My Tent on The Beach

I have a problem.

It’s motivation to work out.  I have none.  I currently have a fully functional gym membership, all the time in the world, and I live three blocks away and I cannot force myself to go.  Perhaps it’s the fact that I view it as “the worst thing I’ll do all day” (even though once I get there, I actively disagree with myself).  Maybe it’s because my gym clothes suck (but I love them…).  I don’t know–I just cannot force myself to get there.

So, here’s what I need.  All 3 of you who read this…I need to know how you motivate yourselves to go.  Respond in your inner monologue, using the exact phrasing you use to tell yourself the gym is a good thing and you must go.  Maybe I just need an inner monologue update.

Until then, I think I’ve talked myself into yoga as a workout again.  Yoga’s wonderful…but it’s not making my jeans any looser, if ya know what I mean…

Confession: I am a sucker for at-home workout videos.  And I’ve done them all.  It’s almost embarrassing…Rodney Yee–yep, I was doing Power Yoga with him before he was all, “I’m a big yoga creep.” Pilates–Ana Caban is still my girl with all the props.  Tae-Bo with Billy Blanks…yes and yes. And…my favorite…Budakon.  Supposedly, Jennifer Aniston said this made her lose those pesky 30 pounds…you know, the ones that kept her from looking like the skeleton with fantastic hair that she is now.

Anyway, I’ll kill myself to remember the Budakon guy’s name but he is amazing…he’s like some kinda black belt in Tae Kwon Do (I’m sure that’s spelled wrong) but super stretchy so he does yoga too.  This is not the point, however.  My point is he said something in one of the videos (that I basically did for 2 years straight) that has stayed with me.  He used to say, “When you concentrate on something, it expands.” What?

I had images in my head of swirling power energies and chakras and auras and things.  I felt I was out of my element.  It was new agey and weird.  But this little thought has followed me around like a nagging 2-year-old for years.  So finally, I stopped to give it its due and…I think he’s right.

If you concentrate on it, it expands.

Of course.  I’ve been doing this for years but I didn’t know it and actually I think it’s been killing me.  Allow me to demonstrate with…a cheeseburger.  Sorry all one of you vegetarians who may or may not be reading this…but one of the few things I crave hard in this world is cheeseburgers…like the, “I need it now” craving.  Once I’ve established that I need that cheeseburger…it’s all I can think about.  It consumes every other thought.  It’s always poking around from the dark corners of my brain, asserting itself mercilessly on my poor frazzled psyche…until I get it…and then happiness.  The same goes for misery and discontentment and loneliness…all that seem to be conditions brought on by reality but all that are actually my own mantras, allowed to form through the circumstances I’m in.

All of this is a long way to say, I’ve decided to choose happy.  It’s a very conscious decision right now because choosing unhappy is a well-formulated awful habit I’ve picked up.  But I ran a little test experiment not too long ago and, I’ll tell ya what, choosing happy works. I think the key for me was realizing that in my life, the opposite of happy is not unhappy, but worried.  I somehow roll around gloriously in my worry…if I’m not worried, I start to worry that I should be. Frankly, it’s ridiculous.  So, I’ve chosen strategically what and how much I’m allowed to worry about things…and I’ve actually started breathing again and everything.

Choosing happy is not easy.  I’ve been trained in worry.  And I’m good at worry…but it’s only taken about 17 years (alright, alright, 28 years) to realize that it’s not worth it.  There is a time and place for everything.

It’s time to give happy its due.  Thanks Budakon guy…whatever your name is.

Oh graduate school–it’s a mystery.  It’s a menace. It’s my life.  What am I doing? This past month has been absolutely nutty.  First, the backstory.  It was the sweet autumnal air of October that jolted me into a realization that, in order to continue to eat and sleep in this lovely apartment I now rent, I would have to apply for this dissertation fellowship due in January.  Now, in real life, that seems almost absurdly far-forward thinking.  In academia, I was already severely behind. Thus I commenced getting on my horse and writing these papers that have been torturing me for over a year.

My progress was good, by the holidays I was still on target–life was looking up.  And then came January.  Oh wicked winter month of January.  I cut my holidays short, I got my self back to Chicago and I hunkered down.  In two weeks I procured two final drafts and one “really good” first draft of a dissertation proposal which was scheduled for January 21st.  After a good but reality-inducing meeting with my dissertation director (who is new and who replaced my old one that announced he was leaving the university in July), we decided–upon the advice of other faculty–that moving the defense back wouldn’t have that much effect on the fellowship application…thus, the defense was pushed back, the application turned in.  And I could finally breathe again.

