And then there was one.

I'm ditching the 30 Days Meme. I completed two out of 30 entries, and I've rapidly found that that particular list of prompts just isn't doing anything for me. Scrapped. Gonna try my hand at going back to writing my own free-form narrative, even if I have to write about shit I don't wanna write about. I've been ambivalating enough for the last year-plus. I need to get back to the Breeness of it all.

Two things you probably know if you know me In Real Life, but don't yet know if you only know me via Toothpick Labeling or Limburger, my previous personal blog:

1. I got bit really badly by a dog in September, and now I've got a killer motherfucking scar on my left hand. By the grace of randomness, luck, and privilege, I've got most functionality back, and a family who can help me cover the medical bills.

<--How it looked two days after the bite.
How it looks now.-->

So, there was that.

2. Astrid and I broke up about a month ago. You, the reader, met Astrid nearly seven years ago, when I wrote about our first date. Since then, those tentative and doubtful and sexy beginnings became the longest relationship for either of us, the longest shack up, the deepest intimacy, and ultimately the most slow-motion, excruciating breakup in my life. The last year and a half have been fucking painful. Now that we've broken up, we both feel a lot of relief, release, and freedom to find ourselves in different ways. It's actually been, on the whole, easier between us since we made the decision to end it.

And here's the interesting part: we still live together. Tune in next time for more!

Day 01 - Introduce Yourself

Hi. I'm Bree. Only, I'm not actually Bree; Bree is a pseudonym I've been using since I started blogging about eight years ago. Actually, it's a pseudonym I created around 2000ish when I had a brief and fairly dull foray into cyber chatting in those lonely little virtual chat rooms when people were still on IRC channels or some such shit that I didn't understand then and don't understand now. So I've gone by Bree in some circles for 'bout a decade, plus/minus.

I grew up in San Jose and Los Gatos, California, suburban sprawl about fifty miles south of San Francisco. Most of you reading this blog probably already know that. Maybe I should introduce myself in a more enticing way. Let's see now...well, I'm pushing 40, I'm a big ol' dyke (who makes infrequent exceptions for an occasional boy as long as he's fey, geeky, and submissive enough), I took the Meyers-Briggs personality type test when I was 17 at Jewish youth group camp, and was revealed to be an ENFP, and I think it's still pretty accurate.

What else? I wear two career hats, well, really one job hat and one career hat: my money-earning work is bookkeeping, basically paying other peoples' bills and balancing their checkbooks (something I've pretty much never managed to do for myself) and my career path work, which hasn't quite made me money yet, is as a psychotherapist. I'm an intern working in private practice in Berkeley, and I mainly work with queer and trans folks, and individuals and relationship partners who are in polyamorous relationships or who are identified with alternative sexualities in some form.

I think a lot about death and grief and loss.

I really enjoy the minutia of consciousness and perception and exploring the endless mental and emotional crevices of experience and memory and fantasy and nostalgia and here-and-nowness.

I enjoy documenting things. One day a year, I try to document every single thing I do from waking until slumber on my Facebook page. Hundreds of Facebook friends seem to be fascinated by this myopic, indulgent navel-gazing exercise, or at least are polite enough to make comments every now and then. For seven years running, I blogged about every movie I viewed, every book I read, and every noteworthy experience I had in a series of annual year-end wraps. You can read the last one right here.

I have several friends in the world who I cherish and who I feel deeply emotionally tied to. I really adore my family. My nieces and nephews are some of the smartest, kindest people I know. I live with my girlfriend Astrid and our dog Dorrie, a pit bull-border collie mutt, who I'm totally in love with. Astrid and I have had a really tough year together, and I've scarcely blogged about it. Maybe I'll share more of this process later. Maybe I won't.

My mom died about a year ago, of lung cancer. She was 73. My dad died 37 years ago of a heart attack, when he was just 43. I'm an orphan, I guess. I miss my mom, and I also feel just a shred of a bit more freedom to move about the world as myself since she's been gone. I feel lighter, but also somewhat guilty about this. I can't imagine my life without my sisters.

