customer shows up at your door.

Both my husband and I use Twitter. I use it primarily for the social aspects of it. I find out what's happening around town, I go to TweetUps and other events arranged using Twitter. Hubby shares bits of advice, positive vibes, and all around good will. I don't know if it has grown his business or not but people know who he is and that he is a therapist. I do know that we've eaten at restaurants because we saw a tweet about them - whether they were advertising a great special of the day or someone we follow recommended them.

That's Twitter's power for boosting business. You can't simply show up, send a tweet, and watch the money flow into your bank account. I know there are lots of ebooks and seminars out there that want you to believe differently but I think they are wrong.

The Stimulus Package and Me

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 19:57:00 +0000

Thanks to the stimulus package, there is room in the budget to extend my contract and give me more work hours! With the extra money, I should be able to afford subsidized COBRA payments! I cannot tell you what a relief this is to me. So, it's not a full time job yet but it will keep me from filing for unemployment benefits for some time. It will also allow me to provide my family with health insurance. The stimulus was supposed to create jobs and I think this counts as one.

In the meantime, I am still offering web presence development to small businesses. I'm also venturing in another direction. I've decided that I am, by my very nature, a life coach. I recently took a Strengths Finder assessment and it confirmed what people who know me already know. My strengths are:

Adaptibility - I'm a here and now, go with the flow person
Relator - I'm genuine and authentic, friends value my advice
Connectedness - I believe there is an inherent, invisible unity among us
Developer - I get satisfaction from the growth of others
Maximizer - I focus on strengths and manage around weaknesses

Add a degree in Social Work, a minor in Sociology, a career dedicated to helping others, and I think you end up with a Life Coach. To prepare for working with clients, I've purchased professional liability insurance and I am studying a variety of coaching techniques. I'm learning that coaching and social work have a lot of common themes; both focus largely on what is possible.

I am also developing my own ideas on coaching. A theme that keeps coming up for me in my studies is that, so often people make decisions based on doing what is "smart". As some of my friends and family have heard me say from time to time, "Doing what is smart isn't always the right thing for you".

I've not lost my mind and started thinking I can immediately support myself working as a life coach. I'll continue to search out reasonable opportunities for a full time job. I know building a client list takes time. After all, I've spent the last year helping Dennis launch his practice.

I also know that I cannot wait for a good time to get this started. There are some things you do because you want to, not because the timing is perfect (like buying a house or having a baby). If I wait for the "right" time, it might never come.

From Sept 2003 - The Bat Blog!

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 01:10:00 +0000

This incident still makes me laugh!

__________________________________

It was Friday night. Johnny Cash died and Dennis and I were looking forward to heading out to a downtown club where various bands would be doing a tribute to the Man in Black.

Because we are getting old, preparation for going out on a Friday night after 9pm includes taking a nap. I took a short nap, as Maggie, the Hound from the Pound, feels that I, like she, napped all day and now it's time to PLAY! I was a little irritable but I decided to go ahead and take my bath. I was almost finished with the jungle that was the hair growth on my right leg when I heard an odd sound from upstairs.

The sound was loud, a bit high pitched and followed by the sounds of many footfalls, like maybe a 190 pound man was running for his life. This alarmed me enough to put the machete down, grab my towel and go see what the matter might be.

"Honey? Everything okay up there?"

Dennis replied, "There's a...*shriek*...a bird...*pant gasp*...flying around up...oh Jesus! *stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp*...here!!!"

I took a couple steps back, away from the stairs, eyes turned upward. "Are you sure it's a bird?" I asked. I must admit, somewhere in my mind, I seriously considered just closing my door and letting him work it out on his own. "Turn off your ceiling fans so it doesn't get hit, okay?"

"I think it's...ohfuck...a bird..."

".........How big is it?"

"Fucken big enough!" This last followed by the sounds of more running.

"Do you want me to come up?" I asked. After all, he's my soulmate and stuff and I should not close my door and pretend he's not fighting for his life and home up there, right?

But, instead of answering, he came down the stairs, ever looking over his shoulder as if the killer avian might just follow him down. His face was red from all the running and somewhere along the line, he'd skinned his knee. He was sweaty and breathing really hard.

Huddled at the bottom of the stairs, we surmised how it might have gotten in. We discussed whether it was really a bird. We wondered if maybe Grace (his clawless cat) would catch it and what sort of mess that might make.

Once, I had a bird in my apartment. My sister and I were able to throw a sheet over it, catch it, and take it back outside without harming a feather. Having shared this story with Dennis, we went back upstairs together.

I was standing by the hallway closet near the stairs as Dennis went room to room to find this mystery dive bombing bird. Grace huddled near my feet and I assumed she was there because she was pretty freaked out. Dennis is not one to run around the house shrieking and waving his arms like a maniac on fire. Grace must have been traumatized having been a witness to her Master's sudden change of personality.

"I can't find it," he told me. This did not bring me any comfort as I would rather having it flying about and KNOW where it is than to think it gone only to find it unexpectedly while I'm peeing or something equally vulnerable. Then he asked the question that would forever change our lives and mar us for eternity.

"Where's Grace?"

"She's right here in the closet...."

*blink*

Gracie has it! In the closet!! And I am as far from that friggin closet as I can get in record time. I think I took one large leap and I was 10 feet away. I was all about getting the hell away from the killer avian.

The first wave of the willies pass over me and I have a momentary return to sanity. This moment was all I needed to think to get the flashlight. I return to the closet with said flashlight to find Dennis seriously contemplating moving stuff out of the closet and removing the bird with a towel, a broom, and a dustpan.

