I'll admit it. I see a therapist. Once a week, or once every two. I'll probably do it off and on, well, forever. Therapy is one of those things you either "GET", or you don't. My family of origin tends to think it's a bunch of mumbo-jumbo --- money better spent on things like fishing boats and ATV's. But I have found that a good therapist can really help you dig down deep and change/improve who you fundamentally are, if you want. And you don't even have to wait until some big crisis to take advantage of that.

I tend to have a whole list of "rules" that I believe govern life, and therapy tends to draw upon two:

1) People are how they are...unless...(see #2)

2) it becomes more difficult to suffer than to change, then they will change.

There are more "rules" to life, and each helps me see the world in a way that, for me, makes sense.

I don't know what most people think about the whole "therapy" thing, but I'm a big believer that most people cause most of their own problems, thus when trying to find a solution, most of the time it's a good idea to look inward. That's not to say that there aren't some real stinkers out there, but...I hope you get what I mean.

I'm a speech pathologist by trade and training - speech pathology is a pretty cool profession, at least parts of it. There are a lot of aspects of speech pathology that I don't gravitate toward, such as fluency, grammar, accent reduction, and the like. I also tend not to like working with kids - I like kids, mind you, but they tend to be a bit...um...juicy, if you catch my drift. Every time you squeeze them, something oozes out of some orifice and then it's stifle-a-gag and grab a paper-towel and hand-sanitizer time.

I work with the old ones, you see? They've always had my heart. When I was young, I hung out with Sister Norberg, who had a genuine, hand-made, full-sized loom in her dormer, and taught me how to throw the shuttlecock back and forth to weave. I listened to Sister Dransfield as she told me the history of her home, how it had originally been the first schoolhouse in the town - and one of the chalkboards was still on the wall in the back of a closet. Brother Austin had me trained to wash his dishes in return for the reward of a short turn playing the pump organ. And though facebook and FaceTime and LinkedIn keep everyone "networked", it's not so simple when they've all passed on. How I'd love to send a "friend request" to these special people again.

I got my first job as a speech pathology assistant in 1992. I've been a staff therapist, a team leader, a speech supervisor, a faculty member, and a director of therapy services. I've worked in small towns of 700 and large cities of 2,000,000. I've spent time in the public school system, nursing homes, LTACH's, ICU's, acute rehab centers, and outpatient clinics. I've lived in the mountain west, the mid-west, the southwest, and the east coast.

I'm pretty much down for anything - I tend to stay pretty light in terms of physical attachments - and my passport is always ready to go. I love change, I love learning new things. I love reading books, and my children and I gave up TV nearly three years ago. We occasionally watch a history program or TV show/movie online, but this is a rarity. We don't have a subscription to Netflix, Hulu, or ESPN. We HAVE worn ruts in the pavement walking with our three dogs round and round the neighborhood, however.

We love each other - my kids and I have been the three Musketeers - all for one and one for all - ever since their dad died, but time never slows and now my daughter is at the University of Utah studying biology in preparation for dental school. She's been asking me to pray for her to be open to personal revelation and I believe she will be postponing her college career to serve a mission, if I'm not mistaken. My son is 14 years old and I am learning to communicate with him through grunts, far-away looks, and shrugs. I've stopped saying "I love you" within ear shot of his friends, though I will flash a gang sign that he knows means the same thing. And I still can wrestle him to the ground and pin him, but (as he showed me a few weeks ago) I won't be able to do that for too much longer.

First three, now two, and in a few years, just me.

My life is full of stories and if something weird is going to happen, it's going to happen to me. And that's okay. It gives me something to write about. To cry about. And to laugh about. I don't mind. Bring it on, I say to the Universe.

Bring. It. On.

My grandmother used to say, when I was in some conundrum or another, that some people are just born with tragedy in their blood. I took that to mean she meant ME. I sometimes wondered if perhaps the challenges in my life weren't punishments for some sort of misbehavior in the pre-mortal life - something just shy of being cast into outer darkness but something needing to satisfy justice still the same. But now, right or wrong, I choose to believe that God has great things in store for me, and I can only be prepared by learning big lessons.

So again I say, keep the big wheel turning - I'm in it to win it.

Disclaimer: Yes, I know this is more of a blog post than a greeting. No, you don't need to write me just to instruct me on how to write a profile. It's all good. :)