I'm slutty. Usually more in my imagination than in actuality, but I do get around some. I really enjoy riding my bicycle. I eat a lot of meat. I listen to quirky emotional indie rock. I like excruciatingly cheesy pop culture. I can talk a blue streak, and I often get bored of the stories I tell over and over, but also I often remain freshly amused by myself.

That's some of me.

30 Days Meme

I need some writing prompts to get back into this personal blogging thing. My friend Dax is working on this very involved meme at the moment, and I'm thinking I'll follow suit. I've tried to figure out where the meme came from, but can't quite trace it. Anyone know where it started?

So, in 30 blog entries (doubt they'll be written on consecutive days) I will submit to you these mini chapters about, you guessed it, me.

Day 01 - Introduce yourself
Day 02 - Your first love, in great detail
Day 03 - Your parents, in great detail
Day 04 - What you ate today, in great detail
Day 05 - Your definition of love, in great detail
Day 06 - Your day, in great detail
Day 07 - Your best friend, in great detail
Day 08 - A moment, in great detail
Day 09 - Your beliefs, in great detail
Day 10 - What you wore today, in great detail
Day 11 - Your siblings, in great detail
Day 12 - What's in your bag, in great detail
Day 13 - This week, in great detail
Day 14 - What you wore today, in great detail
Day 15 - Your dreams, in great detail
Day 16 - Your first kiss, in great detail
Day 17 - Your favorite memory, in great detail
Day 18 - Your favorite birthday, in great detail
Day 19 - Something you regret, in great detail
Day 20 - This month, in great detail
Day 21 - Another moment, in great detail
Day 22 - Something that upsets you, in great detail
Day 23 - Something that makes you feel better, in great detail
Day 24 - Something that makes you cry, in great detail
Day 25 - A first, in great detail
Day 26 – Your fears, in great detail
Day 27 – Your favorite place, in great detail
Day 28 – Something that you miss, in great detail
Day 29 – Your aspirations, in great detail
Day 30 – One last moment, in great detail

Obsolesced?

I wonder if I've run the course of personal blogging. Microblogging on Facebook and managing my music blog have subsumed much of my focus and energy for broadcasting my thoughts to the world; but less obviously (or more) my life over the last year, at least, has been in enough private tumult so as to intimidate me from sharing the details in this forum. This is the piece of my experience that warrants more exploration, rather than less, and I hope that I can gather the courage to share some of it with you here at TLab. I don't wanna let the blog go, if possible. I need to nudge myself gently to write here more.

Bloggage

I love social networking, and I use it to good effect, I think. But I hate that Facebook and Twitter have pulled some of the life out of my blogging here at Toothpick Labeling. It's true, FB and Twitter are tools that I've used to build and promote my more recent blog, a blog that I can't link here because it's attached to my "real" identity (for those who haven't caught on, "Bree" ain't my real name). In order to keep personal subjects somewhat anonymous, at least to all you readers who don't know me in the flesh, I've sacrificed some serious cross-marketing potential for my other blog by not promoting it here. If you're curious about the contents of said blog (they're of a subjective-popculty-music oriented nature), and would like to know the URL, feel free to drop me a line and introduce yourself, and I'll float it your way (if you're nice!). I'm reachable at bree_zip@yahoo.com.

So I think this entry really is somewhat of a 2010 resolution: I'd like to get back into blogging more at TLab. Reflections on daily life, emotional states, health issues, political gripes, cultural and philosohical obsessions, love life updates, the process of becoming a shrink, vintage anecdotes, and the ilk, have been neglected far too long. I'd like to expand on some of the spontaneous ideas that I jot down so noncommitally in my FB updates, and, by gum, this is the forum for it.

Many of you, I know, are also anxiously awaiting the behemoth entry we've all come to know and love as the Year-End Wrap, and writing here more frequently is part of my master plan to make that project a bit less of a behemoth. Example: for the last couple years, I've been saying to myself, "Well if you just take a few minutes to review a movie right after you see it, you'll save yourself the deadline scramble come January. Sheesh!" To that end, look for more entries of brevity about daily goings on and cultural consumption that will ultimately be linked back to in the next Wrap. This is the concept, anyway. We'll see about the follow-through.

