Sunday night, in my dreams, I had four children. Four of them. Three boys and one girl. I was in a parking garage and I was trying to leave to go to Igor’s. My kids were coming out of a door into the garage. I was running late. I had to get to Igor’s. He-weasel was trying to help me back up to get out of the garage and onto the street. The exit was VERY narrow and surrounded by two glass doors. I had to be perfectly precise in order to get out of this place and get going to Igor’s. I got out of the space and was on my way to Igor’s. I decided to call Igor and tell him that my daughter’s eye was cut and that I had to take her to urgent care and that’s why I was late. I was trying to find the favorites in my iPhone(where I keep Igor’s number) and I couldn’t. Some applications were eclipsing my favorites and I couldn’t find his number. It was 12:47. In three minutes my session would be over. Next thing I knew I was at Igor’s office and he was gone. Some glamazon receptionist( like a woman in a 007 film) let me into his office. I was going to show her a picture of my daughter’s eye only the only picture I could find in my phone was of a woman that reminded of an image one might see on the show Dexter. I wondered why I was looking for the photo as I knew the story about my daughter was a lie. The receptionist was trying to find another time that Igor could see me. The dream ended.
Continue reading ‘Dreaming of my children’
Monthly Archive for November, 2010
Blogging is all about the present tense. It can’t help it. It’s the nature of the format. Each post is contained within a given date. It is marked for obsolescence the moment it is posted. The structure of blogging demands now, today, the instant and immediate. It’s like a newspaper in that today is what counts and yesterday is something that only those on a mission to find a given something come to visit. Yesterdays papers are bird cage liners and fish wrappers while yesterdays blog posts are even less purposeful. You can’t wrap a salmon in a blog post. Last years “365 things that don’t suck about L.A” cannot protect your floor from bird poop and sesame seed shells.
To tell you the absolute truth the one thing about blogging that I don’t like is its obsession with now—and it is sort of strange to be working in a tense that I have some antipathy towards. Present tense is, as a rule, not my favorite one; rather, it’s my least favorite one. Don’t get me wrong, I get that we all live in the present( even when we may live it while looking forward and backwards). It’s not that there is anything inherently wrong with now (from what I hear from Twitter quotes, “the point of power is in the present moment”;” the power is in the now”; “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is God’s gift, that’s why we call it the present.” Ugh, I hate those quotes). It’s just that if hindsight is 20/20 now-sight is Mr. Magoo with a cane and a seeing-eye dog. And the past is so full of narrative and myth and stories well-told. The future is so filled with hope and potential and endless possibility. Now is just a three letter word( so is sex and god so I suppose some good things do come in little word boxes on occasion). Continue reading ‘Intense about tenses’
Things I want to tell you:
1. Happy Thanksgiving, gorgeous you! If you are here in the U.S. I hope your tomorrow is filled with moist turkey, lump-free gravy, warm company and that your day is entirely trauma free( The holidays can bring our the worst in people. I think it is because expectations are so very high). My boyfriend, James Hillman, says it is impossible to go into family holiday fun without some expectations. He says that the best defense is to set reasonable expectations. My expectations for tomorrow are pretty low: I want stuffing, champagne and to watch Fred Astaire movies. I am going to start with Daddy Long Legs( even though the age difference/Oedipal issues and Electra complex that exists in this light-hearted musical romp sort of freaks me out).
Continue reading ‘The psychoanalytic meaning of Kleenex and other stuff I want to tell you’
No, no, Silly-Rabbit—not in a “She’s a 10″ kind of way. Not in a Bo Derek/Dudley Moore/Bolero kind of running on the beach in a bikini with my hair braided in corn-row way. However, I imagine if I was going to assign myself a number in that numerical way (which in truth I am totally against) I would give myself a four to five on an average day( I am a harsh and merciless judge of myself and a very generous judge of others—Igor and I are working on this). However if I had the help of a team of gifted and talented beauty professionals, I could weasel my way up to a strong seven. If you add in energy, enthusiasm and extra-credit I would get extra points for personality and wit, not that those who are inclined to hand out “tens” give credit for such character qualities. But what I am talking about today is the size of my tushy. My tushy is, as of yesterday, a size 10.
1. Recently Deja Pseu was raving about RéVive’s Eye Renewal Cream. As soon as I read her review I knew I was sold. The problem is that it REALLY works( and that problem comes from this not being a cheap eye cream). However an eye cream that is cheap and doesn’t work is no bargain( and I have a shelf filled with these eye cream failures). The ReVive eye cream is on my list of BEST MONEY I EVER SPENT( a list I will soon write up and post—this post also features such expenses as grad school and therapy). It is so magical that know I want the whole ReVive line. After two days of having a sample of their neck cream and their famous Moisturizing Renewal cream I know I must have them. This is where the bad news comes in. ReVive makes this product called ReVive Peau Magnifique. This 28-day program of magnificence costs a whopping $1500. And it is supposed to be used twice a year. I know it is insane( and I assure you I am not even close to considering buying this) however it is supposed to take 10 years off of your skin and people who have used it say that people thought they had a face lift after the 28th day. If it really works $1500 is much cheaper than the cost of a face lift. And, I would rather not ever have a face lift and still look like I did.