That was for 3 blissful days.

This afternoon I returned to an e-mail from the evil trolls at the graduate school.  They flatly rejected my fellowship application–that’s right, the one I broke my back working to get in on time.  [THUD]. “What?!? Why?” you might wonder.  Well, because I didn’t have my dissertation proposal done–you remember, the one we postponed on the advice that it wouldn’t be that big a deal.

Awesome.

And so, here’s my reflection today.  It’s surprisingly not gripey–frankly, I knew this would happen and I am not at all surprised by the bad advice, the incredibly rude e-mail I got informing me of this decision (which also told me I could come and pick up my application at the graduate school to get it off their hands…well, thanks Graduate School…you guys are great), or the fact that I’m now on my own again to figure out how to keep living.  No, my reflection is on my complete lack of panic.

If this graduate experience has taught me one life skill worth talking about (and on days like today I feel this might be the only one), it’s the complete control of my knee jerk panic.  I have no doubt this will work out.  I have no idea how.  I don’t even know where to begin.  But this is the 6th year in a row I face this situation in February.  And miraculously, something works out.  And so, I just think it will.  That could mean it won’t…but I don’t think that.  I don’t know if the options I think I have will end up being the saving grace.  I suspect something else will pop up.  It just will.

And after this degree is firmly in my little paws, I’ll reflect on the degree to which the universe is telling me to get the hell out of sociology.  It’s becoming hard to deny.  Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me six times–something is just not right here.

But that reflection will have to wait for awhile.  For now, Mrs. Katie’s gotta go get a job.

Today was a great day.  Better than a lot I’ve had recently.  Why? Let me break it down for ya…

1. I was not writing.  That is NEVER a bad thing. EVER.

2. I was spending time with friends who are more like family.  When there is something effortless about people who you find worthwhile, it’s always rewarding. These people are special gifts in life.

3. My apartment “got” painted.  I’ll tell you what the best moment of my day was.  It was finding out that the tiny little space between the sink and the wall in the bathroom was painted.  I didn’t know how I was going to do it.  And the next thing I know…it’s done. This, I think is an interesting function of single life.  I’m so used to having to figure everything out for myself that when something that poses a huge conundrum for me ends up accomplished, I feel especially warm and fuzzy inside.  These don’t have to be “rocket science” things and, in fact, they’re often the opposite.  I still think the greatest thing Andras has ever done for me was take out the trash.  83% of me is not kidding. The one thing I will say to all of my paired-off friends is this: Never, EVER take for granted the fact that there’s someone else around to get your back.  They might bring with them a host of other annoying attributes but remember…that’s garbage you don’t have to take out and tiny slivers of wall between the sink and the wall that you don’t have to figure how to get to. That’s just incredible to me.

4. My apartment got painted.  Holy Crap.  That’s a major project in a whirlwind…done.  Amazing.

5. I laughed.  When in solitary confinement, writing, laughter can be hard to come by.  This was nice.

6. Pizza. And Beer. Need I say more?

That’s enough.  How much more does a day need to be great.  I’ve got a “stunning” week ahead…in that I’m going to be tired and anxiety-ridden and in need of everything that today was.

Sometimes the universe just knows what you need.

So Kristine (of “Hey my friend Kristine…” fame) started a blog and this excites me for many reasons.  1) She’s funny.  2) She’s a fellow armchair philosopher. 3) It’s called Tomballery and if ever there was a topic to blog about, it’s Tomballery.  Of course, she provides an excellent definition of it over at the blog itself: http://tomballery.blogspot.com which you should definitely check out…all 3 of you…but I’ll provide the context of the name.  We were discussing a friend of mine who really struggles with confrontation of any kind who, in his avoidance of it, actually creates confrontation for me.  Through our conversation we said he was basically outsourcing his balls–completely ducking out of the way of his mess knowing that I’ll then get smacked with the effects of his problem and, because I’ll deal with them, I’m actually doing his dirty work.  Hence: Tomballery.  Similar to Tomfoolery, except we’re talking about guts (okay, balls) and not foolishness.

