CT from a CA perspective

I grew up in California. Currently, I live in Connecticut. I'm starting to "pass" as a Nutmegger or New Englander. Yes, the people who are from Connecticut or live in Connecticut are called Nutmeggers. In the winter, I seem to notice the particular differences between CA and CT.
One of the first thing I noticed was the hooks and coat racks. When people are out dinning, they can either leave their coats at the door or they put them on hooks conveniently located around the place. I've seen this and had to do this at bars and restaurants. Since the winters in the Bay Area and on the coast of Southern California are mild compared to the East Coast so, these hooks are not required.

I lived with roommates and during the fall, they started making comments about the weather and the leaves. This is part of the culture of a East Coaster. As kids are growing up, they watch the news as they comment on how the weather is going to effect the color of the leaves. My crazy roommates were saying that it was too dry and the leaves were going to turn brown. I didn't care much for this. I didn't see the big deal. As I drove my 30 minutes to work, I noticed the trees along the side of the freeway were in various states of green, yellow, orange, red, and brown. There are some great undulating roads, perfect for seeing the foliage.

During Spring, the showers of rain are really heavy. They're almost torrential. And people know how to drive in this. They even drive fast. They do not worry about oil on the roads. Sometimes it floods, yet, CT is mostly flat so they don't have to worry so much about the mudslides or flash floods. The hilly areas aren't around the coastal areas and the coastal areas are the places that flood. Also, people know how to drive in the snow.

People know if they have gas, electric, or oil heating. This becomes a debate. Which one is more expensive? I've had mostly electric heating. So, my electricity bill goes up about 100 to 200 dollars during the winter months. I lived in one place with oil heating. The shower was cold for about 15 minutes before it was scorching and then went back and forth between scorching and lukewarm. This did not make for a happy me. When the oil went out, I didn't really notice. The water didn't heat up for about 25 minutes and then was lukewarm. I didn't get the heater to work in my room so, I didn't know it was colder than usual. When it was fixed and I had to learn more about oil and the machinery in the basement that I had formally ignored, it was complicated and weird. It was all pipes, levers, and doodads. "And if it gets cold again, quickly switch this on and off to release the water, it'll be hot." I moved out about a month later. It was around $400 up front for the oil. My coworker recently had problems with his oil and it was $150 up front to get someone to come out to even look at the thing. Some places have free heating. It's definitely a selling point.

"Do you have front wheel or rear wheel drive?" I didn't know this was something important until I moved and was asked about it for the first time. My Toyota was a rear wheel drive. This is good for the snow. I also have drum breaks. This is also good because they don't have as much issues as cars with break pads. The drum breaks also help during the snow as long as snow doesn't get stuck in there. I spun out about three times (one in 2008 and two in 2009 on the same day). The first time, there was damage to my car. I hit the center divide. My coworker had the suggestion to follow trucks because they'll set the pace for what's safe to drive during the snow. The other two times, I was able to remember to take the hands off the wheel and the brake so I wouldn't try to overcompensate and fishtail. Yes, a person basically does nothing when they are sliding on snow and really, it's less scary that way. With front wheel drive, it's difficult to drive in snow.

I bought a car. Now, in California, you shop, you pick, you buy, and you drive away that day. You get a sticker to put in your window and go on your way. The title is on colorful paper with an embossed seal on it. CT is very different. You shop, pick, and then sign. You wait three days before driving off the lot. If you want to drive the car before then, you get to put on "Dealer Plates" with a piece of paper giving you permission to have those plates. Then, you sign, sign, sign, and then you get new plates for the car, they send back the old plates, and you get print out. That is title to the car. I think it's weird to have new plates every time you buy a car. If CT wanted to save money, they could get rid of that whole process and keep old plates on the cars.

The attitudes of people are very different between New Haven and the Bay Area. This was expected. When I lived in the Bay Area, my friends would easily cut me out of their life if I did something they didn't like. It was if they didn't have to worry about having other friends because there were millions of people to choose from anyway. New Haven is a small city. I think New Havenites understand psychology better. Although, they are not always smiling and welcoming as people in CA, they are friends for the long haul-- not superficially. If you mess up, they throw back a beer, either they tell you you f**ked up or they say that things need to change or don't do something and they continue being your friend. My friends and I joke that there are only 10 people in New Haven and you'll run into them at some point. And sometimes, there are only 5 people, it's just that they have different masks that they wear. There have been many a times when I was walking somewhere with a friend only to hear my name being called from a friend to join in on festivities.