Grace seems utterly disgusted with our interference with her little science project and slinks off to the dining room. I shine the flashlight to the lump in the back corner. The second wave of the willies pass over me and I turned to Dennis to say, "that is not a bird. THAT - is a bat!".

We wig out for a few moments, eyes never leaving the lump in the closet that is now Enemy Number One. It does not move. It does not twitch, nor does it bleed or make a sound. Maybe it's dead, we both think. That would make things a little easier, now wouldn't it?

He takes this moment to explain these strange turn of events. He was in the dining room, reading his email when he noticed Grace circling the room with a fast clip. He thought maybe a moth or something had gotten in. Then he felt the flutter of wings near his face, hence the first shriek of "OHJESUS" *stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp* I'd heard while clearing the jungle from my leg.

Dennis starts moving things out of the closet. I hold the flashlight on the bat and it still has not stirred. The closet is deep and it has shelving and no door. Dennis kneels down and tosses a towel toward the unmoving lump. He misses by several inches but still the bat does not move. Time for the broom and dustpan. Except when he touches the broom to it, we hear a clicky hissy sound and I scream and he yells, "OHSHIT!".

He stops with the broom thing and we laugh because we believe not only do we have a bat in the closet, we also have a clicky hissy bug.

Back to the bat with the broom. But this time it DOES move and guess what??? That clicky hissy sound?? That's not some bug in the closet; it's coming from one very alive bat! I scream and he screams and we scurry on hands and knees away from the closet.

We are SO brave.

The bat comes OUT of the closet and starts flying all over. We are ducking and running and screaming like school girls at the sight of a snake, falling over each other in our need to be NOT where the bat is. The bat flies into the living room and we close the two doors that will isolate him to that room. Skulking and scurrying, we open the windows and the screens. Our hope is he'd rather be out than in. We come downstairs and try not to think about the bat.

We fail miserably and trudge reluctantly back up the stairs. The bat is now clinging to the mini blind, his wings spread out and Dennis says something about "big rat with wings" for the hundredth time. "Rats are much bigger than this bat," I keep reminding him.

The bat is SO close to the open window, so close to it's freedom and the end of it's reign of terror against our household. I talk Dennis into using a box to cover the bat. Then, we can just slide the box down to the open window and out it'll go! Right?

The bat disliked the box so much, rather than fly into it, it crawled OUT of it as I was moving it downward. Again with the screaming and shrieking and running in all directions as the bat takes flight again. By now, Dennis has apologized to me for being so afraid almost as many times as he's referred to the bat as a "big rat with wings".

Again the bat lights and this time it's in the bedroom. The new plan is to get it on another flat surface and throw a sheet over it. I hold the sheet in front of me like some protective shield as Dennis pokes at the bat with a broom. It flies and Dennis runs, all skinned knees and elbows past me into the bathroom. The bat lands on the floor, menacingly spreading out it's wings to look as big and scary as it can for a creature weighing less than a pack of cigarettes.

I'm ready with the sheet, not having moved since the blur that is Dennis went rushing past me. I am about to launch the sheet over the bat when Dennis decides to pull me into the safety of the bathroom with him. I believe he thought I was paralyzed with fear. I screamed and the bat AGAIN took flight, this time right at us into the bathroom. I think it was getting sick of the screaming and running. I dove onto the bed, Dennis ran the other way into the hall. The bat dove around my head and I was laughing/crying/screaming and I ripped out of the bedroom and took cover in the bathtub. I sat there for a very long time, laughing hysterically.

By this time, Dennis and I were just exhausted. It was too late to go out now as we'd both need to shower again and the bat was holding Dennis' clothes hostage in his bedroom. We closed off the bedroom and headed downstairs to my apartment. The windows and screens in his room were open. The lights were all off. The cat couldn't get in, neither to eat the bat nor to jump out the windows.

We slept in my apartment. The next morning, a thorough yet guarded search of the upstairs bedroom revealed no bat. Victory was ours!

S-T-R-E-S-S

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 18:05:00 +0000

Okay, I'm a little stressed about this unemployed business. I am taking the suggestions of one really smart lady I am so lucky to know and I'm rearranging my resume. This is not as easy as one might think - since I am looking for a different kind of job than I've had, I need to concentrate on my skills and my measurable outcomes. I've got 90 tabs of resume examples and what I really need is to go to the boxes still in my car and dig out some of my evaluations. I can't remember what the fuck I have accomplished. And I have a rule about not remembering things I can look up somewhere; I just remember where to look things up. Saves space in my limited capacity brain.

So, I thought I'd blog as a diversion. But then I couldn't really think of anything interesting to blog about. So then I went to look up my old blog on Xanga (because someone on Twitter asked if anyone was blogging in 2002 and I thought maybe I was but I wasn't - until 2003). So then I thought that maybe I'd pull some of my better, more interesting blogs from Xanga and repost them here as "blasts from the past". It was at that point that I wrote out the above introduction and decided to tell you all about my thought process and what brought me to this point.

I was going to share with you one of the most hilarious events of my life but as you can see, the introduction and the entire sharing of the thought process have pretty much made for a blog post all their own. So I will do the blasts from the past later, sometime. Probably before I ever finish the "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" series. Sorry about that. I can't be disciplined in ALL areas of my life! I've allowed blogging and housekeeping to be my "discipline free" zones, apparently.

What Smaller Government Means to Me

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Fri, 21 Nov 2008 20:38:00 +0000

It means I don't have a damned job, is what it means. Yesterday, after working for Hamilton County Job and Family Services for eight years, I was laid off. I was a layoff virgin. No more. In all of my relationships and jobs, I've been the one who chose to leave, so this is new territory for me. It's scary, with the crappy job market out there. I've gotten no new clients for my business, Web Presence diva.

