Communication

I've been applying for jobs recently, as I've mentioned over the past few months, and every one has a different version of the question "describe your skills in oral and written communication."  Truth be told, oral communication has always been one of my weaknesses, including on performance evaluations.  And I'm not terribly confident in my oral communication.  Part of it, I think, is that in some areas I skip over details that I don't realize aren't obvious to other people.  Part of it might be (perhaps related to the first bit) that in my formative years, people didn't like it when I talked too much, so I learned to pull back.  Part of it is that I'm better at trees than forests, so when I'm speaking I lose the big picture.  But on job applications I can't say all this!  So I pull a few examples of things I've done and just pretend that I'm good at it.

In real life, however, I can't pretend so much!  One of the reasons that Sabrina tells me to be quiet so much is that I tend to over-explain.  "You need to hold my hand while we walk to the playground because I don't know you well enough yet to know that you won't run into the street, and this is a busy street and I don't want you to get hurt."  (That warranted a "Stop Talking!"  I also now know that she is super-good about holding hands in public.  When we went to the zoo I told her the rules were she had to stay where I could see her and come to me if I called her name.  She barely loosened her grasp on my hand once.)  I'm really looking forward to my Chanukah present from my sister for this very reason.  I asked her for my very own copy of How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk.  I borrowed it from the library and had to return it; one of the techniques in the book is about using fewer words.  I'll be glad to have a resource right in front of me if I need to change tactics.

My not-so-great oral communication has been a problem in relationships, too.  This is less because I say too much, or because I skip over details, and more because I don't know how to expose myself emotionally.  This is one of the things I really wanted to work on in therapy, though I figured the act of therapy would be the working on it.  And it was, while I was still going.  I'm definitely better at it now, though I still start everything I say with a disclaimer.  ("I want you to know before I say anything that I know there is a possibility that I'm wrong.")  But it takes practice, and I still need a lot.  Writing--such as this blog--is a good first step because I practice formulating the vulnerable thoughts and putting them in words for other people to see.  But there's a veil between the words and the audience, so it is easier to put in writing than it is to say the exact same words.  (Plus there's that whole processing issue--you have more time to process what you want to say when you're writing.)  

Anyway, why am I talking about communication and relationships? (Yes, Foster Ima, why are you talking about this?) I was just interrupted by a phone call and now I don't remember where I was going.  (Funny thing--the friend who called told me "you should really blog about your experiences."  Yeah, she doesn't know about this.)  Ah yes.  With my ex-boyfriend (singular, not "one of my ex-boyfriends," because he's the only one I dated long enough to feel that he warranted the title of boyfriend), we didn't really communicate on a deep level.  I was suffering from depression and though we dated for ten months, he never knew.  Not because he wasn't perceptive (maybe a little of that?) but because I did all I could to hide  it.  I probably even used him to hide from it myself.  He told me at Chanukah time that he loved me (he told me in writing) and I just never responded.  I never told him that it completely Freaked. Me. Out., I never told him that I loved him, just... nothing.  We dated about 5 months longer than we really should have, based on my recollection of when I realized that studying together and cuddling were substituting for a real relationship, but I was too hesitant to say anything.  

Now George is in my life (hi George!) and since he lives far far away, our entire relationship--whatever it is and wherever it is going--is based on communication.  We talk on the phone a lot, though now that Sabrina is in my life, our conversations keep being cut short--because she comes into my room when she is supposed to be asleep, or because her social worker calls while I'm on the phone with him, or because he calls while I'm driving somewhere with her... But while I think we are both trying to get to the point of having deeper conversations, we're not there yet.  He noticed last night while reading about himself here that I've spoken more forwardly about my feelings towards/about him here than I have with him.  It's a balancing act that I haven't figured out yet.*  There are other barriers to deeper conversations than just my fear of saying too much and seeming like I'm skipping ahead those eight steps or saying the "wrong" thing and appearing too needy or just saying... I don't know what.  There's the fact that a lot of our conversations happen when we're both really tired (are we ever NOT really tired?) and that I hate hate hate talking on the phone.  I have to work too hard to process what is being said--and cell phones just make it worse--so 1. I miss important things but don't realize it, and 2. I'm thinking too hard about the words to then add the thoughtfulness that is needed to ask meaningful follow ups or add my own insights.  So going back to something I wrote above, I do much better in writing.  In the old days, courtships involved letters, but somehow a relationship based on emails, even deeply personal emails, seems impersonal.  (Then add in that George uses primarily his work email, and only checks his personal email once a day--really! how is that possible?  I'd go crazy--and clearly email isn't the way to go.)  

