Well. You will all be happy to know that there is a new feature here at Ampersand. Formerly, you scored a mention on your birthday or your anniversary. Whatever. Don’t look at me because you have this weird need for attention. But now, if you come to visit, you will not only get a mention, you will get a special entry that you can write your ownself, wherein you will have a (small, unimportant) platform upon which to air your views and plans for world domination.
Um, not that our very first special guest needs a(nother) platform. Our Friend Patri has ample resources at his command to make his vision a reality. I am just happy to have him here, and we’re all having dinner right now, and there’s two tables at this dinner, one comprised of horn players and one comprised of geeks, and I respectfully requested that we discuss a subject in which I could participate, and we started talking about the practice of having one’s laptop at the dinner table, and then about online journals, and suddenly it all fell together. Patri’s house, the ever effervescent Alpine Butterfly Lodge, just started their own house journal, and I’m going to link to it as soon as Patri finds it. In the meantime, here’s Patri himself. Take it away, Patri!
—-BEGIN PATRI—-
Hey folks. I’m here in Seattle following my vision of bringing the soap opera of my life to new cities, new frontiers, new groups of friends. I’ve never been to Portland or Seattle, so its been an exciting trip. Dunno if I’d quite call the ABL “effervescent”, but I won’t deign to disagree with my hostesses adjectives. We do have a livejournal, and if only I can get my housemates to tell me the account info, I’ll have my very own pulpit. This reminds me of the time they rekeyed the locks and didn’t tell me…argh!
If you want to learn about my plans for world domination, just search the net for Patri and cruise from there. I don’t try to keep them secret.
—-END PATRI—-
Yes, there he is! Patri is an excellent person to know, if you don’t already. I’ve had a lovely afternoon hanging out and talking with him.
Let’s see…well, not too much else going on here. I had another interview today, can you believe it? For a application I sent out on Tuesday. It’s at another branch of the Large Mental Health Agency to which I applied a couple of months ago. Remember, the one where the interviewer laughed out loud when she replied “It’s supportive” to my inquiry about the agency culture? Yeah. I pretty much ran away screaming from that one. Anyway, this branch of LMHA was super nice. The interviewer was very friendly, and it’s a smaller office, and the therapists have their own offices, instead of being housed in a sort of Therapist Barn, let out only to rush around trying to find a room in which to see their poor beleagured clients. I guess they are probably allowed out to file their paperwork as well. Anyway, I think it went pretty well. The pay is abysmal, though. I mean, really laughable. I mean, it’s a good thing I’m so dedicated to my work, right, because clearly none of these agencies want to reward anyone who works for them with money. I think this is why so many social workers are married to rich people…because, you know, an interest or a calling in helping other people manifesting professionally needs to be subsidized as though it were a hobby, right? Sigh. Is this a good time for my diatribe on the subject of the State of the Profession? No? You say it’s a Friday night in May and I have just ingested some smashingly wonderful spinach lasagna and strawberry shortcake (thanks, Deane!) and a friend is here visiting, and it’s May? Well, fine. I’ll spare you for now. I will also spare you a rant about The State of Mental Health, which is Article MXCLLIII (Section 34.18) of The Chiara Statement of Things That Make Me Burning Mad.
Well, anyway, I hope that you’re having a fun Friday night, or that you did by the time you read this, because clearly you are not so dorky to be online on a lovely Friday night, right? Well, if you are, I hope you are surrounded by good friends and good food the way I am tonight.
Oh. Wait. Wait! Remember my piecrust from the other day? Yeah, it tanked. I mean, the piecrust itself was okay, I guess, but the tart crashed and burned. Almost literally. The crust shrank like thirty percent while I was pre-cooking, and so when I poured in the custard it overflowed, and then my tiny Betty Crocker-sized oven turns out to be slanted, which is kind of a big deal with a too-small piecrust overflowing with grapefruit custard. So yeah. Okay, did we cover everything? Patri’s here, I had another interview, piecrust, mental health work pays sucky…yeah, I think that’s it. Yall have a good weekend now.