Yet I am optimistic and here's why. During the Great Depression, the unemployment rate hit 25%!! That means that 75% WERE employed (yeah, I know it doesn't really mean that but I am going with it because it keeps me from slashing my wrists)! Seventy five percent is pretty good and it means the odds are in my favor.

I've posted my resume at Ohio Means Jobs. I'm LinkedIn. My job was in Workforce Development, so I know what I'm eligible for at Super Jobs. Of course, I don't know who to complain to in the event I am dissatisfied with the service I receive; I happen to know that the Complaint Officer was laid off yesterday...

Anyway, there were articles in the paper about the layoffs at JFS. People are ill informed about how their local, state, and federal governments work or they wouldn't make the stupid comments they do. JFS is funded primarily by the state and the feds. The county commissioners have no power to cut off or reduce the benefit amounts poor people get. I also know that there are some government workers who suck. But, there is a myth about government work and civil servants not working very hard and getting lots of great benefits. I've always had to work pretty damned hard and I've nearly always worked for either local or federal government. The government has been doing more with less for a long freakin' time so I don't know what all these ass hats are complaining about. Government workers are scrutinized from all angles. All those comments in the paper are usually written during the day, when the ass hats are at their demanding jobs, earning every damned dime they get, right? Do you think government workers can get away with being online and commenting at work? Well, they can, a little bit, but their internet usage is closely monitored and they'll get written up and disciplined for excessive usage. I know because I got written up for it once.

And while I'm ranting about how ill informed people are, based on the stupid things they say in their comments in the online Cincinnati Enquirer, people on public assistance have to work pretty hard to stay on it. There are work requirements and people either show up to the places where they're assigned or they get sanctioned. When they get sanctioned, they have to comply with their plan to participate in a work activity. Getting and keeping a regular job is much easier; if there are people who think they can kick back and enjoy living off the government teet, they learn pretty quick that this is a hard way to live large.

I know some people do it and I still think it's harder than actually working.

And who are all these lazy, baby factories anyways? First, some are people, usually women, who have children and have either (a) gotten a rough start to begin with, meaning they have no other support system (like parents, a spouse, committed significant other) or (b) someone who's circumstances changed rapidly from the good life they were leading, meaning their world fell apart due to some grave illness, loss of spouse, etc. Those people will do what they have to do to get on their feet and they'll move on to live very productive lives, giving back far more than they ever got from the taxpayers. I've found, for the most part, they're not very bright people. I mean that they have low IQ's, they're slow, so slow that they have a hard time functioning in the world like those of us with an IQ of 100 or better do. I've also found that there's a lot of mental illness that no one bothers to consider. It goes undiagnosed for a lot of reasons. One being that it's harder than hell to get into a public mental health clinic for diagnosis. Another being that people don't realize there's something wrong with them. And smart, healthy people seem to be really okay with people not getting diagnosed because, I believe, that if they accepted how common mental illness is, they might have to admit that they're not as fucking okay as they pretend to be either.

Our society demands a lot from people these days and it doesn't offer a lot to those who just cannot learn to read or do math or hold their temper. There aren't a lot of mindless jobs any more. And before a bunch of slow, mentally ill people come here and jump my ass, I'm advocating for you...err...I am taking up for you! So hush! I'm saying that we can't all be Quality Review Analysts or Financial Wizards or Administrative Assistants or Insurance Salesmen. Some people are best suited for "push this button when the thingie lands on the X. Count to five and then push this button to move the thingie down the line". And we just don't have button pushing, counting to five jobs in abundance any longer.

So anyway, I got laid off. I'm looking for a position that will allow me to create order out of chaos, be compassionate, analyze some data, put it in a comprehensive report, and make my boss look really smart. I want to bring a social worker's perspective to the business table. I thrive in newly created positions that allow me to figure out what my boss actually needs. I like searching the internet for the newest cool trend that works. I like to hear the ideas of others and then tell them why that won't work so they can plug those holes before they take it to the CEO; I like to make great ideas better. That's what I'm good at, that's what I enjoy doing, and eventually, I will get to do those things again for someone who will gladly pay me what I'm worth.

Oh, Hi! How've You Been?

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Sun, 09 Nov 2008 04:39:00 +0000

I apologize to both of my readers; I have been long absent from the blogosphere. This is due to the Election. Rather than bombard you both with my far left liberal babble, I just didn't blog. And that's all I'd have been able to write, so embroiled I was in the talking points and insanity. So really, I've spared you! Rejoice!

I am elated at the election's outcome, that Obama will be our new Prez. I am delighted that the US has elected a black man as their next president. But that's really just an added bonus, the blackness, you know? We really chose a well educated, thoughtful, calm, and calculating man. We chose to stop being afraid, to not go with the "safe" bet and we put all our money on the smart guy. Not only is he intelligent, but he's been through much of what many of us have been through - raised by white people, a child of divorce, with a single mom. He's also been through some stuff I can only imagine - having to figure out his place in the world as a black man in a very white world, living abroad as a child, moving through a world his caretakers were not equipped to help him navigate.

I do not think he will be able to accomplish all that he campaigned on. I do think he will be able to keep the far left on a more centered path. I think he has, in many ways, given hope to many, particularly our youth. He had a lot of strikes against him and he still prevailed; if he can, anyone can! How freakin' cool is that???

So, there it is. My blog about the election. I was going to rant about the anti gay marriage stuff too but I think I'll save that for another blog of it's own. Because I have questions. Because I don't get it. I'll get to those questions soon and I'll keep looking for answers that make sense. I hope both of you are glad I'm back because I'm glad to be here!