I don't know how many people have told me that they either think I'm crazy for moving from San Diego to New Haven because everyone wants to live in San Diego. My thought is, "Yeah? You move there." Many people say they'd rather have tornadoes and hurricane winds than earthquakes. People are afraid of earthquakes. I say, "They're not that bad." I talk about being in the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake and some other earthquakes, including one while shopping near the beach in San Diego. There were lots in the middle of the night-- the bed shakes and then it's over. I think it's funny. I can't believe how many people say the same thing-- "They have earthquakes out there."

I don't know where this little gem came from but for a long time, I heard people talk about how California has "that free education." People apparently go out to CA and they have a free college education. I wish I would have known about this because I would have liked to have a free education. However, my education cost significantly less than even the community colleges here. My undergraduate work at San Diego State cost around $1,000 for the first semester (with 17 units) and around $1,300 by the time I was a senior. My graduate courses cost around $3,000 for two classes. Community colleges cost around $300 per UNIT, one class is around $1,000. In San Diego, one class is around $300 for a community college.

I thoroughly enjoy driving around 3 hours and being in a different state (if not two states), which is way different than CA. The whole length of CA is more than a 12 hour drive.

As my experiences grow, I will be able to write about more differences.

Spells, Witchcraft, and Its Effects

I had a dream last night where someone told me that there was a love spell on me. I believe it. I put two and two together because an ex friend had told me, when we were friends, that he did tarot online. It was also no secret that he had a huge crush on me and often told me he loved me. While it's going to be difficult to confront him about this, it got me thinking about the time I used witchcraft and spells.
I was about 12 when the movie, "The Craft," came out. It's about 4 teenage witches and the trouble that ensues after they decide to invoke the spirits and get revenge on the people who've made them upset. After this movie, I went to a store in Berkeley and bought my first witchcraft book. It seemed pretty good for my first book-- lots of traditions, chants, celebrating of certain saint days, etc. I remember the bookstore owner saying something to the effect that witchcraft books have been flying off the shelves because of the movie. My neighbor, Diana, her cousin, Sarah, and I all tried some things like candle magic, burning things to see what happens (hair of people we don't like, cloth of people we don't like, paper with the names of the people who made us upset, etc). We liked to think we were very powerful witches.
I had lent my book out a few times. The two people said it was weak and that it shouldn't be lent out. I'm glad it didn't go farther than that.
What I remembered most of all were two spells. There was one for love and there was one for silence. The one for love was used mostly to attract my ex who I thought was the end all and be all. But upon reflection, he may have liked me but he didn't pine for me the way that he pined for two girls in his life. I may have just been someone cool to be around because we liked each other.
The other one was for silence. I knew some people who were gossips and they were mean. They would constantly say things and start rumors just to get people upset. I put a few silencing spells on them. But for the most part, they worked on me. I spent many years quiet, depressed. I blame myself for those spells and their consequences.
While I did start at a young age and had the potential to become a strong witch, I knew that I didn't want to be in that world. It was nice to dapple in it. I definitely have a respect for it.

Just a few years ago, one of my psychic friends came to me and asked me if I put a spell on him. While occasionally, I had a crush on him, it wasn't strong enough to even think of a spell to put on him. I relayed the story about my spellcasting and he knew it was true. It turns out, it was one of my close psychic friends who was going through a nasty divorce-- she put the spell on him. I still harbor some resentment against her from what she did. But also, I knew (and didn't tell her) that she was going to have a miscarriage because she had messed around with spells. She text messaged me throughout the whole ordeal of the miscarriage. She was looking forward to this child and was devastated when she had a miscarriage. I knew I wasn't to blame because I had asked others if they had visioned the same thing and they knew my reasoning for not telling her. Spells have too many consequences at my age or her age.

I think witchcraft is something to try when a person is young and can do stupid stuff. It seems like the consequences are minimal. But as a person ages and they want to try to get into spells or withcraft, it's an energy that has to be respected. If not, it can have some major consquences. I don't know what is going to happen to my friend but he's messed with some things that are going to cause major problems in his future. He's gotten things off balance and it might be a steep price to restore balance.

