Seminar to Hell
So yesterday I had to go to Ellicott City for a seminar on "Compassion Fatigue." Once I sat down (running late) with my giant shiny blue thermos FULL of coffee, I began to look around the room to check out my 'friends' for the day. It doesn't take me long to figure out that I was sitting in a giant bowl of alphabet soup. Not only because the heat in the room was so high that I felt like I was going to melt into my chair in a puddle of coffee and bones, but also because the attendees were PhDs, LSWs, and a bunch of other letters. Thankfully, the heat is adjusted and the room begins to cool. The seminar is an all day training and yet the people in this room are dressed like they're headed to the office. Men are wearing dress slacks and ties and the women are wearing nice ‘pant suits’ and neck scarves and sensible shoes. And then there's me..... blue jeans, low cut black shirt, hoop earrings, big rings, high heeled boots and no cool letters behind my name. My only saving grace is the fact that I have an extremely long title. "Emergency Services Manager for Service to Armed Forces, Disaster Casework, and the International Tracing and Holocaust War Victims Units." hmpf. Take that Dr. Nathaniel Peabody PhD LSW RKN WSC, ESQ, POO head!
Being a single woman in her mid-30s (shut-up) I look to see if there are any male-types that may serve as a nice distraction today just in case I don't like the training. Low and behold not only is there an attractive man in the room but I just happened to be sitting directly behind him. yey! He's either my age or a little older (he may have been 40) and quite hot.
coffee--- check
hot guy distraction--- check
Okay-- now I'm ready to learn how to fight compassion fatigue-- I am ready to learn how I can battle the emotional stressors of my job and gain back a social life. I am ready to soak it all in and absorb the secrets to balancing my hectic life.
The instructor begins to speak. He opened his mouth and I knew right away- I hate him. He's an ass. Self-important, arrogant, self-absorbed, overuser of large vocabulary words who likes to hear himself speak-- about himself. Ohhhhh--- and I've only had three hours of sleep-(thank you MJ). This guy better hope I like the material or he's gonna get it.
We start out well enough and we do a little 'exercise' which most people hate but being the social bugger-fly that I am I like this part. We're to write three things down that we don't like about our job and then we have to walk around holding our papers about chin level outward so everyone can read our papers and we can read theirs. Okay-- cool-- I like this part.
Then the Blow-Hole starts talking again. He's on my last nerve already. If I have to hear one more thing about the authors he's read or the successful practice he had I'm gonna smack him in the head with my now half-empty shiny blue thermos. He begins to explain that the reason for our stress - everyone's stress-- all boils down to our inability to determine a 'real threat' from a 'perceived threat'. He askes the question: "Is there a real threat in this room?"
In my head I respond, "Oh- there is for you-- believe it"
He goes into the body's reaction to threats and how we tense up at the thought of a threat. He tells the class that unless you've ever been attacked in a parking garage - you should not have any fear of a garage and should be relaxed when in one alone because this threat is perceived and not real. That you should simply relax in garages and not think about threats there. Well-- that’s dumb. And I tell him that. I share with him that sadly, criminals are not aware of his theory and will stalk people in garages because they are isolated areas with minimal lighting and therefore a very real threat and to not be cautious in such an environment could be a detriment to one's well being and safety. I think its fair to assume at this point Blow-Hole hates me.
Time for another ‘exercise’. This time we are to break into groups of six. Well—looky there! Hot Guy turns around and places himself in my group. This is going to be interesting!!! The direction this time is to talk about the stressors of our professions and to share what we do. There’s someone from the Smithsonian, from a local college, and a few other places… and now its Hottie’s turn to tell us where he works and what his stressors are. However, he says he doesn’t feel a large amount of stress in his job. What?! No stress? What kind of job is this? How does this hot man in his jeans (another reason to like him) and his wavy hair not have stress? He could be the perfect man- smart- no stress- no wedding ring- what is this job, I wonder…..
“I’m a pastor for our church…..”
It’s obvious to me now…God hates me.
The day continues – I grow more tired and more irritable. I’m also cold because the thermostat is on frigid. And the Blow-Hole is still spouting stuff I disagree with. I make comments here and there (respectively) and draw giggles from all the smart people. They smile at me and I know they are laughing with me. Let’s face it—they may be smart—but I’m funny. I even make Blow-Hole grin despite himself.