Back from Vacation!

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Thu, 25 Sep 2008 01:21:00 +0000

On September 12th, I headed south to North Carolina to visit my sisters, mom, niece, and nephew. I also got to spend an afternoon with my bestest friend!

I took The Pomeranian, Sammy Bear, with me and I was utterly shocked at how well he behaved. He rode for 12 hours (!!!) in the car on the way down without complaint. He dined on french fries, chewed ice cubes, and pooped on numerous grassy areas across five states. He raised his little Pomeranian back leg as high as it would go and marked the corners of upward of 10 different McDonald's parking lots. I was so proud!

My mom and sister live WAY out in the country. In some ways, this vacation crushed some long held dreams for me. Like my dream of living WAY out in the country. I don't dream that any more. I could not live that far away from a real grocery store. At night, there are no lights. NONE. I discovered that I require intermittent street lighting. I require some level of noise that indicates life continues despite my slumber. I need diversity and I need to be among people who do not stare with hostility at everyone who does not look exactly like them.

I drove by my old house. And felt nothing. I felt no twang of longing, no guilt, no bitterness, nor sadness. It felt like I was looking at a house I'd driven by many times but not like I was looking at a house I'd lived in for 8 years.

I had pictures taken with my sisters, I taught my niece some belly dancing moves, and I listened to some tall tales from my nephew. I got to spend a day with my mom, just me and her. I got to spend a day with my best friend and finally meet her dogs and her new husband. I ate twice at my favorite NC style barbeque restaurant.

I had a great vacation and I missed power outages and roof repairs. But more than that, I missed my husband, my house, and my other dogs. I want very much to live closer to my family but mostly, I want to be home.

On Choosing to be a Waitress

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 21:56:00 +0000

This post is really just to give people something to think about.

Now, I've been called a liberal, like it's a bad word. I'm okay with that. I'm sorry that people are so polarized in their stances that they villainize the other side. But calling me a liberal is like calling me white bread or cracker or crazy white bitch. I just fail to be insulted because I am not ashamed of who I am.

So, there's some information for you. You're reading the blog of a stinkin' liberal, tree hugging, left wing...err...whatever else "they" call "us".

Now on to my story. Long ago, there was a group of my coworkers that would go out to lunch together now and then. Our favorite spot was a Mexican restaurant just up the street. They had great food and good service, which is important when you're going to lunch from work.

One woman in our group simply refused to leave a tip. Ever. I asked her once why she felt it was okay to not leave the waitress a tip. Her feeling was that she'd paid for her food and she wasn't obligated to supplement the woman's income. I asked if she understood that the waitress made $2.00 or so per hour. She responded that it wasn't her fault that our waitress chose to be a waitress.

Before the waitresses of the world descend upon me, let me say that I am very thankful for wait people. I've been a waitress. It can be a very tough job and expectations from your patrons, your boss, and the cook are very, very high. You have my utmost respect and I will always leave you at least a decent tip, even if you didn't meet my expectations. This is because I understand that much of your ability to perform your job well depends a great deal on things beyond your control.

So now that the waitresses of the world understand where I am coming from, I'll tell you what I told my coworker right before I told her I wasn't going to any more lunches with her.

I don't know anyone who dreamed as a child of being a waitress. Oh, we PLAYED waitress and it was fun! But we didn't dream of spending 8 to 12 mostly thankless hours mostly on our feet, running our asses off for two bucks and change an hour. We didn't study Flo on Alice, trying to pick up hints on the best way to tell patrons that the prime rib was sold out and still score that big tip. We didn't imagine our hands red and chapped, lifting 50 pound bags of milk, making elebenty billion pots of coffee, or hung over old men swatting on our asses as we passed by with a platter of pancakes.

Here's the deal, people. Not everyone makes it through high school, let alone college. Not everyone was encouraged, let alone expected, to get decent grades and get into a good school. Some of us got very little information about the possibility of college. Some of us were discouraged from thinking we'd be good enough for post secondary education. Some of us were told there was no money for such extravagances as additional education that we wouldn't need anyway because we were going to get married and have babies and support our husbands by keeping a clean house.

Among those who grew up in even the middle class, not just the upper class, there seems to be some confusion about how poor people got to be poor. That somehow, poor people really choose to be poor or they are just too lazy to do anything to change their situation. There is some belief that everyone has the same opportunities as everyone else. There's some idea out there that if you just work hard enough, you can be anything you want. And I think that is bullshit. I think until you are out in the world without a safety net, you will continue to buy into that bullshit - and I think it's because it helps you maintain the illusion that YOU could never be truly poor.

Not everyone has the money, the support, or the options that YOU have had. Some of us have had no safety net. We ARE the safety net. There are no parents with some money tucked away for emergencies for some of us. There's no house to take out a loan against. There's no savings account to send us to college or pay for our glitzy wedding or make the down payment on our first house. There's no credit line, hell, no credit! to cosign a loan.

Every now and then, one of us low lives born to poor people escapes. Sometimes it's because of extraordinary intelligence, a teacher or mentor who saw beyond our stringy hair and hand me down clothes, a fortunate mistake, or some other crazy glitch in the system. We get out of the grip of poverty - we finish high school, we manage to NOT get pregnant, we zig when others might have zagged, and we find ourselves with money left at the end of the month. And we stare at that bank balance in AWE!