As always, thanks for being out there, y'all.

xo
The one who calls herself Bree.

Wraptease

It's December. You know what that means, don't you? Yes, children, it's almost time for Bree's Year-End Wrap, coming soon to a blog near you. This blog, specifically. Meantime, why don't you study the last several years of Bree's life? (Because I know you have more important things to do, and I like providing distraction.)

2008, 2007, 2006, 2005, 2004, 2003

Now can you grasp the magnitude of the task at hand? Look for the Wrap on 2009 sometime 'round January/February, depending on the intervening factors of life.

Kisses!
Bree

Viva Ambivalence!

The blog formerly known as Ambivalent Fat Girl is in process of a friendly merger with Toothpick Labeling. Apologies to all who follow me on RSS feeds or aggregators or whatever the heck those are, because you're probably about to see that I've updated the blog about thirty times. I'm actually incorporating all the AFG entries here at T-Lab for two reasons I'm rather satisfied with:

1. I feel weird about compartmentalizing my blog topics, as if health, food, and fatness issues shouldn't be mentioned in the primary blog where I'm sharing my personal narrative.

2. I've got too fricking many blogs, and I need to downsize. Since AFG & T-Lab are published under the same blognonymous moniker, it's easy enough to merge them. And I haven't been posting much at AFG anyway.

If you'd like to read any archived Ambivalent Fat Girl entries, just click on AFG in the label cloud to your right. I should have all the backdated posts up and running here pretty soon.

Enjoy!
Bree

Stranded at the Drive-In

Well, actually stranded at Oakland International Airport. Our flight to Southern California is delayed by an hour and change, and Astrid and I are biding time by keeping the economy going with unnecessary purchases of $3.00 soft pretzels and $2.00 bottles of water. They've got free wifi here, clearly, since I'm blogging, but in order to use it, I had to click my agreement in the form of viewing a 30-second commercial for little Ronnie Howard's new movie. I would have linked Frost/Nixon for you here, but the annoying condition of using Oakland Airport's wifi seems to extend to disallowing one to capture the URL of sites visited. Surf without the turf, I guess.

Astrid is currently sitting by my side, reading the new "episode" (as she endearingly calls each issue) of Bitch Magazine which I also would have linked for you here [[wrings hands at Oakland Airport]]. She just drew the mag closer to her widened eyes as she read news that Abercrombie & Fitch evidently has been making thongs (the undergarment, not the plastic sandal) for the 8 to 10 year old set. We shared a moment of appropriate shock before each of us sank back into our jaded time-killing slumber.

I'm looking forward to spending xmas with Astrid's family again. I have to say, even though I'm not into that Jesus guy, well at least not into the institutionalized religion claiming him as the son of god, I really do enjoy celebrating the holiday. The smell of pine needles, buttery sugar cookies, hot toddies, family, cheer, whatnot. For the first time in maybe ever, I've missed my family's Chanukah party, which happened this evening in San Jose. I'm a little sad about it, and I miss them, but I'll be able to see them at our annual retreat and hootenanny (which I most certainly would have linked for you here) down in Pacific Grove next weekend. Preparations on the family songbook are going very well, and my fingers are becoming properly conditioned (read: calloused).

Well, it seems like the plane is finally starting to board, so I'll bid you all a merry xmas/chanukah/kwanzaa and to all a good night.

xo

Chilling...no really...at home

Astrid and I are having a nice evening at home, but this apartment is so fucking ridiculously cold. It's supposed to get down to 39 degrees tonight, and this drafty old plaster-walled house with old wood framed single pane windows lacks a certain wind-breaking quality that I'd like to rely on in times like these. The heating unit does a good job, if warming up a five-foot semi-circle around it is considered "good." The retention of heat in the living area has greatly improved, though, with the addition of a sheet hanging in the doorway between the dining room and the hallway. But still, too much heat is escaping through these rickety windows. We decided that this weekend, we're going to bubble-wrap them for insulation, as demonstrated here. I'll letcha know how it goes.