Anyway, I digress.  She wrote a very interesting post about relationships and the point in which a relationship crosses the line from mutual responsibility to me just letting someone else off the hook for not giving me what I need.  But the one thing that really made me think was her question about the “sunsetting” of relationships–the natural falling away of those who once served a very important purpose but have since grown more distant and, sad to say, less important.  At the very least, our relationship to them has changed significantly.   I have to say, this notion both terrifies and intrigues me.

I have always been something of a warrior princess.  If I think something is important or worthwhile, I will clamp on to it like a vise and fight to the  death to keep it.  What I often lose sight of is that the process of holding on generally turns it into a mangled, ragged version of what it once was while I’m standing there sweaty and out of breath.  It would have been better for the integrity of whatever I’m holding and  for me if I’d have just let it go and slip away quietly…and maybe beautifully. There’s a certain grace to letting things go the natural way.

On the other hand, if I’m being sunsetted…well, that’s just about my worst fear which I’ve come face to face with before…and it’s still my worst fear.  Being let go always feels to me like a total rejection with a side of shame.  In whatever way, I’m so disappointing in this relationship that they’re not even going to try anymore.  Personally, I’m scarred by this–yes, I’ve been sunsetted–and frankly, I’ll always be a little skittish when I suspect someone’s leaving me before their time.  Kristine knows.  For one day a couple months ago I thought she was moving to Tampa and I freaked.  No, sunsetting and I will never meet in a spirit of love and friendship no matter who’s doing the sunsetting.  But it’s not because it shouldn’t happen. It just always hurts.

I think we’ve become used to having our own comfort at our control.  We have things when we want them.  We have choices…lots of choices.  We can artificially sustain things as long as we want (except life, but we’re pretty close to that too.)  That kind of life has allowed us to lose touch with the natural cycle.  Birth leads to life leads to decline leads to death.  That’s how it’s always been.  And I think there’s a truly natural wisdom in that.  And if we let each stage have its moment and respect it, I think there’s something inherently beautiful about each.

Letting go, I think is easy.  Accepting that something’s run it’s course.  That’s just about the toughest thing we have to deal with.  I think because we’re all a little bit warrior princess.

I know I talk a real lot about my school work.  There’s just no getting around that; it’s what I do.  I spend almost all of my time–days, nights, weekends, holidays–thinking about this one project.  I spent 8 hours on New Years Day writing and wasn’t even that aware that other people weren’t doing the same.  I sent a business e-mail to my advisor on Jan. 1 and then had to send a second one saying, “Heh…oops…forgot the holidays are upon us.”  This is the long route to saying, I’m all consumed by this.

Because of this, I’ve noticed a kind of latent effect.  I wonder if this happens to everyone: when I’m in the midst of intense writing (generally accompanied by intense thinking), a host of mental abilities become a lot sharper.  I can do mental math (which I usually cannot), I solve more crossword puzzles faster (and I mean markedly faster), I can read like lightning.  But my senses also get sharper.  I usually have really good hearing (inexplicably) but last night I was awakened from a dead sleep by the water gurgling through the radiator in the kitchen. The beeping of the gate on the parking lot across from my apartment is about to drive me to drink (wait….).  And I pity whoever around me is singing even the slightest bit off key…I’m telling you now, I can hear it.

Beyond this, I get SUPER critical (as if I wasn’t a good degree of this already) but in a weird, detached neutral way.  I’ll watch some weird, schlocky reality offering on BRAVO like Real Housewives and make editorial comments like, “Now I would have panned away from Theresa at that moment to capture the angst on Danielle’s face.” What? Who cares #1 what you think and #2 about Danielle’s angst? And who uses the word angst in everyday life anyway?  I don’t think I’m judging…I’m just analyzing everything.  It’s a runaway train. Over my vacation, I took great joy in watching The West Wing mostly because they were talking at a speed that I could understand. The Gilmore Girls is also good for this.  It doesn’t really matter to me what they’re saying.  I’m just comforted by the fact that someone is talking at pace I know.

All of this I’d call “hyper-awareness” and I’d like very much for it to go away.  This crazy internal monologue that I have perpetually running in my head sounds like it’s playing on a mini-tape recorder on fast-forward.  It’s my voice “Alvin and the Chipmunk” style.  I wish it were energy.  That’s more helpful.  This is like mania or something.

