Ode to an Arizona Diner....

The Welcome Diner has been a fixture of the Garfield Historic District for going on 4 or 5 years now. For those of you who have yet to visit the purveyor of tasty hamburgers, you are missing out. Even if you despise hamburgers and anything associated with them you need to come to the diner just to see the tiny restaurant that could.

When I was back home, my non-sexual life partner Nathaniel and I went to grab some burgers. Thinking more critically about the word 'burger' I just don't know if this is the correct term to describe what was such a delicious little meal. The Welcome Diner, since day one, has prided themselves in using only the most quality organic food...right down to the ketchup. Produce is fresh. Coke is bottled. Seating is tight. The tight seating has nothing to do with throngs of people in the joint but rather more influenced by the fact that there are only 8 available seats. The diner is in an old Valentine Trailer. A small counter surrounds the kitchen which is housing the cooks who double as your servers and finally, your cashiers.

The owners have changed over the recent months, but lucky for us, the food remains the same.......

http://www.yelp.com/biz/welcome-diner-phoenix

An Ode to a Patient

When running group therapy one day, a patient initiated a mini sing along to this Bowie tune. Being a fan, I immediately joined in........

Ziggy. Both of them.

One of many things told to us on a regular basis on the journey to becoming a therapist is how we need to "not take things home with us." When I say things, I am not talking about golden trinkets and candy, I mean emotional shit. And when I say emotional shit, I mean client's emotional shit. When I heard this warning I was like, "yeah. ok. memo that. got it. i dont do that." And honestly, I didn't. For the most part I have been working with individuals with Schizophrenia and Schizoaffective Disorder. While there are occasional patient outbursts and arguments, the mood is light. My role is that of social connector. Putting the pieces of the Schizophrenic puzzle together. Relating one patient to another. Facilitating socialization. Even singing David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust album with some patients who were fans. I kind of had my groove on for awhile.

Then today hit. I was placed in a group that differed greatly from the group that I had really come to love. Without getting into detail, I will just say that the things I heard were heartbreaking. Traumatic. Patients pain, emotional and physical, was contagious. I unconsciously put it all in my purse and slipped through security. The second I left the facility, I felt awful. Came home, went to my own therapist and talked about it. Still didn't really go away. Came home and reveled in the fact that I could meticulously assemble boxes for a project and not have to talk to anyone for awhile. And now, as I go to bed, I still have this lingering storm cloud....like Ziggy. And a headache.

An Evening with Anvil

I had heard about the movie, Anvil, the Story of Anvil, about a month ago and had been sort of counting down the days 'til it came to my humble new city of Los Angeles. May I add that the immediate release of movies is definitely one of the greatest perks of being here? So, anyway, back to Anvil. For those who are needing a more sensory experience, here you go:

The movie, as expected, was great. With accurate comparisons to a real life "Spinal Tap", the movie captivated the entire crowd of the Nuart. And even better....the band came to do a follow up Q&A segment after the film was over. Lips, the frontman, is just as charming in real life as the movie suggests. The kind of guy that you would want in your circle of friends. For sure! Anyway, if you get a chance to go see it, I recommend that you do just that.

*On another sidenote, I returned home at oh, say, 12:30 AM. Starving. My posse flaked on my highly anticipated Kogi run. I was at a standstill. I deliberately did not eat movie snacks or dinner due to the expected Short Ribs Burrito. I walked in my house, put the keys on the table, thought for a second, picked them back up and drove over to the Brig...the current Friday night location for one of Kogi's two trucks. Bought a burrito. Took it home and ate it. Then dear reader, my evening was complete.

Oh those Crazy Art Therapists......

Wow. So as if writing a literature review weren't torture enough...here I am, 11:20 PM in the blogosphere. With the completion of my paper I just couldn't help but think, "What are my ladies doing?" Our program is lacking in men, but, well, I kind of got used to it. We all had dinner the other evening at one of my favorite professors house. We got a group shot of us sans Heather. And I am seriously so tired that I cant really think of too much to write other than I think the girls in my group are pretty amazing and I felt that I should post this picture.

in case the dance steps weren't clear.....

i know most of you have been dying to do the complex dance that busta pulls off in his "arab money" video. here is a step by step tutorial to ensure that you are doing it correctly. please note to keep your body in the rhythm.

because i want to

i really dont have much to say about this clip except that i want to watch to archive it on my blog. i just recently learned about busta's new song, "arab money" and the subsequent multiple remixes. the remixes were remixed to lessen the offensiveness of the song, but well, i dont know if they were that successful in doing so. what i do know is that this gentleman LOVES the first mix....as is. no remixing necessary. more power to him.