I'm not sure what the answer is, though I know the answer is NOT to use this blog to express my deepest innermost relationship thoughts to the world, knowing that George might then read them!  (See the footnote below.)  But I'm looking forward to figuring it out.  

*While I've been writing this, I've been wondering if it might be most appropriate--though "appropriate" is a more sterile word than is correct here--to send this post to him before opening it for the world to see.  Since really this whole post is in response to that bit of our conversation last night, and in that regard he is the intended audience, not all of you, my adoring fans.  I'm not going to, but not due to a lack of trying.  My computer is being difficult and it's just more trouble than it's worth--where the outcome would be throwing the computer out the window--to try to fight it.  

Nothing new to report...

...but since my alternatives right now are to expound upon my knowledge of "generally accepted legal writing techniques" or to blog about George, I'm blogging about George. I have been very good and very emotionally healthy about him since I last wrote about him. Well, yesterday when I was feeling blah and depressed I almost texted him to ask him to send me something back flirty to cheer me up, but the point is that I only almost texted him.

There's a super cheap airline that flies between my Big City and his Big City, and yesterday there was a pretty big sale on flights between the two. Unfortunately, the available dates made it more reasonable to fly from there to here for a Shabbat, and since I'm the one without a job, it would make more sense, if we were to see each other, for me to fly there rather than vice versa. However, in talking about it, I did learn that he will be here in three weeks, hooray!

Ah yes, the factor that makes it reasonable to be engaged in a long-distance relationship: he has kids. Plural. They live with their mom in a suburb of my Big City and George sees them about once a month--though not always here. So, assuming that all is well, we will get to see each other then. Possibly over Shabbat, as I have many friends in their suburb (it's where people from my Big City go when they have kids) and have a place to stay--but depending on whether that either makes sense or is a Really Bad Idea--or at some other point in the weekend. It's tough though because the point of his visit is to see his kids. And his kids are Much More Important than I am, so I don't want to interfere with his time with them. Anyway, we'll see what happens. Who knows, I might actually get a placement call before then (one for kids I'm licensed for, at least), and then the world will be a very different place.

Confessional

Edited. (Yes, I know it looks bad to be editing this post in particular. Keeping most of the confessional tone, just cleaning up a bit of skipping ahead.)

Ah, so I need a place to confess my failings, and facebook is not the place for this one. So hi, everyone! Here's the problem: I really want to see my therapist. Woah. It's been months and months since I've seen her. And now I want to. This is not the confession, because I have no shame about seeing a therapist or taking happy pills. The confession is this--I don't know if I still have health coverage. I should. I filled out the paperwork at my former job TWICE for COBRA, but have not gotten any confirmation or a bill from the insurance company (or my job), and know that my former employer is well known for its ineptitude. How irresponsible is it that I wasn't persistent enough in this to make sure that I have insurance? What if I get hit by a truck on my way home from this adorable little coffee shop?

The other problem is that if I were to call to get an appointment, it wouldn't be for another two weeks (or more, since Thanksgiving is in that period), and what good would that do me now?

So, since I'm not going to see my therapist, I'm just going to use this space to talk through my issues. Why is it that an audience seems necessary for this to be worthwhile? I wouldn't feel that this exercise was worth it if I were just to write it and then keep it in a journal or somewhere that no one sees it. Maybe it's just my overwhelming self-absorption and belief that everyone cares about my state of mind. Okay, maybe they don't.

Over-arching issue: subconscious (though I'm aware of it, so maybe it's not subconscious?) self-sabotage, as elaborated below.