At the same time, I’m fascinated by it.  It’s not always around; in my non-writing periods I am virtually a slug in Gap jeans.  I can be blissfully oblivious to lots of stuff.  In an interesting correlation, I’m also a lot happier during those times. I like slugs.  They’re slow. And quiet.

I think the predicament is interesting.  I always wondered what it would feel like to think and write at this level.  I know now.  I’d like to give it back.

Exactly one month ago I was celebrating a huge push in getting two viable drafts of papers in and moving this whole dissertation process forward.  Today I sit before you with the stress having returned.  Why? I have about 3 weeks to go and the amount of work in that time seems staggering to me.  And that’s just to get to the start of the dissertation.  Some days (like 4 out of 7), I wonder what I’m doing.  But here are the mantras I’m using to get through:

1. Time is your friend.  You will not be suspended in this state forever.

2. Eat. Sleep. Do Yoga. Plan breaks.

3. Do it Now.

4. Don’t panic.  You’ve not really epically failed in your life up to this point.  This will be no different.

5. Don’t overthink. (Underthinking is never a problem but don’t do that either.)

6. Write while it’s light outside and at least a paragraph a day.

7. You will financially survive the next year.  Today is not the day to figure out how.

8. People are not out to get you. Work with them and accept their help if it makes sense.

9. Continue to make reasonable social plans and keep them.  Cancelling on them for PhD makes you a hermit.

10. Today is not the day to find your “inner genius.”  Just get it done.

This is go time.  And it’s funny that my pep talks have evolved over time.  But I will say I’m glad I have ‘em in their sum right now.  Because this is the hardest thing I’ve done.  After this, I think I might be able to conquer the world.

After months of feeling “not right,” I finally feel like I’m coming back around to my more normal self.  How do I know?  I’m watching and loving tv again and, incidentally, it’s a good season to be back in the saddle.  But over the past couple weeks, several magazines (EW, People, TV Guide) have put out their “Best of TV Lists” and it’s the usual categories.  I, however, in a nod to being different (something of a hobby for me) would like to name my new favorite “characters” on tv that may or may not being carrying entire shows. Because sometimes, the best characters are those who are cleverly wrecking havoc in the background somewhere.  Here’s my Top 10 favorite characters on tv right now…they may not be the best, but they give me great joy.

10. John Casey (Chuck) A hardened Marine employed to watch after naive Chuck, a important government asset, John Casey is nothing but annoyed, simmering dry humor.  Played wonderfully by Adam Baldwin (of Firefly fame), Casey never misses to deliver a snappy line under his breath just after saving Chuck…again…and he’s so dang cute.

9. Sam Axe (Burn Notice) Bruce Campbell is screen gold, no matter what he’s in.  But as Sam, Michael’s FBI agent friend who ratted him out but is still loyal, Campbell gives this show an interesting mix of levity and credibility.  The brand of ladies’ man introduced to us in The Rockford Files, Sam has seen and done it all and still has time for a beer.  No one…and I mean no one…has better hair or shirts on television these days.

8. Rachel Berry (Glee) In another life, I was Rachel Berry.  In a parallel world, I am Rachel Berry.  The aggressively talented sophomore “star” of William McKinley High’s glee club, Rachel Berry is the most perfect mix of intelligence, conscience, and obnoxiousness wrapped up in an impressive soprano belter.  The object of continual harassment by the “cooler” kids while and her own affections, Rachel somehow ends up being the competent, talented soul in this whole venture.  I just love her.  And she sings like a true star…while annoying the shit out of everyone.  Mostly I love that this character is so real.  I taught many students who were Rachels…it’s almost heartwarming to me.

7. Deborah Morgan (Dexter) This show is the story of a serial killer Dexter who commands most of the screen time.  But Deborah, his sister, is the most compelling character on the show.  She’s a self-made Detective of distinction who has watched her father die, was engaged/almost killed by the Ice Truck Killer, was shot and watched her beloved Frank Lundy die right in front of her…and solved the Trinity Murders–all without wanting to commit suicide.  But honestly, this character would be lesser without Jennifer Carpenter’s incredible acting.  She gives the most convincing performances that tap into the emotional edge that Deborah walks every day of her life.  I’m fascinated by Dexter’s serial killer, but I’m compelled by Deborah’s humanity.