But not everyone has that miraculous misstep that leads them out of their parents' fate. There's a reason why everyone doesn't hold a college degree. There's a reason some people are janitors, cooks, truck drivers, pharmacy technicians, mechanics, book binders, paper makers, golf caddies, hot dog vendors, soldiers, and waitresses.

And it may not be because they are fulfilling a life long dream. It may be that they didn't have the encouragement or the support others seem to take for granted and pretend we're all entitled to.

Be generous with your time and money and be stingy with your judgments and preconceived notions. And tip your waitress!!

The Best F**ing News Team Ever

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 22:16:00 +0000

I prefer my pseudo news low and to the left.

Be Careful What You Say

And dammit, blogger won't let me embed it here and viacom made Youtube remove it. It's the MAN and he's trying to KEEP ME DOWN!

Nostalgia - The Bad, Part II

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 23:20:00 +0000

So, on June 1st, 1985, I found myself in uncharted waters. I had escaped the fate of my mother and my grandmother and many of my numerous cousins. I was not married to a coal miner; I would not awaken long before dawn to make coffee and sandwiches six days a week. I would not send my man off into some pit or onto some mountain top all sparkly clean just to have him come home some 10 or 12 hours later, hands and face coated with coal dust, so that the whites of his eyes popped out at me.

No, I was a soldier's wife. I would awaken before dawn, squint, and fall back to sleep. I'd wake up around mid morning and wonder what I was going to do to fill my day. Sheer boredom granted me the cleanest rented mobile home I have ever stepped foot in (and I've been in some that have never even been lived in). You could eat off my floors and drink out of my sparkling white toilet bowl. I kid you not.

At some point, I got a job I could walk to. I worked at a dry cleaner's, where I learned how to sew the little tags on the Army guys' uniforms. I learned exactly where everything went on the shirts and on the Army Class A's. There's an Air Force base near Ft. Bragg so I would occasionally get one of those. It wasn't much and it didn't pay much but there was almost no pressure, no stress. I'd give it a B- as far as unskilled labor goes.

But things started happening in my little love nest. My man started not coming home. Checks started bouncing. There were bills I couldn't pay. My roller rink honey had always loved some decent weed and I thought being in the Army would cure him of that. But it's funny how all the pot heads can find each other, even in the Army. And that's exactly what happened to my honey. He apparently hooked up with every pot head in the 82nd Airborne sometime between Christmas 1984 and June 1985.

I can remember being at the mobile homes of other Army wives on Saturday nights. All of his buddies had newborns, it seemed like. We'd be playing cards and someone would light a joint. Pot has always just immobilized me; I'd get the giggles and crave Doritos but I just couldn't move. I'd watch in amazement as the Army wives changed diapers and made bottles and fed babies; I knew I would never be able to do that. I knew I couldn't bring a baby into this situation, knew that my roller rink honey wasn't going to pull it together, knew that I was going to have to find a way to pull us out of this.

So, in February 1986, I joined the Army. We desperately needed the money. I desperately needed to have a life with more in it than what we'd seen thus far. I really only meant to join the reserves. You know, maybe be a medic and be gone for 8 weeks for basic training and a couple months for medic training. Then I'd be back and we'd have this extra income every month.

But recruiters are slick, you know? I got kick ass scores on their tests; I could choose any profession I wanted, almost. So I picked pharmacy technician, I think because some girl I knew in school and could never stand was going to be a pharmacist. How's THAT for a way to choose a career path?? I'd be working in a pharmacy and she'd still be in her second year of college. So there! Hah!!

But there was a hitch, you know? If I wanted to be a pharmacy technician, I had to join the real Army. For four years. And I'd have a life long trade when I got out. And I'd have a full time job with a full time pay check. And I could come back to Ft. Bragg, once I finished training and signed a waiver saying I didn't want to go to Germany like my orders would say I was going. And I would be gone for about 6 to 8 months but that's not SO long, really, you know?

Oh, my man was PISSED!! I thought the top of his head was going to explode. But then he lit a joint and I knew I'd made the right decision.

Nostalgia - The Bad, Part I

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 23:14:00 +0000

So, a long time ago, I was in the US Army. I was only in for 4 years and I never left the country. In fact, I was practically a civilian most of the time because I was a pharmacy technician (91Q hoo-ah!). I worked in a hospital.

There was a time when I thought I would go to college and become a high school English teacher. If you've read anything I've written, it is clear to you that I either became the worst English teacher ever or the truth reveals to you that dream was never realized.

I'm not bitter about not having been able to live my childhood dream. That's probably because so many other very cool things have happened to me. I did eventually get to college and I did get a degree. I just have issues with following society's prescribed sequence of events and that's not on purpose. It's just how things shake out for me. At any rate, not to spoil the ending or anything, just keep in mind, that given all of the things that might have gone another way, I'm happy with how things have turned out so far.

My path to the Army presented itself during the summer before my freshman year of high school. I went roller skating nearly every Saturday that summer. I couldn't do any tricky moves but I rarely fell down. It was a grand summer, I recall but the details are very fuzzy. Had I known that the events taking place that summer would have such a huge impact on my life, I'd have paid much closer attention!

There was this boy at the skating rink. He was just stinkin' adorable and he could skate really well. He really preferred to play video games though. Oddly, I don't think anything happened between us that summer. I don't remember us skating together or kissing or even learning each other's names. Maybe I just stalked him. I just can't remember.

In the fall, I was anxious about going back to school. I was pretty smart and I got good grades. I thought maybe I was a big fish in a small pond and I was about to become a small fish in a big pond, if you know what I mean. So, I was worried about all that and the idea that maybe I wasn't really all that smart at all. I was also worried about being not very pretty, being incredibly shy, and now I was certain that I might not be very bright to boot. I was pretty insecure walking in those doors.

