"My life as a dancologist," not "My life as a psychologancer"...

I get so confused when people start by asking me about how school is going, and then, "Oh, yeah, by the way, are you still dancing?"

"Umm, yes???" Sometimes I want to respond with, "Do you know me at all!?!?!"Instead, I quietly think to myself, "SERENITY NOW!" and I reply, "Yes! A lot, actually!"

If you get it, you get it. But for those that don't, how do I begin to explain? To most of the people in my life, my (almost) PhD sounds so much more impressive than the fact that I am a dancer. The truth is, dancers work so hard for something that is not tangible. We don't walk away with a fancy degree. We don't walk away with tons of money. We don't walk away with a big promotion. We walk away with something that is impossible to explain to anyone who doesn't already get it. We will spend an entire year working on a product that comes and goes in about 2 hours on a stage. If you missed the performance, you missed it, and it is gone. You can hang a Ph.D. on your wall for a lifetime.

It took me 10 weeks to write my prelims...

It took me 20 years to get my legs to look like that...

Dancing has been infinitely more challenging than getting my Ph.D. Don't get me wrong, I love both aspects of my life, and they are both important to me, but working toward being a dancer makes working toward my doctorate seem so much easier. This is not to say that graduate school isn't challenging, or that being a dancer is harder than being a psychologist, but for me, my dancing puts my work toward my doctorate in perspective. Maybe I am on to something here. If you ever want to accomplish something challenging, just take on something that is even more challenging for you to put it in perspective. Maybe for you, psychology would be more challenging than dancing, or parenting would be more challenging than getting ahead at work, and the possibilities go on and on. Don't get me wrong, I will still be hanging my PhD on my wall, but they don't make a piece of paper for every type of accomplishment in life.

Just in case you are currently worrying about all those times you've asked me, "Are you still dancing?" after you've asked me how school is going...don't. I appreciate your support, whether you get it or not. On the other hand, if you don't get my Seinfeld references, then I'm sorry, but we can't be friends...

Life is like an onion...

I have always ordered my food with no onions just because I felt like that was what you were supposed to do. Whenever I would order a sandwich, I would promptly remove the onions between the lettuce and tomato and put them to the side of my plate. Today, a little piece of onion accidentally made its way into my salad and ... it was amazing! I can't believe I almost missed out on this opportunity. I am so excited about living the rest of my life with onions! Sorry, Patrick...

This was me eating a sandwich pre-onion discovery. I look pretty happy, right? Just imagine how happy I would look if I had already discovered them!

Ellen eating a sandwich with no onions. Blissfully unaware of how good life could REALLY be...

Just in case you were wondering...this post really is about onions. It would appear that there would have to be some sort of deeper meaning behind this, but I really just had an exciting experience with onions today, so I wanted to share.

Don't think about a pink elephant wearing running shoes...

On the way to work today I saw a sign that read, "Please do not text and drive." I thought to myself, "Oh! That reminds me! I need to text Erin about our plans this weekend!"

That is probably not the reaction they were going for... This is kind of like saying, "Please do not eat pizza for dinner tonight." Well, I wasn't planning on it, but now I can't stop thinking about pizza!

Don't worry. I waited until I got to a stoplight the parking garage to text my friend Erin. I just hope other people don't have the same initial reaction I did.

I would like to formally suggest that they change the sign to read, "Please text while walking from the parking lot to your building."

Did you think about the pink elephant wearing running shoes? Exactly.

*"Pink elephant wearing running shoes" courtesy of Dr. Jason Selk

No sense in worrying about it...

"There is nothing you can do about it, so there is no sense in worrying about it."

Not only am I still going to worry about it, but that is exactly WHY I am worried about it. If there were something I could do about "it," I would just do it, and then not have to worry about "it" in the first place. I've never understood why people think that line will make me feel better.

Like mother, like daughter...