6. Tracy Morgan (30 Rock) When this show started, I didn’t get Tracy so I paid much more attention to Liz and Jack.  But Tracy delivers the absolute BEST most nuanced lines in this entire show.  And this man-child-star character that appears so one-dimensional is actually evolving in a really interesting way, seen in his developing friendship with Kenneth.  I’m beginning to crave the moments when he’s on the screen.

5. Abed (Community) Played by Dani Pudi (who went to Marquette) Abed is the greatest example of Asberger’s disease as a term of endearment.  Creepy, weird, social inept…yet 100% lovable.  Makes whatever he’s doing absolutely hilarious, especially when paired with Trey.

4. Tom Colicchio (Top Chef) This feels a little unfair because Tom’s a real guy.  But he is the saving heart-and-soul of that show.  Padma, with her weird, distant delivery and snotty food commentary, annoys me in a “who do you think you are?” kinda way.  But when Tom talks, we all should listen.  But I was really sold on Tom in a Diet Coke commercial he did that airs during the show…he’s got a hilarious sense of humor, he knows and obviously loves food, and I think he gives very important feedback.  Watching the show, we can learn from Tom.  The others are just catty without him there.

3. Kurt (Glee) Man I love this kid.  Kurt is “the gay” in the glee club which could carry a particular stereotype, especially because his character knows his way around fashion.  But, in the middle of the season, we got a peek into Kurt’s life that was both endearing and granted him a really solid internal strength that counteracts the intended flamboyance.  And when he sang “Defying Gravity” as a countertenor, I cried.  It was wonderful.  I can’t wait to see where they take Kurt.  He’s got the most potential of the students in Glee.

2. Phil (Modern Family) Playing the insane dad with 3 kids, Phil is everything that fathers both should and should not be.  He’s goofy, loving, caring, girlie, clueless, tender, stupid…he’s what I think I want to be married to.  And what would drive me absolutely crazy to the point of murder.  It’s such a genius character for television, especially among all of the horrible “dad” characters that are either stupid or unreally attentive.  He’s real, I think.

1. Sue Sylvester (Glee) Such a fantastic evil walking through the halls of WMH.  Played impeccably by Jane Lynch, Sue Sylvester is the coach of the Cheerios who will stop at nothing to destroy the glee club just because it’s fun to watch innocents die.  With her swaggering arrogance, heartless manipulation, and refusal to apologize or show any evidence of a conscience, Sue is what everyone secretly wishes they could be if life really had no consequences.  But she does have a heart; she fell for Rod and when it didn’t work out she took it out in multiple ways on everything that crossed her path.  So wonderful.

Honorable Mentions: Liz Lemon & Jack Donaghy (30 Rock), Cameron (Modern Family), Fiona (Burn Notice)

And of course, there are characters I miss and am looking forward to seeing again come the new season this winter: Jack/Kate/Sawyer (Lost), Michael/Sam/Fiona/Michael’s Mother (Burn Notice), Casey/Sarah/Chuck (Chuck) to name a few.

Yeah.  I’m so back.

I have to say, this past season of tv provides me absolutely nothing to complain about.  I have been satisfied weekly by my continual favorites: 30 Rock, Top Chef, Bones, Dexter.  I’ve also added to the mix Community, Parks and Rec, and ABC’s Modern Family which are all freshman nods in my book (technically Parks and Rec debuted last season but it was finding itself and I let it have it’s time to develop).  But nothing–NOTHING–has given me the joy of my one and only Glee.

The cast of Glee in all of its glory.

Oh Fox, you’ve made me a believer.  I was nervous when I first heard about this show.  Marketed as a musical television show and premiering directly after the American Idol finale in the spring, I thought for sure this was a loser, entering the annals of such epic failures as Cop Rock and Viva Laughlin.  If history has proven only one thing it’s that television and musicals are not happy bedfellows.  And then there was Glee.

Set at fictional William McKinley High (in Lima, Ohio, no less), you’d think it’d be the story of all Glee clubs in high school (although we called ‘em show choirs): a bunch of nerds not good enough for sports make asses of themselves on stage in mediocre-to-embarrassing musical numbers choreographed by adults whose greatest moments were understudied the leads in Cats in college.  But that’s where you’re wrong.  Oh, it’s got the nerds…but it manages to address the jock-vs.-music nerd epic battle and “solve” it.  It’s got teen pregnancy, crooked teachers, a failing marriage, a wishy-washy principal, a crazy cheerleading coach, and Emma Pillsbury (possibly one of my favorite characters on the small screen).  And that’s in the first two shows.