But there was this boy, from the skating rink. I was running into him all the time. He was everywhere, it seemed. And he was funny; he made me laugh. Next thing you know, I have a boyfriend! I'm dating! Well, sort of dating...we didn't actually GO anywhere but we were "going together". Maybe that was my first clue. About not going anywhere. But who could know? I was 15 and I was IN LOVE!!!

There was a lot of stuff in between that would make this story way too long (like it isn't already!). He graduated a year before me and by fall, he had joined the Army. I had a year left in school. He'd be gone. It was unbearable to consider. I thought I'd lose him to the world and I think he thought he'd lose me too...to what, I can't imagine. Good sense?

So we did what any pair of 18 year olds would do in this situation in the mid 80's, in Eastern Kentucky. We got married. On Christmas Day. He went off into the world (aka Ft. Bragg, NC) and I stayed with my mom and finished high school. Graduation night, I stuffed the car he'd sent money for with all our worldly possessions. The next morning, I was on the road to North Carolina. A new adult life, a husband, a little mobile home waiting to be filled with towels and sheets and groceries. I was escaping and I could barely wait to get started with the rest of my life.

More soon.

Nostalgia, The Good

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 22:01:00 +0000

I am reading about kundalini meditation and the author writes about when we are children, how we experience our kundalini energy often. He encourages the reader to think back on their childhood and remember a time when you experienced this energy.

I was a very imaginative child; I was a singleton until I was five. I think because I had no built in playmate, I made up stories to entertain myself. Most of the stories I made up when I was three don't make sense to me now. I remember feeling like I was on an adventure every time I played, though.

I wish I could remember more of the details. Like, I can remember "escaping" to the park (much to my mother's dismay) and I spoke to the squirrels as I walked, explaining to them that my father was away on business (I don't recall his profession at that time but he came home every evening). Then a helicopter flew overhead and I told the squirrels, who were of course simply enthralled, that my father was in the helicopter on his way to his job. I waved to him and encouraged the squirrels to do the same.

And then Mom found me (I know the park was too far away for a 3 year old to go alone but really, you could see it from our backyard and there were no streets to cross to get there). She was very upset that I'd wandered so far. I must have scared the crap out of her! (which was also a lot of fun!)

So, it was those sorts of days that I thought of when I reflected on blissful moments from my childhood; when I felt uninhibited by society, when I conversed out loud with squirrels, and waved to helicopters. The time before responsibilities, convention, needing to explain myself or defend my thoughts. It was all very simple and rich.

Saturday Ramblings

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 15:21:00 +0000

I don't know what is spewing pollen this time of year in Cincinnati, but it is kicking my allergic ass. I have been congested and coughing for nearly two weeks! I did go to the doctor (and believe me, that means I feel like crud!) and she thought perhaps I had a sinus infection. I completed a course of antibiotics but my symptoms still persist.

This is putting a serious damper on my ability to do stuff! Stuff like, think clearly. Breathe. Not to mention sleep, sex, work - not necessarily in that order.

I am going to get my hair cut today at a salon I haven't been to before - la petite salon & spa. I hope I don't cough at the wrong time and end up having to shave my head to even it out. I'll let you know how it goes!

Then I am going to Kohl's to do some shopping. They're having a sale and hubby has a credit card there. Woot! Maybe then I will feel up to some lovin' time with hubby!

All of this is a diversion so that I do not think about all the serious stuff at work. On Monday, I will complete a matrix that details what I do all day, explain why that work is relevant and important, and whether I have capacity for more work and what I'd prefer that work be or not be. I felt somewhat encouraged that my initial response to receiving this form was annoyance that I didn't have time to fill it out because I have relevant and important work to do!

For now, I am off to guzzle some more generic Robotussin DM, shower, and hope I have something clean and presentable to wear to the salon. Have a great Saturday!

Things I Want to Tell My Therapist

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 01:07:00 +0000

So, except for some research and tweaking my website, I’m not working on my business venture until I get back from vacation in the middle of September. That leaves me with very little to blog about except for my personal ramblings and goings on.

Which is why I haven’t blogged. Because I’ve been saving up stuff to tell my therapist. But he’s currently on vacation and then booked until August 27th. That leaves me with repeating myself to my husband or sharing my inner turmoil with the blogosphere. Lucky you.

Everybody has issues, ya know? From the frivolous, blown out of proportion childhood slights to the truly life altering, high impact childhood trauma – none of us believes we’re completely normal. I’m no exception. Being married to the world’s greatest therapist doesn’t give me a free pass to normalcy.

My biggest and longest lasting issue is my inability to relate to other women except in the most superficial of ways. Once I become comfortable with women, I seem to alienate myself from them. This is because, I think, I tend to mistake complaining for unhappiness. Unhappiness bothers me, particularly now, when I am happier than I ever imagined I could be. Except for my inability to relate to women without giving them advice and urging them to do things for themselves that would seemingly improve their level of happiness. If I’m complaining to someone, I’m looking for solutions to a problem. This is simply not true for everyone. Sometimes people just want to complain; I think a huge portion of our society relates to others through shared misery. So my friends aren’t looking for suggestions; they’re just trying to relate to me. I think. I’m not completely sure, which is why I want to talk to my therapist about it.

So, I don’t know. It seems like other women are able to have friends and I have some endearing qualities that should enable me to have friends too, right? But then I hear people talking about their friends and I think, “oh…if you can’t tell her she has broccoli in her teeth, are you really friends?”. I mean, I tell complete strangers that they have crud in their teeth. I want to know if I have something in MY teeth that is so distracting that you cannot concentrate on what I am actually saying. I would expect a friend to tell me something like that. But that’s not my point, really. My point is that what I would call an acquaintance, other people call a friend. I apparently have a warped sense of what friends should be.

