Stunslinger.com Blog

Mrs. Stunslinger and I went to visit her family this weekend, and we had a really great time.  We got home tonight at 8:30 or so.  Since that time I’ve killed three very large spiders in our living room.  Each of these guys, including legs, was about two inches across.  Did I mention I really hate spiders?

Yuck.  Now I’m hyper-vigilant, sitting in my living room with  a shoe.  I’d better not see any more spiders.  Of course I also need to relax a bit so I can go to bed and whatnot.  Argh.

Good night.

I had a massage today and I think the masseuse thinks I’m interpersonally challenged.  For my birthday a while ago my wife bought me a massage, and it was scheduled for today after work.  So I showed up at the massage place and thus commenced the awkwardness.

First lesson: If a masseuse offers you water, you must not refuse.  While I was filling out the paperwork saying that I don’t have leprosy and won’t sue them if I die on the table (or something like that), the masseuse offered me a dixie cup with 3oz of water.  I said, “No thanks, I drank a lot on the way over.”  This was true, but the masseuse didn’t believe me.  So I got a lecture on the healing/relaxing power of drinking enough water.  She also drank a dixie cup of water to show me how it’s done.  Next time, just take the water.

Second lesson: Just say you don’t have any questions.  After the tense water situation, I think she got the idea that I was going to be a difficult end to her day.  She then pointed out the massage room, and followed me in.  Now, I know the general process — usually they leave you alone for a few minutes to disrobe.  But she followed me in, pointed to the table and said that I would get under the sheet.  Then commenced the awkwardness for a moment, and then she asked if I had any questions.  Instead of smoothly saying, “Nope, no questions.”  My brain spit out, “I can’t really think of anything at this point, but I don’t know.”  What sort of questions should I have at this point!?  “Does massage feel good?  Do you have strong hands?”  I was at a loss.  She looked at me strangely, and then said to disrobe to my level of comfort and left the room.

Lesson three:  Take off your socks.  As I was “disrobing” I realized that I wasn’t sure if I should take off my socks.  Looking back, of course I should, but in the moment I froze.  I decided the socks might contain some of the odor my feet cooked up in my dress shoes all day, so I left them on and climbed under the sheet.  I put my head in the hole and she came back in and started the massage.  At this point I had to make the decision whether I should be completely quiet or not.  When I’m at home, I let my wife know where it feels good so she can focus her attention.  But I remember the Friends episode where Monica made sex noises during massage and it was not kosher (that’s right, I watch Friends, deal with it).  So I opted to be silent.  It’s my time, I can not talk if I want.  Anyway, eventually she moved down to massaging my legs.  As she worked down the first leg I detected a pause when she hit the top of my sock.  At that point I completely rethought my decision to keep the socks on.  She moved on, acting like nothing was unusual, but I could tell I made a mistake.  Then she asked, “Do you mind if I roll down your sock?”  No, I did not mind.  At this point I knew she thought I had some weird foot issue in addition to being interpersonally retarded.  And I laid there in my embarrassment, oddly dressed in my underwear and black socks.  So, learn from my mistake and take off your socks.

Lesson four: Seriously, don’t make it look like you have foot issues.  So she finished my backside and held the sheet up so I could turn over.  Apparently I am extraordinarily talented in the flipping over department, because after I did she said, “Wow, that was quick.”  Um, ok…thanks?  Is that good?  I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that info.  Anyway, she continued the massage.  After massaging my arms and hands and legs, she asked, “Do you want me to massage your feet?”  Well, not particularly.  While I am not opposed to foot massage, it’s not particularly useful for relaxing me.  But if I say no, does that make me weird?  Again my odd brain came to my rescue: “Well, I don’t really carry any stress in my feet, so it wouldn’t really be that helpful, but go ahead if you normally do it.”  What!?  I’m a rather educated individual with a healthy blogging habit, and that’s the best I can do?  What about, “I don’t mind, but could you spend more time on my neck/shoulders as that’s where I carry stress” or even “go ahead”?  She then volunteered to spend the last few minutes on my neck and I obliged.  So now I have a serious foot issue.

When she was done, she left me to get dressed and I was able to take stock of my idiocy during the previous hour.  When I came out she offered me another dixie cup of water, and I (having learned from my own lesson) drank it.  I then escaped into the world where I won’t be known as the water-phobic, black-sock-wearing, interpersonally retarded guy with the foot issue.

I do feel more relaxed, and hopefully I’ll get a good night’s sleep.  It was worth it!

For some reason, I seem to have this pattern in my life: whenever I know something (school, a job, etc) is about to end, I start to feel burnout.  It doesn’t seem to matter how long I’ve been doing whatever, it just starts to drag whenever the end is in sight.