Drama aside, what it also offers in an incredibly talented and able cast (Matthew Morrison (Tony nominated) and Lea Michele (Grammy winner) are both major up-and-comers on Broadway) singing some of the greatest mixes of pop and Broadway standards.  And these little ditties fit seamlessly into the story, given the backdrop of the glee club (which solves the problem that happens for a lot of people when “musical” enters the description of anything: random breaking into song.)  There’s no random breaking into song!

Is it the perfect tv show? No.  I’ve got my issues.  The storylines have been hit or miss this season, as have the choices of featured music.  But the cast is so good, the writing so sharp, and Jane Lynch as Sue Sylvester (the Cheerios head coach) so deliciously evil that this equation is primed for greatness to ensue.

Of course, they wrapped their first season this week.  And I’m sorry but any show that leaves me with “Don’t Rain on My Parade” (Funny Girl) and “My Life Would Suck Without You” (Kelly Clarkson) in the same show, both executed beautifully (in their own ways)…well, I’m gonna give you a big ‘ol hug.

This show is just pure fun.  And I want more.  But I’ll have to wait until April 13.  That gives all non-watchers plenty of time to get on the horse and catch up.  You won’t be sorry.

I was talking with Monica a couple weeks ago…complaining, actually…complaining is what I was doing.  Once again, I found myself in the same exact rut that I always find myself in when I’m at personal perigee (I know, I’m trying out a new word), wondering why I’m there again.  Monica has been invaluable in diagnosing these low moments not as random, linear occurrences but as cyclical points…thus, once I get over one, it’s likely to come back around–and it sure always does.

So this time, I went ahead and gave myself a new little challenge (mind you, now, this was weeks ago).  Instead of just grabbing hold and weathering the storm as usual, my challenge to myself was to not get complacent, a stage that always results in such low tides.  In order to do this, I promised myself that every time I caught myself at a proverbial “fork in the road,” I would –as the cliche dictates–take “the road less taken.”  That is, I wouldn’t do what I was most comfortable doing; I would accept the challenge in hopes that it would not result in the usual “comfort-driven disasters” that have been piling up.

I’ll be honest…this logic is not bad.  It’s not easy, but it’s also not wrong.  I’ve found myself in several situations recently when I was at such a fork and chose the challenging route…it returned the gain I was hoping for…it was uncharted territory, that’s for sure.

But here’s the little catch I find interesting: it’s not always the hardest choice I’m making.  It’s the one that’s most uncomfortable.  So, for instance,  I found myself sitting in front of the computer, ready to write an e-mail that I was sure would “fix” the problem.  Well, this is a typical scenario in which I end up tortured.  So, I sat and deliberated for a good 10 minutes.  I even went so far as to write a draft…twice. Each time I went to send I said to myself, “Send it if you think this’ll really change anything.”  Each time, I knew it wouldn’t and I junked the draft.  It wasn’t easy…but it wasn’t the hardest choice either…that actually might have been turning off the computer and blocking the whole thing out.   It was the one that really left me squirmy…because it made me think about what I was really doing.  And I saw it.  And I didn’t do it.  And it didn’t kill me. And in fact, I think it paid off.  I think.

Another example: I was beside myself with anxiety on Tuesday–school-related.  My usual choices are 1) block out the anxiety and pretend it’s not there or 2) wallow in the anxiety.  The last thing I wanted to do was think about the anxiety…so I thought about it…I searched for the cause and realized it wasn’t stress but not knowing…anything.  So much was up in the air.  So Wednesday I woke up with one goal: “Get things settled.”  And I did.  I made phone calls (which I hate), I made office visits (also uncomfortable), I asked for firm, specific feedback on questions I needed answers to…and by god if I didn’t brace myself for the apocalypse every time a question came out of my mouth.  But I got answers.  And now I know.

The key to this game is vigilance, I think.  And to tread boldly directly into my fears, which are the essence of all of my discomfort.  If I sense I’m holding back because of a trust issue, I challenge myself to trust.  If I’m running away from a confrontation, I confront.  If I duck a hug, I hug back (that one’s for Meghan).  I think the only way to get out of a cycle is to turn around on it and look it face-to-face.

What I’m finding is that a little discomfort goes a long way.