Working diligently on the 2008 Wrap, and am in some disbelief that the year is almost over.

Ah, our pizza has arrived. If my extremities can't be warm right now, at least my belly'll be. And on that note, I'll stop subjecting you to this, perhaps my most mundane entry ever.

xo

Procrastination Station

Working on a case presentation for my supervision group, and alternating this with glimpses of Facebook, long tangenting click-sessions on Wikipedia, and the writing of this and future blog entries. This pattern is reminding me of my angst-laden thesis days of the year-passed. Case presentations are way too much like homework assignments, informative to write and report with therapy peers, but such a drudgery to produce, if one is not in the mood, which clearly I am not. Give me shiny distractions, please! I pity the clients of mine who struggle with procrastination and think that I can actually help them.

A good thing came of today, though, which definitely portends breaking through some of the stagnation: I finally marched down to the post office and obtained my P.O. Box, a key step in filing my application for my therapy intern status with the Board of Behavioral Sciences. Many of my former classmates have already gotten their intern numbers, and I haven't even filed yet. What's worse is that the longer I wait, the more my already-clocked therapy hours will cease to count toward my license. I've gotten myself into this, and I'll get m'self out, eventually. I'm not too worried.

What's in a name?

I've been asked a bunch of times why this blog is called "Toothpick Labeling." I should really give credit where it's due finally and explain that it comes from a scene in the influential Richard Linklater film Slacker, in which a man ("Happy-Go-Lucky Guy") wanders into a diner and encounters an emotionally disturbed woman ("Traumatized Yacht Owner") muttering to herself:

TRAUMATIZED YACHT OWNER
...you should, you should, you, you should never traumatize a woman sexually--I should know, I'm a medical doctor. You should never, traumatize, you should never name things in order...

CRANKY COOK
Hey, cool it down over here.

The Happy-Go-Lucky Guy is perplexed by this all but just sits there. He quietly leans over to observe the lady until she once again focuses her attention on him.

TRAUMATIZED YACHT OWNER
...Toothpicks, toothpicks, toothpick labeling...

It's a bit of dialogue that has long captured my imagination, though admittedly, I'd always sort of glossed over the psychological import of this woman's damaged disposition. I'd rather been drawn by the obsessive quality of the concept of the labeling of toothpicks. How does one label a toothpick, anyway? It seems a brain-breaking exercise destined for failure. The idea of it reflects the myopic detail-orientation of a personal blog, at least one that I would author, and when it came time for me to begin my writings at Blogger after making my online journaling home at Diaryland for three years, it rose somehow from the deep reaches of my neocortex as a suitable name for the new venture. I think it's turned out to be rather apt.

Shameless Self-Promotion

I really had some momentum for a while with updating, but it's been several days since my last post, and I've lacked inspiration. I've been working on the blog in the background, though, doing some promo and working on entries to be posted at key times in the near-future.

Has anyone seen my Toothpick Labels around San Francisco yet? I've been sheepishly sticking these 1x4" promos all over sign posts, bike racks, and Muni stops in the Mission, TriBeSa, and the Lower Haight.

I imagine it's a hilarious sight to see me engaged in the petty defacement of public property: I pull a label from the backing, looking around to case the situation, and stick it on as quickly as I can, walking away as nonchalantly as possible. A tiny little adrenaline rush occurs which I attribute to paranoia and the thrill of doing something naughty. I don't know whether this will improve my readership, but it's fun! Definitely let me know if you spot one! I'll be expanding into the upper Haight, Castro, and various other neighborhoods as my schedule allows.

A totally legit way to help me promote my blog, if you're also on Blogger, is to become a public Follower of Toothpick Labeling. Quick and painless, and that way you get updates on my posts directly in your Blogger dashboard, and I get to know who the hell's reading this thing.

And lastly, I'll take this opportunity to remind my loyal readers that, oh yes, the 2008 Wrap is in heavy production mode, and will be posted as soon as possible after the turn of the year. That's a scant couple months away, so do be titillated, by all means! If you're new to Tlab and don't know what this "Wrap" is of which I speak, click onto the 2007 Wrap in the Faves section on the right and get yourself acquainted!