We go to lunch and then return for more insight as to how we are all just stressed because of the fear of imagined threats. Before we get started again, I see Pastor Hottie standing on the side near my seat. So, naturally, being the friendly soul that I am, I strike up a conversation with him. He had been tightening his jacket around him. The room was really cold. I felt sorry for him because he had obviously been chilly all day.
“Aren’t you cold?” I asked. “Your feet must be freezing!” I had noticed earlier that not only was he wearing jeans but flip-flops! Which- given his vocation- now made him seem very ‘Jesus-like.’
“Yes!” he says. “It wasn’t bad outside because it’s a little warm today but I am regretting wearing them in here. It’s really cold in here.” As he speaks I hear angels singing. Ahhh… he is a tempest….
More chit chat and then back to Blow-Hole.
Blah, blah, blah and we’re close to the end of the day. Time for Blow-Hole to get to the nitty-gritty of his theory on stress control and the deep dark secret we all need to know. He had told us we would learn the secret how to never stress again. That he was going to tell us how, should we choose to embrace this belief, how we could actually live stress-free! I am waiting for this revelation. I think, “Maybe it will have all been worth it… maybe this is the reason I’m here!” I wait patiently—here it comes… he’s going to tell us! I can’t wait!! And then he shares this Holy Grail of peaceful living……..
He tells us its all in the pelvic muscles.
What?
That’s right. We are told do tighten and relax our pelvic muscles and that if we can do that we will not be stressed anymore. (yes- we actually paid for me to attend this crap). So the entire room of Letters in their suits and neck scarves are sitting in their chairs using muscles I’m pretty sure some didn’t even know they had. I can’t help but giggle. Not because I’m embarrassed but because it’s so funny to me that everyone is focusing on their Kegel excerises. It was like being in a room with everyone in their underpants. One woman raises her hand because she thinks she isn’t doing it correctly and I nearly bust out laughing. Awww… honey…. I bet she hadn’t thought about any of this in a gazillion years. I am giggling and trying not to make inappropriate comments. I was not at all shamed by the act of it—it was the thought of all these stiff shirts trying to flex and relax an area they probably have not given attention to since that night in high school after the Prom… But this is not the end of it.
At some point- I tune Blow-Hole out and am not really paying attention to him because I am watching the room of Letters trying to find that area of stress… and I come back to the lesson in time to hear, “….so find a partner if you would like to participate in this next excerise…” Pastor Hottie turns to me and I said, “What’s the excerise? I wasn’t listening..” It hadn’t been told to us yet. So- Pastor Hottie and I pair up.
“Okay- I want you all to fix on your partners eyes. Hold that gaze for two minutes. No speaking – but I want you to relax and tighten your pelvic muscles while doing this…”
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!!!! I have to stare into this Holy man’s eyes and do what?!?!?!!?! I'm pretty sure there is not enough Hail Marys to get me absolved for this one! Good Lord!! Does this man not realize who he's saying this to?!?! And hey-- I didn’t even get dinner first!!!! I start laughing. I get a fit of giggles that won’t quit.I am just waiting for the celing to rip open and the hand of the Almighty to come down thump me on my sinful head. I am trying to look into his eyes and …bwahahahaha….. Pastor Hottie is laughing with me. He seems really nervous but I am cracking up. Oh yeah—Jesus loves me alright!! Hahaha
After the LONGEST two minutes EVER, we’re given our next set of instructions. Tell an embarrassing story about ourselves while flexing and relaxing. Do it for one minute and then switch. Okay—we get through that one okay. Then we get that next set of directions.
“Look in your partners eyes. Hold the gaze and this time speak no words. Just look at them as if you’re caring for them. One be giver and one receiver then switch. Remember to flex and relax while you’re doing this. Hold it for one minute each”
I say I’ll receive first and Pastor Hottie stares into my eyes and looks at me like he truly cares for me. I thought he was going to pass out. He seems a little uncomfortable. I think to myself… well… luckily he won’t have to do this much longer… then it was time to switch.
I look him in his eyes and begin to think of him as someone I would care for. Someone I would comfort. While he’s flexing and relaxing…. It’s about 30 seconds into when he begins pulling at his jacket. 10 more seconds and I am really trying to convey that I care with my eyes. He's fidgeting but I am holding steady. I try to look at him like I would take care of him. Like I am going to be his source of comfort and I will be the strength he needs……Like he is the most important person in the world… and he’s flexing and relaxing….I am really trying... I gaze lovingly into those eyes......I think I’m getting this now…….
That’s when this man of God breaks my gaze and blurts out, “Why is it so hot in here?!?!?!”