2. I want this chair. I am not at all sure why. But I feel sure that He-weasel could make me one. I, he, and you( if you ever came to visit me) would likely never sit in this chair. That said, must we always want things that are functional? Can’t desire just be about beauty, on occasion.
Over at my blog, Freudian Sip, at Psychology Today I am doing Naked Therapy today. Yeah, I am like Jamie Oliver only instead of cooking I am analyzing. Click HERE . No knowledge of Jamie Oliver or psychoanalytic theory are necessary(really it is pucker and easy-peezy-lemon-squeezy, and yes, I know, that will only make sense of you watch Jamie) in order to enjoy this post.
Comments are disabled on this post, but feel free to comment over there.
Last week I was thinking about the few times I have missed my father. Maybe it was because his birthday was approaching that had me waxing retrospectively. I haven’t missed him on the times you would think. Graduations, holidays, big achievements are all times when his absence is not ever felt—which is, I suppose, sort of sad. The times I miss him are when I am around a certain person in my social circle. This person had a tendency to be snipey, snippy and sarcastic with me and something about this woman treating me this way always brought out an uncharacteristically protectively paternal side of my father. So whenever I am around this woman I remember my father’s witty way with words. I miss how he would us his caustic and sharply pointed toungue to protect me. This didn’t happen often, but when it did I felt what it would feel like to have a father who was protective.
There were a few other times. There is a woman we went on holiday to Hawaii with who my father didn’t like for reasons of his own but when this adult women turned her lack of charm on me my father turned on her. I will admit to liking it. It was one of the few times I knew he loved me.
Blogs.com asked me to compile a list of the Top Ten Psychoanalytic blogs. I was, as you can imagine, thrilled to have the task of creating the definitive who’s-who of bloggers who mine the unconscious from the relative comforts of a .com couch.
When I got the assignment I was sure I would be overwhelmed for choice. Sadly it wasn’t true. The truth is that hardly anyone is writing about being in therapy and not many therapists write about what it is like to do therapy. What I did find were dozens and dozens of wonderful psychoanalytically oriented blogs who had long ago given up the practice of blogging( interesting to note that many of them quit blogging in July. August is the month when analysts take off. My theory on this is that Freud, Jung, Rank and the others took August off because all of their patients went away for August as is done is the vacationally superior European countries. I guess Freud and his analytic circle went off to Bermuda or Club Med or to Sandals for the summer [just for fun try and imagine Freud in Speedos and sipping a MaiTai and see if you can do it without needing a session or two of therapy to wash that image from your psyche]. This tradition stuck and analysts all over the world continue to take the month of August off). So anyways, many psychoanalysts that were blogging quit in July and never returned after their summer break. It happens a lot. It is so common that I worried that I might not be able to come up with ten active psychoanalytically oriented blogs for my list.
Continue reading ‘Top 10 Psychoanalysis Blogs (that Jung and Freud Would Read)’
Over at my other home, Freudian Sip at Psychology Today, I have written a post called “Nina Garcia Goes to Therapy: Projective Runway“. In it Nina talks therapy, transitional objects, and sits on a very chic couch with the uber-chic French psychoanalyst, Jacques Lacan.
Please come over to Freudian Sip and say hello. And FYI: I have disabled comments here for today’s post. Please leave your lovely, brilliant and profoundly insightful comments over there( or you can just say hello, that would be truly appreciated!) Nina and Lacan would be happy to hear from you too.
Once I was telling Old Yeller about how I was sure some event(which I have completely forgot) had changed who I was as a person. He, in his Old Yeller way, told me that I would never change who I really was . He told me that I would fundamentally be who I was always. He was wrong. Change is possible.
1. For all of my life I have hated gin. Now I like gin. How did that happen? Did gin change or did I?
2. I don’t have red hair anymore. I am really and truly a blond. It has been a slow progression but I am now 100% blond. I am still a Belette Rouge, in spirit if not in fact. It is sort of strange. Having red hair has been a part of my identity and a way to express individuality. I don’t have that anymore. I am a blond and there are lots of blonds and I am okay with that—-and I am still feeling like an individual. I can’t imagine I will ever be red again. The only time I think about is when my in-laws tell me to ‘”never-ever-ever-ever go back to red” and then I immediately think about making an appointment at the nearest salon and going for a Lucille Ball/Bozo the Clown red, only louder. Oui, je suis une passive-aggressive Belette. Continue reading ‘Change is Possible: The Extreme Makeover Edition’
About Me
My name is Tracey, aka La Belette Rouge. I am a psychotherapist and the author of Freudian Sip @ Psychology Today. I blog about psychology, my therapy, dreams, writing, meaning making, home, longing, loss, infertility and other things that delight or inspire me. I try to make deep and elusive psychodynamic concepts accessible and funny. For more information, click here .