I blame my sisters for this. I sort of think that friends should be something like my sisters. I am great friends with my sisters. We understand each other, we respect each other, we try to help each other out. We don’t always agree but often we do. And when we don’t, we just sort of keep on loving each other, each thinking the other is stupid but still thinking they’re essentially good and when they have such and such a situation, then they’ll understand that I’m right.
So, I once asked an astrologer if there was something in my chart that caused me to clash so much with women. And when I say “clash”, I don’t mean we get into arguments. I mean there is something that I do that causes people to eventually do or say things that intentionally hurt my feelings. With malice.

But, I was talking about the astrologer and she said I have an ego as big as a room. She said I have Saturn in aspect to my natal Venus, Moon square. She said I must learn to humble myself. Is that not just disturbing? Plus, that was two and a half years ago and I’m no better than I was. So these are the things I want to discuss with my therapist. I want to connect to other women. I want to be able to have more than superficial relationships with women.

Now don’t you wish I was working on my business venture?

Sometimes Fantasy > Reality

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 22:42:00 +0000

I had it in my mind a few years ago that I'd like to own a doggy daycare. Like a mom who wants to stay home with her kids and starts a daycare, I could just envision the fun of it all! Romps in the grass, wading pools, tennis balls everywhere. I'd need to buy stock in bleach and dyson! It was going to be great!

I started working on a business plan, checking out the competition, going rates, and researching the cost of rent for a space that would house such a business. And my dream went quickly down the drain as reality took over. I couldn't make it work in my head or on paper. I'd have to hire people, offer a variety of services, and (here is the deal killer) I'd probably have to work 18 hours a day 6 or 7 days a week. For a long time. And I'd probably only pull in $10/hour for a good portion of that long time.

If I'd had the capital and the connections, it's very possible it would have worked out. I had neither at the time, nor do I now. It all quickly got too big and outside my comfort zone much too fast.

Because I'm willing to work. I'm willing to work hard. And I love dogs. I have three of my own and I volunteer for the SPCA. To get paid to play with dogs all day would just rock! But not enough to eat kibble myself and be "at work" all the time when I'm not sleeping.

So, as I have for so very long now, I kept my day job. I got a more interesting day job for the same government agency. Then I got an even more interesting day job that paid me more for the same government agency. And with that last job, I've gained something I haven't had before and something I would work for less money for, if I ever had to. What is it I'd potentially take less money to keep??

Flexibility.

I don't have a TON of it but I do have some. It is the government, after all. But as long as I show up to meetings on time, no one hassles me if I'm running late. No one gets bent out of shape if I am at lunch longer than the allotted time. I can leave a little early to take a dog to the vet. I can even work from home occasionally. I appreciate those small perks so very much!

But what I am lacking in my job is excitement. Oh, there's the occasional wigging out on the part of somebody important that causes my job to be exciting; searching, sorting, scrambling to get some data into a presentable format to head off disaster. But I do my job well enough that those situations are rare.

So recently my life got very exciting outside of work when my husband started his own counseling business full time. My last blog was all about the stuff we did to get his name out to the community and online. So I started thinking about how much I enjoyed helping him get started. And then I started thinking how much I would enjoy doing something like that for someone else for a little bit of money. I want to get paid, don't get me wrong. But mostly, I want to get paid to do something that really interests me.

So, in doing some research on how all this might work, I found a lot of information that leads me to believe that web designers really dislike people with ideas like mine. But I also think there are a lot of small businesses that just don't have anything on the web because they don't know how to do it themselves and it's a lot like getting your car worked on when the only thing you really know about cars is how to drive - you just don't know if you're getting ripped off or not. If my idea works, I think it could get businesses to hire a web designer, when they otherwise would have never considered it.

Rather than repeat my idea, I'll just link you to a really wise, self proclaimed "geek" off whom I bounced my idea. I found Owen on Twitter. Owen has so many useful tips and gives such excellent explanations that he's worth checking out even if you aren't interested in any more of my long winded words! He is a wealth of practical, user friendly information.

Thanks for your great insights, Owen!

How We Started a Small Business - sort of

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Sat, 05 Jul 2008 15:34:00 +0000

In April, my husband left the world of public service and went into private practice. He is an independently licensed clinical counselor. Since then, I've spent a great deal of time trusting in the Universe, learning how to run a business, how to network, how to advertise with almost no money, and how to keep the faith when my bank account is very low. Currently, there is enough money. It's the timing that gets tricky.

I moved into the position of project manager, public relations specialist, accountant, web master, researcher, and secretary. I really enjoy all of my roles!

Here's what we've gotten ourselves into over the last three months:

Named the practice
Created the Website
Advertised with Google Adwords
Office
Furnished Office
Business Cards, Brochures & Flyers
Began Search for Printing Services
Speaking Opportunities
Joined Chamber of Commerce
Blogging/LinkedIn/Twitter

A couple years ago, I was blogging on a fairly regular basis on Xanga. I tried to get hubby into it but writing is not really his thing. He's much stronger at in person presentations and is a very dynamic speaker. He did do a couple of blogs though, under the name "Cincinnati Therapy Guy". I'd forgotten about that. So when we were trying to think of a catchy name for his practice, he mentioned it and thus he became the "Cincinnati Therapy Guy". I think its easy to remember, descriptive, and shows his sense of humor and humility.