I have been a worrier as long as I can remember. It doesn't take much to set off that all-too-familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach. Right now, for example, I have a very suspicious looking hangnail (just kidding-but I actually wouldn't put that too far past me). Unfortunately, Louise has adopted my worrying. Her first anxiety attack consisted of her uncontrollably licking the floor so much that she threw up. Mine manifests itself slightly differently. When Louise has one of her "moments," Patrick likes to pet her and say, "Louise, you have anxiety. Anxiety does not have you." It seems to help her a bit. It reminds her that she is in control.


Here is something that I learned from my friend, Dr. Jason Selk. Answer the following question:

What is ONE thing I can do that COULD make this better? 

Yes, it is that simple. The moment you stop thinking about the problem and start focusing on a possible solution, you've stopped yourself from spiraling lower and lower and lower. That first solution may not work, but at least you've given yourself something to focus on other than the problem. If that solution doesn't work, ask yourself the question again and again and again. Keep doing this until it is better.

If that doesn't work, just start licking the floor...

Just kidding, it WILL work.  

P.S. Dr. Selk has a very helpful blog here.

Cognitive Dissonance...

I am feeling a little blah these days, and I can only be funny when I am happy. Check back later...

Well....let me give it a shot...

I've been thinking recently about how certain behaviors have a funny way of creeping in and becoming a part of a person's idea of self. This works in obvious ways, such as if a person frequently performs well in math class, he might go on to consider himself a "math person." If a person often gets compliments her clothes, she might think of herself fashionable. I was noticing recently that certain aspects of "Ellen" have started to creep in without my awareness.

For example, I have gotten many shocked reactions from people when I show them my mountainous heaps of clean, unfolded laundry in my laundry room. I feel I am starting to subconsciously think to myself, "I shouldn't fold that load of laundry. Ellen doesn't fold laundry. That would be so hypocritical of me!"

Step 1/Step 6

Patrick finally broke down and brought all the clean laundry upstairs so that we can have a constant reminder of how much laundry we need to fold. This is a Step 1 of getting it folded. Step 2 will be to start thinking about folding it. Step 3 will be to actually think about folding it. Step 4 will be to get a phone call saying that someone is planning on dropping by our house. Step 5 will be to panic-stricken-ly (yes, I just made up that word) carry it all back to the laundry room so that it is out of sight for our visitors. Step 6, see Step 1.

Step 5 is crucial because it is very important for my actions (or lack thereof) to coincide with my ideas of self. Otherwise, I would be all out of whack. And I didn't just make that up. That is a real psychological phenomenon...

...Well, maybe I can be kind of funny...

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Improvising...not just an important skill for dancers...

We have a blizzard coming, and I am suddenly aware of how unprepared I am to be an adult. What do I do??? My thoughts immediately went back to 3rd grade, and I wish I had paid better attention. Do I get under my desk?? No, that's for an earthquake... Do I run to the cafeteria and crouch against the wall with my arms over my head?? No, that's for a tornado... Are you supposed to do anything for a blizzard? I've never done anything before, but is that because my parents just secretly did it for me? They should write these things down in a manual. It was always my parents' job to take care of me, so how am I supposed to take over the job without a manual? I've never actually had a real-person job, but isn't reading the manual the first thing you do when you start? 

Yesterday, Patrick very intently said to me, "Ellen! We need to seriously prepare ourselves for a power outage..." I stood listening and waiting for him to give me directions on how to do this, while he stood waiting for me to give him directions on how to do this. Neither of us knew, so naturally we just decided to deal with it later, grabbed our beer and wine out of the fridge, and settled down to watch a movie. Well...it's later and the blizzard is officially on it's way. At somewhat of a loss for what to do next, I cooked a box of pasta and a frozen pizza and stored them in the refrigerator. That should get us by for a while... Oh! I just realized that I cooked!!! That is a step in the right direction of becoming an adult! Maybe I don't need a manual... Although, if you don't hear from me in the next few days, send help.