Sexuality and Societal Messages

After reading The Heart and Soul of Sex by Gina Ogden I've been open to new ideas about what is considered sexuality and the messages media passes along. Traditional sexuality focuses on performance. It's about blood flow, physical responses, and orgasm. It also considered to be between only a man and woman and most likely only in missionary position after marriage. This seems like a narrow definition.
But there are a lot more things to consider about sexuality, such as emotional aspects, our thoughts and values about sex, spiritual aspects and I'm not just talking about what religion tells people about sex but also the difference between making love and having sex. There is the physical side but it goes along with the other three areas. Also, there are many ways to be sexual and with whomever you choose. This is all what Ogden, a sex therapist, addresses in this book.
I started noticing little things here and there about what our culture thinks sex is. One incident that I talked about with some coworkers was that of a patient. This patient is uncomfortable with his sexuality and wants to not be gay. He was uncomfortable being around men. Basically, his family said that he could not be gay because he would go to Hell. He does have obsessive thoughts and wants to be perfect. Given that he has these messages to not be gay and he wants to be perfect, he has a great amount of anxiety about who he is. This was one incident I had noticed.
Then, I saw the video for "Rude Boy." I had not heard this song before and was quite shocked by the message. It was another message of focusing on the physical aspect of sex. The song has lyrics about a man whose considered a "rude boy" and the female singer asking if he can get an erection and if he's "big enough." She repeats "Take it," which Anna Marie on Feministing.com noted relates to possible sexual violence and devalues the experiences of rape, sexual abuse, and domestic violence that men have to endured.
"Can you get it up?" is not a new message. It has previously been seen in advertisements for Viagra. Erectile dysfunction is a serious issue, however, sometimes it seems that the emotional aspect of sex has been ignored because there's a pill to increase blood flow. The pill doesn't care if the man has a caring partner where there is open communication. Nor does this pill care if there's stress in the man or couple's lives. It's simple increases blood flow so he can maintain an erection. Some messages from society ignore the emotional aspect of sex, focusing only on the physical aspects.
It's a good idea to take into account that not all of the messages about sex are the ones we have to accept. Everyone has their own values and morals. If the traditional way of looking at sex is how the one that a person wants to adopt and it fits their life, then what's the harm? However, there are people who are harmed by these values as their own, as we've seen with the guy who was uncomfortable with his sexual orientation, then a person might want to reconsider their morals and values about sex.

High School Reunion Show

I saw the previews for the next season of a reality show called High School Reunion. For the people who go on there, high school seemed like it was important in their lives and there was a certain dynamic that I don't understand at the moment. I'd say I knew a good amount of people in high school. I knew them from different grades. I had people in the same classes over and over again, like the typical English and maybe some science and math classes. When I look over the lists on facebook of who graduated from my school in the same year, I don't recognize most of them. When I do recognize some of them, it's from seeing them from far away at school. They're not someone who I ever talked to.

So, I started thinking, if I were to go on High School Reunion, who would go with me and start entertaining drama? There were very few people I could think of. There's Matt, an ex, who I had frequent crushes on after we broke up and sometimes I hung around him because we had the same friends. Maybe Austin who was a close friend and he shut me out for a time in high school. When I asked for answers after high school, he had none. Austin is now married and although it's weird for me, I trust that he's with who he loves. He's a passionate person. If Rachel and I hadn't started talking and being friendly, we might have had some words for each other in person but I think that we didn't like each other in high school because we cared about each other and were hurt about things that happened.

As for other people, there are two people I can think of that would be entertaining if they were in the same room. One is my friend Michelle. I won't give the name of the other person because he most likely would be mad. Michelle and this guy were very close. I was also close with this person at times. Michelle and I were close for a time. Then, everyone stopped talking to each other in high school. Michelle and I are on good terms. I saw her when I went back to visit a few years ago and we talked and filled each other in on what happened in those times we weren't talking in high school. But this guy has sent emails to her on social networking sites basically saying he's not going be her friend and not fully explaining the reasons for that. He has also rejected my friend request to him with no explanation. I would ask him what I did as a 15 year old that he's mad about but it's his loss. There's definitely something there but I don't know what it is. It would make for good television if he was confronted.

Maybe it's because I'm still young. Maybe it's because I've forgotten the harsh words said to me or why I was mad at whoever. I'm trying to understand how people in their 30's can hold on to these high school experiences and want to be in a house with people from high school. I question their maturity. As for me, if I were every to go on a show like that, and it would be a big "if," I might not even know the people in the house, nor care about something that happened so long ago.