So, getting the word out was my highest priority. Part of getting the word out included getting a website up and running. Since we were advertising solely online, this was crucial. People want to get an idea about who you are before they come to share their deepest, darkest secrets with you. I have set up websites before, purely for sharing my dog pictures with my relatives out of state. I had no clue about sitemaps, search engine optimization, or link bait. I'm sure a professional could do much more with the site. For now, I think it gives visitors the information they need and is simple to navigate. I used Nvu to create the site and FileZilla to publish to our webhost.

(Snag) I changed webhosts somewhere in the middle of all of that. In hindsight, I'd have made the switch in a more planful manner. As it was, I didn't have the pages ready when the new host kicked in. I've always used templates or FrontPage to create sites. While the new host has templates, the available software is very different than I'm used to. It took me a couple of days to find software I could figure out. I didn't realize it would be so complicated (and maybe it isn't but it was beyond my ability to figure out)!

Word of mouth is the best form of advertising. We have some of that, since he's been seeing clients part time for a few years. We need more new clients though! So I looked for other ways to let people know he was now available full time.

We wanted to be listed in the phone book but that was expensive and complicated. His main base of operations is our home and you cannot use a home phone number to list a business in the Yellow Pages. Not even online. So, while I think it's a disadvantage, I think it's one we couldn't afford to do anything about. Another phone line is not in the immediate budget and we already had business cards.

Google Adwords is a really simple way to advertise on a budget. You choose some keywords that describe the products or services you're selling, create some (hopefully) eye catching ads, set a budget, and begin getting new traffic to your website. This is supposed to make the phone ring. It has been ringing but I'd like a lot more ringing!!

Google has done a good job of walking you through this process, with blogs, forums, and videos. They explain how to run a good campaign, how to create a sitemap, and search engine optimization. Currently, I'm trying to decide whether it's better to use search targeted ads or placement targeted ads.

(Snag) Hubby does most of his work out of our home. We live in a crappy neighborhood though and I was concerned that people were finding the address and then calling someone else. So my feeling was that he needed an office in a better location. We found a couple that we could reasonably afford and some that we could afford and really liked. Many were far too big. The one we liked best wasn't particularly sound proof though, and sometimes people in therapy yell or sob. So we had to find something else.

He stumbled upon his current office in his travels. It is in a convenient location, the perfect size, has ample free parking, and inexpensive. I'll save the adventure of furnishing the office for another blog. Suffice it to say, it's furnished and getting that way was an adventure. :p Interestingly enough, each of his new clients has preferred to come to our house rather than his office.

Early on, he got business cards from Staples. One should be sure to proofread these before you order and when you pick them up. We returned 1000 cards once because they misspelled "counselor". When we picked up the replacement batch, they misspelled his last name! Sadly, we had both handed out tons of them before noticing.

Current advice from a number of sources indicates that business cards are no longer necessary. Perhaps that's true for a lot of industries but I think they've been helpful. He isn't selling products and his services are very specific. People don't always need his services at the time he meets them. Sometimes it's months later, or they have a friend or family member who wants to see a counselor. For him, business cards are small and discrete, which is perfect for people who want to see a counselor.

So how else do you let people know that you offer counseling services in the Greater Cincinnati area?? Hubby goes around town talking to people. He goes to New Age shops, yoga places, doctors' offices, lawyers' offices, and he spends a lot of time in coffee shops. He loves Starbucks but he is also fond of the Coffee Emporium and Take Ten. He hands out cards and we even made him a flyer. Oh, we also have bumper stickers that advertise his website. Next on our list is brochures.

Brochures are tricky because you can't really create a nice one at home. So we have been searching for a printing service. This has been more difficult than you'd think. There seem to be a lot of printers in our area. One met with him and he was impressed with their prices and presentation. But the sales person didn't show up or call at their next scheduled meeting. Eventually he spoke with her again and set up another appointment. We were running late because we were dropping off furniture at the office so I called her. Before I could explain that we'd be late, she said she'd been meaning to call because she couldn't make the appointment. I told her hubby would call her later to set up something. Instead we've been searching anew. Because if your potential printer doesn't call you to say they can't make a meeting, will they call you back when you need 1000 flyers by next Friday? I don't trust that they will. I mean, isn't this like interviewing for the job? If they will treat you poorly during the honeymoon, do they really need your business?

Dennis has spoken at a Kiwanis meeting, a civic group, and a local social club. He's been to open houses and grand openings and mixers. He joined the Greater Cincinnati Chamber of Commerce and is reaching out to local small business owners about providing an Employee Assistance Program. He's also interested in doing short presentations at brown bag lunches and speaking at events held by non profit organizations. He's volunteered to do counseling for military personnel returning from Iraq and Afghanistan and their families at no charge. He's doing a workshop on meditation later this month.

He's started blogging again and this time, he's going to stick with it. He's also on Twitter (as CintiTxGuy) and LinkedIn, as of this weekend. So we're reaching out, in every direction of which we can think. I'm reading blogs, to learn from the wisdom of others. I send him emails several times a day, with links to blogs that might interest him, blogs about blogging, articles about current news in mental health, to websites that look like I want ours to look, to events he might attend, groups he might speak with, and anything else I can think up!

We still have lots to do, lots to learn. I'm confident it will work out and pay off. Not because of all the time and effort but because Dennis is a warm, caring person; he's a good therapist. He has healthy boundaries and he takes joy in his clients' progress. He loves his work and he's very good at it. And I'm just going to keep shouting it from every mountain top I can find.

I'm out of practice

noreply@blogger.com (rainie) — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 01:28:00 +0000

So, this is just a placeholder for when I think of something interesting to say.