me vs. therapy

'you haven't spoken about your white pony in quite a long time. in fact, i believe the last i heard about her was right after christmas.'

'yeah, well after we kissed in the parking lot, things just went south.'

'why do you think that is?'

'maybe my kissing sucked.'

'angela...'

'what?'

'can you try to be serious?'

'i was.'

'angela, kissing isn't the end all be all.'

'yes, it is.'

'no, it's not.'

'well, maybe not for people like you. but the rest of us put a lot of stock into it.'

'oh for crying out loud. fine...let's just pretend she drifted off for another reason besides the kissing not being good.'

'but it was.'

Therapist grits teeth. Smile. Therapist doesn't smile back. say; 'i'm sorry.'

'just go on....so this woman is in a relationship, they live together, you two have a thing for each other for months and when the breakup finally happens and you can be together, it dies. i know this has deeply affected you, what do you think happened?'

'i think either a) i'm amazing and when the chance to really be with me became a reality it proved overwhelming and intimidating and instead of embracing a healthy, stabile person who could provide her with a wonderful relationship she choose to bang stupid girls or b) i'm dumb and she doesn't like me she just liked the attention i provided. there.....happy?'

'yes, thank you.'

Therapist scribbles on notepad.

Glance to the right. satan knits baby bonnet. stops, wipes away tear, continues knitting.

Look back at therapist, say; 'are you done writing your notes or what?'

'just about.'

'are you writing about how i'm sorely delusional?'

'no. i'm writing down a note to myself.'

'what's it say?'

'it says, never...ever be a lesbian.'

Frown.

Therapist smiles, says; 'i think you're right.'

'about which one?'

'both...to an extent.'

'great. well, then that ends that miserable chapter in my life. what's next?'

'how about we talk about your trip down to florida to see your parents?'

'ok, that's fun!'

'what did you do?'

'i got killed at dominos. i ate a lot. i almost overflowed their toilet....again, i spooned the dog every night and i bought a nifty pair of sunglasses!'

'sounds exciting. do you feel refreshed?'

'well, i did until we started talking about the white pony today.'

'would you like to pretend the white pony died?'

'yes! how can we kill her?'

'ummm, i suggest you decide.'

'can i pretend white pony was hit by a combine? like one of those big, huge ones on a farm out in nebraska?'

'certainly, it's your session.'

'awesome! i feel better already.'

'i'm glad.'

'hey, you know this session wasn't as funny as others. my blog readers are gonna be bored.'

'angela, as i've pointed out before....our sessions aren't intended to fuel good blog writing.'

'but it makes me money.'

'money isn't everything.'

'does that mean you'll consider throwing this session in for free.'

'fat chance. i appreciate your boldness though. now, utilize that more when women treat you the way white pony treated you and you'l be all set.'

'thanks therapist.'

'bye angela.'

'how does that work....exactly?'

 'well, every time i go to the bathroom at work, i do push ups'.

 'uh-huh. are people in the bathroom with you'?

'it's a single stall'.

'i see. how many do you do?'

'10.'

'right.'

'more if i've just had caffeine.'

'hmm. so, aren't you worried about the germs?'

'i put paper towels down.'

'uh-huh. but, even so...the dirtiest place in a bathroom is the floor.'

'yeah. i wash my hands when i'm done.'

Blank stare.

'what?'

'i have to confess i'm really at a loss.'

'yeah, it's weird.' Flex arms...say; 'but my arms look great huh?'

'very nice. but the germs?'

Sigh....say; 'look, i put my mouth on girls in places that....'

'angela.'

'well, i've seen what comes out of there....'

'angela.;

'...and i'd be willing to bet on some days it can compete...'

'oh god...'

'with the bathroom floor.'

'well done. i'm no longer hungry.'

'and i don't use paper towels on it either...so...'

Blank stare.

'...you would be safe to assume that push ups on the bathroom floor isn't so bad after all.'

'how's your family?'

'and i don't get great arms from doing that to chics either....'

'your parents, did they make it back from florida?'

'you can't redirect me jedi mind master.'

Look over at satan. satan finishes push up, wads up paper towel, throws in garbage, smiles.

Look back at therapist, say; 'do you think it's weird?'

'weird is subjective. would i do it? no.'

'show me your arm.'

'angela, i'm not showing y....'

'sissy.'

'fine, here....see, satisfied.'

'nice...see that wasn't so hard, lunch lady.'

Frown.

Smile back.

Therapist writes note.

'are you writing down how hot patients arms are?'

'no.'

'are you writing down how to do push ups in the bathroom?'

'no.'

'are you writing down....'

'i'm writing a recommendation of committal to a crazy farm.'

'really?'

'no.'

'cause i'd much rather go to a donkey farm.'

'i'm sure you would.'

'but one where the donkey's are weak minded and easily manipulated.'

'by tone arms?'

'yeah...something like that.'

'well, i have to admit, it's been an experience this session.'

'same time next week.'

'yes, i'll see you then.'

'oh...i almost forgot'. Dig in bag, pull out magic 8 ball.

'is that my replacement for the one you broke 6 months ago?'

'yeah, sorry it took me so long.'

'i love it, thank you.'

'bye therapist.'

'bye angela.'

‘so i was playing solitaire on my phone at work the other day….’

‘and the boss caught you, grabbed your phone, threw it out the window and fired you on the spot.’

‘no. i was playing solitaire and every time i got to move a card on top of another card the program automatically turned over the next card under it.’

‘fascinating.’

‘it’s not fascinating, it bugs the shit out of me.’

‘because you have control issues and refuse to let anything or anyone have any kind of control over anything in your life?’