I’m pretty certain I just gazed my way into Hell.
Good news is…. I’m feeling much less stressed…………
(flex- relax-flex-relax flex relax)
Being a single woman in her mid-30s (shut-up) I look to see if there are any male-types that may serve as a nice distraction today just in case I don't like the training. Low and behold not only is there an attractive man in the room but I just happened to be sitting directly behind him. yey! He's either my age or a little older (he may have been 40) and quite hot.
coffee--- check
hot guy distraction--- check
Okay-- now I'm ready to learn how to fight compassion fatigue-- I am ready to learn how I can battle the emotional stressors of my job and gain back a social life. I am ready to soak it all in and absorb the secrets to balancing my hectic life.
The instructor begins to speak. He opened his mouth and I knew right away- I hate him. He's an ass. Self-important, arrogant, self-absorbed, overuser of large vocabulary words who likes to hear himself speak-- about himself. Ohhhhh--- and I've only had three hours of sleep-(thank you MJ). This guy better hope I like the material or he's gonna get it.
We start out well enough and we do a little 'exercise' which most people hate but being the social bugger-fly that I am I like this part. We're to write three things down that we don't like about our job and then we have to walk around holding our papers about chin level outward so everyone can read our papers and we can read theirs. Okay-- cool-- I like this part.
Then the Blow-Hole starts talking again. He's on my last nerve already. If I have to hear one more thing about the authors he's read or the successful practice he had I'm gonna smack him in the head with my now half-empty shiny blue thermos. He begins to explain that the reason for our stress - everyone's stress-- all boils down to our inability to determine a 'real threat' from a 'perceived threat'. He askes the question: "Is there a real threat in this room?"
In my head I respond, "Oh- there is for you-- believe it"
He goes into the body's reaction to threats and how we tense up at the thought of a threat. He tells the class that unless you've ever been attacked in a parking garage - you should not have any fear of a garage and should be relaxed when in one alone because this threat is perceived and not real. That you should simply relax in garages and not think about threats there. Well-- that’s dumb. And I tell him that. I share with him that sadly, criminals are not aware of his theory and will stalk people in garages because they are isolated areas with minimal lighting and therefore a very real threat and to not be cautious in such an environment could be a detriment to one's well being and safety. I think its fair to assume at this point Blow-Hole hates me.
Time for another ‘exercise’. This time we are to break into groups of six. Well—looky there! Hot Guy turns around and places himself in my group. This is going to be interesting!!! The direction this time is to talk about the stressors of our professions and to share what we do. There’s someone from the Smithsonian, from a local college, and a few other places… and now its Hottie’s turn to tell us where he works and what his stressors are. However, he says he doesn’t feel a large amount of stress in his job. What?! No stress? What kind of job is this? How does this hot man in his jeans (another reason to like him) and his wavy hair not have stress? He could be the perfect man- smart- no stress- no wedding ring- what is this job, I wonder…..
“I’m a pastor for our church…..”
It’s obvious to me now…God hates me.
The day continues – I grow more tired and more irritable. I’m also cold because the thermostat is on frigid. And the Blow-Hole is still spouting stuff I disagree with. I make comments here and there (respectively) and draw giggles from all the smart people. They smile at me and I know they are laughing with me. Let’s face it—they may be smart—but I’m funny. I even make Blow-Hole grin despite himself.
We go to lunch and then return for more insight as to how we are all just stressed because of the fear of imagined threats. Before we get started again, I see Pastor Hottie standing on the side near my seat. So, naturally, being the friendly soul that I am, I strike up a conversation with him. He had been tightening his jacket around him. The room was really cold. I felt sorry for him because he had obviously been chilly all day.
“Aren’t you cold?” I asked. “Your feet must be freezing!” I had noticed earlier that not only was he wearing jeans but flip-flops! Which- given his vocation- now made him seem very ‘Jesus-like.’
“Yes!” he says. “It wasn’t bad outside because it’s a little warm today but I am regretting wearing them in here. It’s really cold in here.” As he speaks I hear angels singing. Ahhh… he is a tempest….
More chit chat and then back to Blow-Hole.
Blah, blah, blah and we’re close to the end of the day. Time for Blow-Hole to get to the nitty-gritty of his theory on stress control and the deep dark secret we all need to know. He had told us we would learn the secret how to never stress again. That he was going to tell us how, should we choose to embrace this belief, how we could actually live stress-free! I am waiting for this revelation. I think, “Maybe it will have all been worth it… maybe this is the reason I’m here!” I wait patiently—here it comes… he’s going to tell us! I can’t wait!! And then he shares this Holy Grail of peaceful living……..