I was in graduate school for years, and it was good.  In fact, I actually had a great experience.  But then I was matched for my internship, and for the last few months, it just seemed like I was going through the motions.  Somehow, it was as if knowing things were coming to an end sponsored my feelings of burnout.

This same thing happened at all of my previous jobs as well.  Things would go along great, until it was time to go back to college, or until I was about to start a different job.  I used to chalk this up to my jobs being rather intellectually dull.  Arrogant as it may sound, I figured I needed a job where I did more than pump gas or slop food.  I used to think I had a time limit of sorts, but now I wonder if it just had to do with the fact that I knew things were ending.

The reason this popped into mind is, while I love my internship, I’m feeling a bit burned out.  It’s odd, the whole year I’ve been doing 2 month rotations and I’ve never felt burned out before.  But now I do, a bit.  Still love the people I work with and my patients, but I just don’t have the same motivation.  I can’t wait to have a job where I can work longer, have a more lasting relationship with coworkers and, hopefully, a better impact because people believe in my skills more.

Thanks for letting me share.

Yesterday evening Mrs. Stunslinger wanted to pick up a new shirt, so we headed downtown to American Eagle.  Immediately I realized this was a bad idea.  “People like us” don’t exactly belong in AE.  We (late-twenty something professionals) are supposed to shop at places like Ikea* or Express.

Anyway, as we walked in I saw two 16-year-olds standing in the doorway.  Apparently this is their job, to stand in the doorway, because that’s what they did the entire time we were shopping.  Because I’m a good husband, I stood nearby as my wife looked through the racks.  It seemed like everywhere I looked, I saw “super-excited-oh-my-god” high school girls shopping.  They were shouting and laughing and running around, as if they were 5-years-old  on the playground again.  Ugh it was tiring.  So that made me feel old.

But then I kept seeing parents with little kids everywhere.  Knowing Utah, they probably were my age or younger, but it didn’t feel that way.  Every time I see people with three little kids, it makes me feel young.

So there we were, feeling both old and young at the same time.  This is the curse of living in Utah.

* I should say, we’re actually going to Ikea today.  Perhaps I’ll feel more age-appropriate there. 

As you know by now, we’re going to be moving back to Oregon in a little over a month. We’re already trying to figure out what the best services are that will make our move easier. When we moved out here, we rented a Penske truck and car trailer, and drove it. It took a long time (we had to overnight in Boise) and was boring (my wife was driving our second car behind me).

When our friends moved out here, they used ABF (aka U-Pack Moving). ABF dropped off some containers at their place, and they had up to three days to fill them. ABF then came and picked the containers up, and deposited them at their new place two days later. They drove out in their cars, and then had three days to unpack the containers.

Now, if they were priced the same, I’d go with ABF, hands down. We could pound out the drive in one day if we wanted to, or could take our time. It’d be more comfortable, and I wouldn’t have to negotiate pulling a 22 foot moving truck into gas stations and Subways along the road.  However, there is a roughly $150 difference between the two services, favoring renting a truck.  This isn’t a huge difference, but with that difference we could afford to hire movers to help us unload when we get back to Oregon.  And yes, that cost difference already takes into account gas and a hotel stay.

It’s a tough call, especially when you consider we’re paying double rent for the month of August (we had to secure our place a month early) and then the costs of moving.  Any advice?  Please comment!

I know recently I complained about never being able to write about work, but this post is going to be about work.  Yesterday we had a seminar on hypnosis and one of our supervisors did an induction with us.  For the record, there is no dangling watch or “you are getting sleepy.”  No spiraling black and white shape either!

Anyway, during the induction I didn’t really feel like I was getting it.  Everybody is hypnotically receptive to some degree, but some people get it much easier than others, and are more affected by it.  When he was going over the criteria for susceptibility, I figured I would not be a great candidate.  I have a hard time disconnecting my critical thinking, I don’t have great visualization skills, and I’m not very suggestible.  This wasn’t stage hypnosis, he wasn’t trying to get us to cluck like chickens or anything, so it wasn’t easy to tell who was or was not hypnotized to some degree.  The script he read, or the metaphor, was all about letting our subconscious mind take over and learn what it needed to learn.