Thanks for being out there, youz.

xo
Bree

You Will Submit to 80's Music

Working on a longer entry at the moment, but thought you might like a real-time update of the sometimes fantastic and sometimes awful 80's playlist at the café where I'm currently writing. Look for updates over the next hour or two!

So. Central Rain by R.E.M. (when this wonderful old R.E.M. song was playing in the café, I thought it a good sign. Little did I know I'd have to be assaulted by infuriatingly catchy Billy Joel and Hall and Oates tunes for the remainder of my stay.)
Jeopardy by Greg Kihn
It's a Mistake by Men At Work
Family Man by Hall and Oates
People Are People by Depeche Mode
some godawful George Thoroughgood song
Pulling Mussels (From the Shell) by Squeeze! (pretty obscure, right?)
Don't Be Cruel, as peformed by Cheap Trick
King of Pain by the Police
Our House by Madness
Tell Her About it by Billy Joel (ugh!)
Manic Monday by...um...the Bangles (did I get it right?)
A Million Miles Away by the Plimsouls (sounding very Replacementsy)
Come Dancing by the Kinks (was this released in the 80's? maybe...)
Saved By Zero by The Fixx
I Know Tonight by the Cars
Let's Go Crazy by Prince
Mayor of Simpleton by XTC (nice to hear this one! Been a long time.)
Show Me by the Pretenders (Yay!! I have to say, I think the Pretenders and Chrissie Hynde are really underrated by retro-appropriating hipsters everywhere. They quite rock, IMHO)
Express Yourself by Madonna
Don't Dream It's Over by Crowded House
Freedom by Wham! (not to be confused with "Freedom 90" by George Michael, solo, songs of the same title and quite different in theme. Very self-aware, George.)

Progress - or not.

Hi. Not much forward momentum on the thesis, though I've been sitting with it, and have managed to write a few more sentences. This is one of the most nerve-wracking things I've ever done, and though I'm pleased with my thinking on the subject, I feel like all the angst and carrying on and trouble has been pretty pointless. It's really just a paper. It has a lot of symbolic meaning tied to it, and the content has a lot of emotional meaning, but at the end of the day, it's just words on paper. I know I can do this, and yet I've given myself pretty much no time to produce the bulk of it I need to by Thursday. I've been sitting with it all day so far, and I'll have to get going to meet my carpool for class in about an hour. Then there's small blocks of time tonight, tomorrow morning, and Thursday morning til early afternoon before it needs to be done, as in done. ((Big breath!))

There are so many other things I want to write about, and I'm so relieved that it's almost over. I've been jotting down ideas for both blogs, and I've been stealing time to fill in pieces of my 2008 Wrap, which will be in full production before ya know it (the year's half-over already, people!) And then there's the semblance of summer before I've got to gear up for the dreaded job search (more on why I'm dreading it another time.)

Sigh.

Playing with (the idea of) Death

I'm so moved to continue redesigning the blog - not near satisfied with the template I chose, and I'm realizing now it's way too similar to the template I picked for my other blog. But I clearly don't have time to fiddle with it. Here I am, holed up at a café in the neighborhood, working on my final thesis draft. Or trying to work on it, and continuing to get pulled into tinkering with the blog design. What's nice is that I am finally getting into some free styling philosophical discourse in the paper, away from the ideas of the psychoanalytic canon and into my own obsessions about the dynamics of death inside intimacy. It's freeing to be here and begin to explore and articulate my ideas in tangible written words. In some way, I'm sure I hoped to master my own death anxiety by writing this paper, and I know I won't accomplish that (I think it's pretty impossible.) But the more I force myself to confront it, and in fact to become playful with the ideas, even, the less it's triggering my intense anxiety. I'm inspired by something Irvin Yalom (one of my current heroes) said about dealing with death anxiety. He said that while actual, physical death ultimately destroys us, confronting the concept of death is our salvation. And on that note, it's back to the drawing board with me.