Posts Tagged ‘excitement’

Waiting For

August 6, 2018

The offer letter.

It was supposed to come today.

I didn’t get it.

But that doesn’t mean I didn’t get the position!

“I’m offering the position to you, it’s yours,” she said emphatically 3/4s of the way through the interview.

I was so thrilled.

Yesterday morning I got up super early and headed over to Alameda to interview for the Grateful Heart Therapy private practice internship.

And I was hired.

The director let me know that she would be writing up the offer and sending it to me to officially accept today.

But.

Well, she had some things come up and I will get the letter tomorrow.

I was going to hold off on writing about it until I had the official letter in my hot little hands, but I have been very excited about it.

I really am, eventually, going to get paid for the work I do as a psychotherapist!

This is very exciting.

There will be some big transitions, but I feel like they are going to all work out well.

I was also extremely pleased to find out that the group supervision which is required for the first six months of the internship, the supervision that only happens on Thursdays, might also actually work for me.

There are a number of groups that meet on Thursdays and the incoming fall cohort would typically all be together, forming a sort of support team for each other as we all learn the ropes about how to craft and create and sustain our own private practices.

However.

I was told, the director knew that I have a full-time nanny position, that there might be some flexibility there for me.

I was happily surprised.

I was getting ready to tell my employer I wasn’t going to be able to work on Thursdays anymore and I was already trying to figure out how I would manage with the loss of one day of work a week until I am established with enough clients to pay my bills.

Which may take a few months.

But.

No.

The director told me that she knew of my dilemma and that though it was typical to start a new hire with other new hires, there was an opening in the earliest group of the day, Thursdays at 8:30a.m.

Granted.

Sigh.

This means getting up really early on Thursdays so that I can drive over to Alameda for group supervision until 10:30a.m and then driving back over the bridge to Glen Park for my nanny job, but fuck, it means I won’t lose out on income while I am making the transition.

I was super surprised that she made that offer.

Then I realized.

They really wanted me.

The director had already come up with a way to facilitate for my needs!

This was just moments before the position was offered to me, I felt this warm shift in the room and then, boom, she told me they wanted me and that she thought I was the perfect fit for the organization.

I could also tell that she was moved by my honesty and vulnerability in my interview.

Interviewing for a therapist position would be the place to be vulnerable, you might guess, and it paid off handsomely.

I am very pleased.

So today I reached out to my former professor and updated her on my situation, I will be renting office space from her and eventually she will be my solo supervisor.

For the first six months of the internship I will be with the group and I can continue to do so if I want, and/or implement supervision with my professor.

What Grateful Heart does is provide all the administrative support, overhead, insurance, and tax infrastructure that an AMFT (Associate Marriage Family Therapist) needs to be able to practice and get paid.

Effectively helping me to establish my own private practice.

So that by the time I have licensure I will already have a private practice up and running.

They will deal with my lease, they will pay my rent, they will pay my supervisor.

I will pay them $350 a month for the administrative work and to pay out my supervisor.

The money my clients pay will be directed to them, they take out fees, rent, supervision costs and then they will cut me a check out of what is left and it will be direct deposited  to my bank.

I will learn about how to get referrals, how to network, how to build up my own website.

Holy shit.

My own website.

I have been doing this blog for a long time, but I have never had my own website.

I have been thinking that I want to write a blog for my website, something therapeutically oriented, a sort of gift to clients or would be clients, a tool that can be used for their own self-care and as a way to promote my business.

I have to think about what I will call my practice.

I am nervous, but in a good way.

This is very exciting stuff.

I will leave my current internship at the Liberation Institute, where I was told rather sweetly by members in my group yesterday how much I will be missed, sometime in October.

Some of my clients will go with me.

Not all of them, however, I will be charging $80-$100 a session.

When I get licensed I will be charging $150-$200 a session.

And some of my current clients won’t be able to afford that, Liberation Institute is community mental health with an extraordinary sliding scale where no one is turned away for lack of funds.

But a few of my clients will be able to afford it and I suspect that a few may decide to stay with me as well, despite the raise in rates.

I am hopeful that I will get referrals from people I know in community as well as from my professor.

Even my own therapist said she would refer clients to me.

So it feels good.

Hopeful.

New.

Exciting.

I will share the letter with you tomorrow.

And whatever else happens as I move forward into this next phase of my developement.

Oh!

Before I forget.

I bought my books for my PhD program today too!

Things are really happening.

REALLY!

Advertisements

Not Excited Yet

July 13, 2018

But I’m hopeful I will get there.

I realized tonight when I wrapped up with my last client that I only have one client left to see before I go to Paris.

Paris seems far away and a touch surreal at the moment.

I have been so busy walking through this housing situation that I have spent little to no time thinking about Paris.

Cue standing in the dental aisle at Walgreens this afternoon when I went in to fill a prescription.