So it seemed like it was just a time of relaxation for me (although I was a bit frustrated by my inability to “get it”).  I went through the rest of my day and then had a headache by the time I got home from work.  Coincidence?  Our supervisor did say that headache is a possible side effect of hypnosis.  Hmm…

Then last night I had very vivid dreams about dynamics that played out in high school.  I did not have a good time in high school, I felt very isolated and “weird.”  Now, I feel much better about myself, but when I get around people from my high school (which happens rarely), I still feel like that little kid.  Anyway, I woke up and realized I had been working out some of my emotions from high school in my dream.  Another coincidence?  Could be.  But part of me wonders if I was more hypnotized than I thought, and this was an effect from that.  Strange.

I was reading through the manual on my new cellphone, and saw a reference to sending a text message to a land line.  Of course I had to try it…

You text something, and a computer calls the person and reads it to them.  What possible use could this have?!  Actually, I foresee this becoming the new way to break up with people.  I wonder if it translates the abbreviated words those-kids-today use?

Argh.  I just sat down and wrote out some things I’ve been thinking/feeling about a situation at my work.  Just as I was about to post it, I realized that even though I post anonymously (really, my name’s not actually Stunslinger) and I didn’t share any specifics about the situation, it still wasn’t professional.  And, ironically, I was complaining about these people being un-professional.

Sometimes I lament the fact that I can’t write about my work life.  So many of the personal blogs I read talk about the person’s life, and often contain posts about that person’s work.  They even post pictures of themselves, their family, and other personal details.  This is part of what makes their blogs interesting.  But I cannot do that.

I have to scrape together blog posts about my life outside of work, for the most part.  Sometimes I write something in reaction to a work situation, but I try to make sure it’s something that is generic enough that I’m not revealing any personal information.

Sometimes I think this hurts my readership.  But really, shouldn’t I see that as a challenge to transcend, rather than something to complain about?  Probably.  I need to re-frame this, which is something I teach my patients all the time.   I will work to overcome this challenge and bring the interweb my odd form of blogging.  After I sleep, anyway.  Good night.

This weekend my wife and I finally watched the four hour PBS documentary, The Mormons.  The first two hours were essentially telling the history of the LDS church, tracing its roots from upstate New York all the way to Salt Lake City, UT.  I didn’t realize the persecution they faced, even having a state declare them worthy of being killed on sight.  While interesting, this wasn’t the part of the documentary I was interested.  At the end of the first two-hour section, they said in the second part they would discuss the LDS faith as it is practiced now.  Living in Utah for this year, this is what I wanted to learn about.

Unfortunately, I felt like the second two-hour segment didn’t really address what I was hoping it would.  Yes, they addressed some of the controversies and social issues surrounding the faith.  But they never really talked about the theology, WHAT they believe, rather than how it works out in their lives.

I was interested when one of the Quorum of the 12 (an apostle) actually said it is not right to criticize the church, even if the criticism is true.  Frankly, this was very concerning to me.  I happen to believe that intellectual curiosity is absolutely necessary to have a fully formed faith.   My belief is that it is crucially important to understand what you believe, and how can you do that without asking questions?

But, my main problem is that I still don’t really understand what Mormons believe.  I have an idea, based on pieces of things people interviewed said, that they believe our souls exist in families pre-birth.  I understand they believe in different levels of heaven, that good LDS men become gods, that God lives on a star named Kobol, and that the original inhabitants of North America were Israelites.  But I don’t know this from the documentary.  At best, there were small references to some of these points, but no exploration of them.

For my money, I would gladly have traded an hour of the history and an hour of the social issues for an in-depth explanation of LDS theology.  But, everyone tells me how great and informative the documentary was, so perhaps I am in the minority.  Interesting nonetheless.

I’ve been talking with my colleagues lately about using the term ‘partner’ to describe our spouses.  For me, this all started because of a seminar we had on multicultural sensitivity.  One concept we discussed was using privilege to open the door for those who do not have privilege.  The idea being that those of us who are in the majority (whatever that may be: race, sexual orientation, gender, etc.) have a responsibility to be allies of those in the minority.

Anyway, it was brought to my attention that I am able to use the terms “spouse” and “wife” to reference the person to whom I have committed my life.  I think I take this for granted.  Some of my colleagues and some of my friends, who are in very committed relationships, do not have this opportunity.  So they use “partner” instead.  Unfortunately, this automatically places them in a lower position.

Since I can’t make them able to be married, it feels like one idea is to use the term “partner” myself.  I know it’s not changing the world or anything, but it seems like it’s a step.  One argument against this, is that I’m not actually elevating their status.  And, in fact, one of my friends who regularly refers to her husband as her partner has been taken to task by the very people she’s trying to honor.

But at least it feels like something.  And I should underscore, I’m not trying to get into an argument about whether or not things are “right” or “wrong.”  I’m just getting at the point that people deserve respect, regardless of other individual’s moral judgments.