Issue #1: Job application process. I'm still quite unemployed. I'm registered with a few temp agencies, but so far nothing has panned out from that. One option didn't work because of Shabbat issues, but it's not worth pursuing a discrimination claim because 1. it's just a temp job, and 2. it's entirely possible that the temp agency didn't tell the firm that the reason for my request for shorter hours on Friday was for religious reasons. But the bigger problem is that I do things like sit at adorable coffee shops and blog instead of writing cover letters and other supplemental documentation required for most job applications with the biggest industry in my Big City. I just wrote a pretty good cover letter but then discovered that to be hired above entry level, I need the supplemental documentation as well, and so now I'm protesting. Seriously, how am I supposed to write something describing my experience meeting deadlines? Sigh.

The excitement in the job arena is that I do have a second interview for a job I'm really interested in, and I think the would-be boss is interested in me. While I was on vacation a few weeks back, she emailed me to let me know that the job posting was open to the public (when it was originally posted, it was for internal candidates only, but I communicated with her to tell her of my interest). The interview was originally scheduled for this Friday, but yesterday she emailed to ask if it could be postponed until December 4. Frustrating, but manageable.

Issue #2: George. I can't believe I named him George for the blog, but what's done is done, and he does have a kind of bland name in real life, so it's suitable for this purpose. Anyway... ah, George. I'm a little worried that I need to be careful what I say, because on our date last week I confessed to the existence of the blog. However, I think he's a lot less stalkerish than I am, and I doubt that he would google "foster care jewish blog" and find this (not that I've checked to see whether that would work to find this anyway). [Added while editing: by "stalkerish" I merely mean that I have a bad habit of Google-stalking. Not ACTUAL stalking.]

Oh, it is So Nice to have a man interested in me, and to be interested in him in return, and to have someone to flirt with and talk to late at night, and to feel like I want to be my best for him (not to be fake to impress him, but because there is someone who cares and is encouraging). But I turn into a blubbering adolescent [sentence edited] at times, especially if I'm tired, for completely irrational reasons. Teenager reasons. Like if he doesn't call me when I think he "should". He's busy at work, has a strong work ethic, spends a lot of time driving to and from different places for work, and has a life. So it's more than reasonable that he isn't at my beck and call. PLUS, he does initiate strings of texts and phone calls, so I need to stop with the "if he calls, that means he likes me, and if I have to call him that means he doesn't." I'm just sabotaging myself by being adolescent and whiny and stalkerish.

And on a related, yet totally flippant, note, I want to share more about that whole basheret thing as it relates to George. He came over to my apartment after our date last week (okay, not so tznius/modest) and I Freaked Out when he started to run his fingers through my hair (melting...I love that), at which point he said something along the lines of "I'm just showing affection, we don't need to skip ahead eight steps"--a totally innocuous statement except that I also use the number eight in that context. (Seventeen is my standard "a lot.") And more seriously, since I met George on Shabbat while I was in his city, he has been home only one Shabbat. He was in my city for a conference, is going to another Big City this weekend, last weekend was in a different suburb of his own city... which makes it seem as if he's rarely home for Shabbat and it was just fate that he was home while I was there.

It's only been a week (I'm counting since our date, not since meeting), but I am really looking forward to seeing where things go with George. I'm not sure of his attitude about fostering--he's asked me a lot of questions, but I think that I won't get a real sense of how he feels until I have a placement--but he's smart and interesting and attractive and leads services well (yes, this is important to me, and yes, it's a pretty shallow "criterion") and damaged in interesting ways and has already shown himself to be my better angel. (That's a West Wing reference, for those who aren't as obsessed as I am.) We'll see where this goes.

More on George, this time fostering-related

When I introduced George, I neglected to mention that he is taking me on a date (woah!) on Tuesday night. Okay, there is still a sliver of doubt in my mind that it isn't actually a date. Nevertheless, it's a date. Or, to quote his email, "'not' a date." Those scare quotes are what are throwing me off.

This is my first date in something like almost 5 years. I know, I know, what's wrong with me?

So what happens if The Agency calls between now and then with a kid I'm actually licensed for?!?! (As an aside, don't the placement people have information in their system about folks' licenses? I got a call on Thursday for a sibling group of older kids. I have ONE bed. And my license is for ages 3-7.) Can I really cancel my first date in 5 years because the kid is more important? Do I say "yes" to the (currently hypothetical) placement and then find a babysitter? Ack!

If you believe in prayer for silly things like this, please pray that I just don't get a call until Wednesday!