‘no. because i want to turn over my own god damn playing card.’

Look over at Satan. Satan picks at lint in belly button. Raises finger to nose, smells.

Look back at therapist. Therapist says; ‘you’d like to convince yourself of that i’m sure. but you have control issues.’

‘no i don’t.’

‘yes, you do.’

‘no, i don’t.’

‘yes, you do.’

‘no, i don’t.’

‘angela….what did you do last time you were at the grocery store and you didn’t get your favorite parking spot?’

‘what….that doesn’t even count.’

‘did you stomp around the store, glare at everyone, drop a banana bunch, snap at a check–out girl and carry so much irritation that you told me about it….4 days later?’

‘that banana thing was an accident.’

‘angela.’

‘so. i don’t like door dings.’

‘uh-huh. did you get a door ding that day?’

‘it doesn’t matter. i could have.’

‘but you didn’t.’

‘but i could have.’

‘you could have won the stores millionth customer award and gotten a 10,000 dollar check too, but you didn’t. are you angry about that?’

‘that doesn’t make any sense.’

‘you think that because you know you’re wrong.’

‘whatever. let’s talk about something else.’

‘controlling the conversation?’

‘stop it.’

‘what would you like to talk about?’

‘therapists who think they’re always right.’

Therapist sighs. Says; ‘how about we talk about your weekend?’

‘ok. so i was playing super mario brothers for the wii with my friend.’

‘really, how interesting. go on.’

‘have you ever played?’

‘no.’

‘that’s not surprising, you don’t do anything fun. so you play together on the same screen and there’s this part where you both get to ride dragons.’

‘wow.’

‘so we jumped on them and I found out that you can use the dragons tongue to put stuff in your dragons mouth and carry it.’

‘awesome.’

‘there was a crevice coming up, so i put my friend and her dragon in my mouth so i could carry her over the crevice safely when i jumped.’

‘exciting….and?’

‘and i ended up falling into the crevice, taking her and her dragon to their deaths.’

‘game, set, match….i win.’

Twirl ring on finger.

Look over at fish.

Fish scowls.

Scowl back.

Ring falls off finger, bounces on floor, rolls under desk.

Frown, get off sofa, fall to hands and knees, search for ring.

Hear heels clicking outside.

Look up at fish. Fish holds up middle finger, smiles.

Bite lip, reach further.

Therapist walks in.

Stops.

Says; "looking for something good?'

'yeah, i think i lost my pride under here in our last session.'

'any luck?'

Fingers find ring, grab, bring to chest, hug. Shove on finger. Sit down, say; 'who needs luck when you're perfect.'

'right. so, how was your christmas?'

'snowy and loaded with kids.'

'you went to your sisters, correct?'

'yes, she lives in missouri. they have 4 kids.'

'wow, that's a lot of activity. do anything fun?'

'eh, changed my first diaper, killed terrorists with the 11-year old and accidently shot the neighbors house with my brother-in-laws paint ball gun.'

'very nice.'

'what did you do?'

'oh angela, let's not talk about me let's put all the focus on you, which is where you like it.'

'ok, if you insist.'

'any big plans for the new year?'

'hmmm, yes.'

'and.....'

'well, if i tell you then it may ruin my plans.'

'i don't think i understand.'

'you're not supposed to.'

'ok. well, moving right along....what else is new?'

'i got to kiss my white pony in a parking lot.'

'excuse me?'

'nothing.'

Look over at Satan. Satan giggles.

Look back at therapist. Therapist says; 'last i knew your white pony already had a rider in the saddle.'

'guess that cowpoke got bucked.'

'uh-huh. so, what's the plan there?'

'eh, i'll just kinda hang around the stable with my chaps on.'

'waiting for a ride?'

'yeah, i figure i might even bring along an apple or a carrot.'

'umm, yes. i'm sure bribery will work wonders.'

'hey, i'm a woman of action.'

'you're a woman of something.'

'that was kind of funny. i mean, for you.'

'yes, i like to change it up every now and then.'

'like going after a girl?'

'not that much change.'

'lying to yourself will only bring pain.'

'useful advice you should utilize.'

'huh?'

'nevermind. well, i hope your barn stalking works out for you and i'm sure i'll hear if it doesn't.'

'i'll even tell you if it does.'

'lucky me.'

'so, i was going to make a list of things to accomplish for 2010. so far, i've got ACTUALLY LISTEN TO WHAT SOMEONE IS SAYING AND REMEMBER IT, DRINK LESS DIET COKE, AVOID LESBIANS, STOP CRACKING KNUCKLES AND GIVE UP MICROWAVE POPCORN.'

'admirable goals. what's wrong with the popcorn?'

'cnn.com said when i microwave it chemicals are released that cause cancer.'

'hmm. how many bags of microwave popcorn would you estimate you've already consumed in your lifetime?'

'400.'

'yeah, you're probably already screwed on that one.'

'does that mean i can scratch it off my list?'

'i would. then again i'm a therapist, not a doctor.'

'hmm, well i like popcorn, so i think i'll listen to you.'

'suit yourself.'

'you think i can hit those goals, realistically speaking?'

'that depends on how willing you are to change the very fabric of your being.'

'really?'

'no. i'm just kidding again. it's fun, i see why you enjoy it.'

'yeah, it kind of makes the day nicer.'

'yeah, it kind of does. i think you can easily attain all of your goals. you're strong-willed despite thinking you're not.'

'gee, that was nice of you to say.'

'don't get used to it.'

'i won't. happy new year therapist.'

'happy new year angela. see you next time.'