He tells us its all in the pelvic muscles.
What?
That’s right. We are told do tighten and relax our pelvic muscles and that if we can do that we will not be stressed anymore. (yes- we actually paid for me to attend this crap). So the entire room of Letters in their suits and neck scarves are sitting in their chairs using muscles I’m pretty sure some didn’t even know they had. I can’t help but giggle. Not because I’m embarrassed but because it’s so funny to me that everyone is focusing on their Kegel excerises. It was like being in a room with everyone in their underpants. One woman raises her hand because she thinks she isn’t doing it correctly and I nearly bust out laughing. Awww… honey…. I bet she hadn’t thought about any of this in a gazillion years. I am giggling and trying not to make inappropriate comments. I was not at all shamed by the act of it—it was the thought of all these stiff shirts trying to flex and relax an area they probably have not given attention to since that night in high school after the Prom… But this is not the end of it.
At some point- I tune Blow-Hole out and am not really paying attention to him because I am watching the room of Letters trying to find that area of stress… and I come back to the lesson in time to hear, “….so find a partner if you would like to participate in this next excerise…” Pastor Hottie turns to me and I said, “What’s the excerise? I wasn’t listening..” It hadn’t been told to us yet. So- Pastor Hottie and I pair up.
“Okay- I want you all to fix on your partners eyes. Hold that gaze for two minutes. No speaking – but I want you to relax and tighten your pelvic muscles while doing this…”
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!!!! I have to stare into this Holy man’s eyes and do what?!?!?!!?! I'm pretty sure there is not enough Hail Marys to get me absolved for this one! Good Lord!! Does this man not realize who he's saying this to?!?! And hey-- I didn’t even get dinner first!!!! I start laughing. I get a fit of giggles that won’t quit.I am just waiting for the celing to rip open and the hand of the Almighty to come down thump me on my sinful head. I am trying to look into his eyes and …bwahahahaha….. Pastor Hottie is laughing with me. He seems really nervous but I am cracking up. Oh yeah—Jesus loves me alright!! Hahaha
After the LONGEST two minutes EVER, we’re given our next set of instructions. Tell an embarrassing story about ourselves while flexing and relaxing. Do it for one minute and then switch. Okay—we get through that one okay. Then we get that next set of directions.
“Look in your partners eyes. Hold the gaze and this time speak no words. Just look at them as if you’re caring for them. One be giver and one receiver then switch. Remember to flex and relax while you’re doing this. Hold it for one minute each”
I say I’ll receive first and Pastor Hottie stares into my eyes and looks at me like he truly cares for me. I thought he was going to pass out. He seems a little uncomfortable. I think to myself… well… luckily he won’t have to do this much longer… then it was time to switch.
I look him in his eyes and begin to think of him as someone I would care for. Someone I would comfort. While he’s flexing and relaxing…. It’s about 30 seconds into when he begins pulling at his jacket. 10 more seconds and I am really trying to convey that I care with my eyes. He's fidgeting but I am holding steady. I try to look at him like I would take care of him. Like I am going to be his source of comfort and I will be the strength he needs……Like he is the most important person in the world… and he’s flexing and relaxing….I am really trying... I gaze lovingly into those eyes......I think I’m getting this now…….
That’s when this man of God breaks my gaze and blurts out, “Why is it so hot in here?!?!?!”
I’m pretty certain I just gazed my way into Hell.
Good news is…. I’m feeling much less stressed…………
(flex- relax-flex-relax flex relax)
Love it!
ReplyDeleteWay too funny!!! Keep em coming - they make my day!
ReplyDeleteThat was refreshing. It's nice to know that when six gang members attack you while walking to your car, all you have to do is a few pelvic presses and they will all just magically vanish. Too much.
ReplyDeleteI loved this.. I wanted to hear you got a date with him. xoxooxxoo. Thanks for sharing !
ReplyDeleteomg (g can stand for gosh, don't want pastor hottie to be offended!) lmbo! you are a riot and I love your writing style!
ReplyDeleteThis was very entertaining. I stumbled onto this by accident and I really enjoyed it.
ReplyDeletetylerduren4lyf
Cyndi, that was hilarious. So enjoyable I love your writing style and flirty ways. Btw, pastors can be married! lol
ReplyDelete