Why am I standing in front of the toothpaste?

I have toothpaste at home.

I don’t need toothpaste.

But I kept coming back.

Until I remembered.

Oh snap!

I need travel size toothpaste!

I’m traveling soon.

I leave in three days!

It just has not really landed at all.

I am, of course, very much looking forward to seeing my dear friend.

I miss her so much and it was hard to finish my last semester of school without her.

Friends are so damn important.

It will be good to reconnect, to have lots of time with her, and of course, to have the best and most brilliant of insider guides to the city that I love only second to San Francisco.

I am always so happy that I get to live here.

Yesterday I went and visited a friend who used to live in the city but has done what so many of my friends have done, moved out of the city across the Bay.

She lives high up in the Berkeley Hills and it was a beautiful home and a lovely, stunning really, view of the city, the bay, the fog pushing over Twin Peaks, but I could not imagine living there.

I love San Francisco.

Sure.

It’s changed, but everything changes.

And it’s still, to me, one of the most beautiful places in the world, especially to live.

I also ran an errand and took back a bicycle rack that a friend had loaned me last year for Burning Man.

That took me to Alameda.

Where I did see a few cute houses, but it felt so suburban and removed and I also could not see myself there.

Or in Oakland.

Or in Berkeley.

I see myself in San Francisco.

My focus on finding a place is focused on the city proper.

And let me tell you.

I have been looking.

I have seen a few things, but not much.

I have responded to a few things, but gotten no response.

I do feel like when the dust is settled here and all the paperwork signed and taken care of that I will be throwing all my might behind finding a new place.

I will also officially throw it up on social media and I’m quite hopeful that I will find a good place.

I have been quietly telling a few friends and starting to put the word out.

The fact is though, at this point, it’s so close to me leaving for Paris that I really should skip even looking, I don’t know that I could do anything or get anything together before I leave.

I think it’s time I get excited!

I think it’s time to contemplate what I am going to be doing, walking around in the best city to walk, seeing art, street art and art, art.

Getting to spend time shopping in the Marais at all the little paper shops for notebooks to smuggle home with me.

Gah.

I bought a book today to read on the plane and I couldn’t help myself, I bought a new notebook too.

It was too cool to pass up and I knew I must have it.

There was a little voice in my head saying don’t accrue any more stuff!  I need to get ready to move and the less to pack, the better.

But.

Well.

I couldn’t help it, I bought the notebook.

And I did some writing siting in a cafe waiting for my friend and her new baby to come and join me.

I don’t often sit in cafes in San Francisco and write anymore.

I do the majority of my writing here where I am sitting right now, at a tiny table in my tiny kitchen, heaped high with notebooks and folders and books.

God.

I love paper.

I love writing.

I wrote a love letter in the new notebook.

I think that’s why I decided I had to buy it.

It is perfect for writing love letters.

And it was.

After my friend left I had some down time to sit for a while before I headed into my internship.

To sit outside, in the warm late afternoon sun, with a bottle of sparkling water, at a park in the Mission on Valencia Street that I used to bring former charges too and write a love letter while looking up at the bright blue sky, well, it was something else.

So no regrets about buying the notebook.

It will be used.

I will also buy more when I am in Paris.

Along with my standard pair of earrings, lipstick/lip gloss or eyeshadow, postcards, museum magnets and whatever else small momento I feel I should need.

I am so looking forward to seeing Paris through my friends eyes that I will have to buy something outside of my normal repertoire of souvenirs.

I thought about perhaps buying a market basket, I do love how they look.

And.

Yes.

I have contemplated a new tattoo.

I have one in mind, I will see if it stands the test of time when I arrive.

There’s a shop in the Marais that I get my work done at and I’ll see if they have an opening when my friend is off to a wedding out-of-town one of the weekends I am there, get myself a souvenir that I can wear always.

I like that quite a bit.

Of course.

I will take lots and lots and lots of photos too.

I promise.

Psst.

Here are a few from my recent trip to New York.

IMG_E3788

Back yard patio at a lovely little restaurant in Williamsburg, The Rabbit Hole, where I had the most amazing soup and salad–broccoli cheese consume and the salad was like a deconstructed BLT with avocado and fried leeks.

So good.

IMG_E3777

Bunny rabbit lamps!

From Le Grand Strip, on Grand Ave in Williamsburg.

I swear to God I almost bought them, but not knowing where I am going to live stopped me.  Once I’m settled I may actually buy them, the owner said she could ship them for me.

Bunny lamps!

IMG_E3749

A triptych of feminist Latina women at the Brooklyn Museum.

Why, yes.

That is me in the middle.

IMG_3694

Mural in Fort Greene Brooklyn.

More to come.

Paris soon.

T-minus three days and counting.

But who’s counting?

 

It’s Time To Check In!