Creative Writing Class-- Memoir

It's my junior year of college and I'm not taking any psychology classes. I'm making sure I take the classes I need before I go on to be an upper classman in psychology. I signed up for a creative writing class. It is taught by a graduate student. He is a muscular black man who loves BBQs. He used to be a butcher. He looks it. There's something in the way he teaches that I can tell he is new and anxious. Things don't seem to run smoothly. He pauses and appears like he's thinking but I think he just doesn't know what to do next. He puts his hand up to his chin when he thinks. He goes over the syllabus-- short stories first and then poetry. I am not into poetry. I used to write it when I was 12 and people liked it. It was terrible. I have it in a binder in storage and I don't intend to look at it again. There are some poems in my journal. They're just for me. I shared one with my boyfriend because it was about him. I think he liked it.

We read stories in our book, written by famous writers, and comment or talk about them. We pretend like we read other stories that are included in our book but I really don't. A guy with a red hat mentions "Yellow Wallpaper" and I remember reading it once for a women's studies class so I say that I read it too.

We have to write stories for the class. They're supposed to be anonymous. They're not. Even if you don't know who it is, you can tell in the class discussion by who isn't talking. My short story is 10 pages and I want it to be more. I don't think I capture what I wanted in it but it is a story. I did some research for it by reading The Outspoken Princess and the Gentle Knight. My story is based on my friends and their dramatic girlfriends. When I took Abnormal Psychology a year later and found about the word hysterionic, I know that that's what they were. With my story, in the end, the prince, who wants to marry the princess who is cheating on him, realizes that she's not going to change so he throws himself off a cliff. I realize after I write this to not have a set ending because the characters didn't seem like the type to kill themselves-- just leave and move on. I don't want to make it longer than it is. I have to copy it at school and it's going to be a lot of money to copy it for the 15 students.

The night before I have to turn this story into the class so they could take it home and criticize it, the library card reader wasn't working after I just put ten dollars on my card to be used for the copies. I was upset. I wanted my money back so I could make these copies for the students.
I get up early the morning its due and go to the library early. The card reader was thankfully working and I copied and stapled them right there.

I walk five minutes to the building where my class is and step into the classroom. I set the copies on the professor's table and sit in my chair next to the door and wait for the class to start. The class before ours must have been cancelled because no one is lingering in the class, trying to talk to the professor. They usually look happy when they leave. I would have rather been in that class.

My story is ok. I think it's clever. It isn't too bad. It has a lot of potential and I hope others would see that.
This class we discuss a student's story about coming out at Thanksgiving and another story about an adventure-er with an inflated ego and how he changed by climbing a mountain and facing a lion. I heard a similar story in "Wayne's World."

The next class came. I am dreading this day. The girls in the corner don't like me, even though one has a Polish sounding last name like mine. I hang out with Mike and Vanessa in the corner near the door. They are nice. Vanessa is always trying to find a story in her life. I thought she wasn't creative or maybe she didn't know how to be. This class sure wouldn't teach her to improve.

We didn't go over how to do constructive criticism. I get back all the stories I had copied. They now have edit marks by the kids who don't know how to do criticism well. Each person has to do a write up on the story on top of editing it. The professors gives these to me too after he had checked that everyone had done one. I could tell that he unfortunately doesn't read what's written on them.

The most horrible thing is from that bitch in the corner with the Polish sounding last name. She wrote, "This author displays no creativity." I keep a journal for class about the things I read and what I think about certain things. I write about how I read up on modern fairy tales and there is only one where someone falls off a cliff and it isn't even for suicide. The professor mentions this in class after he reads the journals. He gives me a little inspiration but the damage is done. He said that no matter if we all write about the same thing, we will bring a part of us into it.

After that all meanness stops and instead there is nothing more than, "Wow, that was nice and well written." I don't think anyone actually improved their writing, just their attitude, worried about being too mean. Or maybe that bitch with the Polish sounding name in the corner gave an F-U to every thing she read and the others don't want to be mean like her anymore.

It's unfortnate that such damage came from a place that is supposed to be supportive and encouraging.

I stop writing after this; until my second senior year in college where I took a class about writing. The professor was encouraging. She even had me looking through the Writer's Resource book from the library, looking for periodicals to submit my memoir about my cat. The professor of the second writing class is much better at refining writing, about educating us on how to do critiques, about giving us an opportunity to learn about the writing we'll do in our future fields. I have been writing memoir stories ever since.