May 28, 2015

The e-mail cheerily declared when I opened it this afternoon at work while on my lunch break.

Already?

Wait, a minute.

I’m not ready.

But I am.

I am ready.

I am ready to see my family and declare myself a part of.

It is scary, what are they going to think of my hot pink hair and glitter?

And it is exhilarating.

Maybe I will get a straight answer as to how my last name is with an “s” rather than a “z.”

I know the story of it, but I realized, my parents are unreliable narrators.

So too, am I.

I was reflecting on what I write here and what I say, and don’t say, and how this is my voice, but it is also a “voice” I am actually, if you can believe it, quite shy and retiring.

“I knew it was you as soon as I saw you and you hid in your hair, just like I do when I am nervous,” said my cousin, oldest daughter of my favorite uncle when I first met her.

I met her about eleven and a half, perhaps 12 years ago.

I have met a couple of my cousins on my father’s side, and I know my favorite Uncle, who was ridiculous and cute on the phone with me earlier today when I called to check in regarding my flight itinerary.

“You know what we’re doing Friday morning?” He asked me.

“Ah, nope,” I smiled, but I could hear adventure in his voice.

“We’re going to watch that movie, you know the one,” my uncle said with no question in his voice what he was talking about at all.

Mad Max.

“We’re going to see Mad Max!” I almost jumped up and down like a little kid, “yay!  I haven’t seen it yet.”

“It’s totally Burning Man from what I hear,” I said.

“Completely!” My uncle agreed, “I was going to go to that theater that all the Gate and Perimeter people rented in Oakland to see the movie, but well, it was in Oakland.”

My uncle goes to Burning Man.

And right there.

I assuage my feelings.

My little girl, I’m not enough feelings.

My uncle will be there and we will talk about Burning Man and I am ok and this is family.

And we will know how to handle situations that used to baffle us.

I realized, I will know how to handle myself when I show up.

It’s not that I am some sort of heathen, I have manners, I know how to be a good guest, and I am really interested in finding out more about my family history.

I want to know all about Hawaii and my ancestry there, which I know little to nothing about.

Odd fragments that my mom told me, a memory of a book of poems and essays that my father once sent me that had a picture of the first truck on the islands, supposedly my great, great, grandfather’s vehicle?

I don’t know.

But I want to know.

I am also grateful that I am getting to go but not make a big fuss over it.

I am not trying to pack being a tourist into it.

Oh, there’s some touristy things happening, my cousin is going to take me to the Balboa Park area and we’re going to go wander around the museums.

I am just a whore for museums.

Art really.

And museum gift shops.

I told the boys today that I would miss them, and I will, despite today being a trying day with them, I swear someone slipped them sugar when I wasn’t looking.

They were off the wall with energy.

I also told them I would send them a postcard.

And I will.

I will also send myself a postcard, a small, happy reminder that usually ends up getting back to me a week or so after I have returned from a trip.

I have postcards from Paris, London, San Francisco, Venice Beach, Rome, New York, Black Rock City, Anchorage, and they are scattered all over my fridge along with magnets from the various museums I have visited while in the city.

It’s a really sweet way to remind myself of the journey.

“Are you all packed?” My ride to the airport tomorrow checked in with me as we were walking up the hill toward the Sunset Youth Services this evening.

“Close,” I said, stretching the truth mightily.

However.

I pack fast and I am getting up at my regular time tomorrow morning so that I can write and get right with God before going on my little sojourn.

I’m gone for three and a half days, I won’t need much.

I pulled my suitcase out of the closet before I left and threw some laundry in the wash so that I will have all the clothing options I want.

I marveled, I still am, actually.

At the size of my roll on suitcase.

It is the same one I took with me to Paris and lived out of for six months.

Six months.

Out of that one small bag.

And what I could fit in my messenger bag.

I am not going to bring that however, just my purse and my laptop and a notebook.

And sandals.

Fingers crossed the weather will be sunnier than it’s been here.

I was looking at my phone’s weather app earlier and wondered what in the world the forecast icon was, it looked like rain, but it was not rain.

It was an icon for fog.

I realized as I was rolling home though the Pan Handle, the forecast was for fog.

I was drenched when I got home.

It might as well have been rain.

And the forecast is looking like that for the next few days.

It’s not super warm in San Diego, but it sure looks sunnier and I will happily take low 70s versus mid to high 50s for temperatures.

I may even pack a pair of sandals.

I’ll be ready.

The dryer is almost done.

The blog is almost writ.

The feelings are still there, a pinch of anxiety, a bit of excited nervousness.

And a lot of joy.

I get to go do this.

I get to amend my ways and show up and be the grand-daughter my grandmother deserves to have in her life.

I get to be a grand-daughter, a niece, a cousin, a part of.

I get to go be with family.

I’m pretty sure they will accept me.

Pink hair and all.


%d bloggers like this: