One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

I used to be a Licensed Professional Counselor. I earned my LPC in 2001, and was quite proud to have achieved something so important to me.

But now, I'm back at (not quite) square one. I allowed my license to lapse in 2007 with the intention of earning a license in Florida when we moved. Strangely enough, I ended up back in Texas, in a bit of a pickle without my license. Unfortunately, it has not been quite so easy to get my license back as I had hoped.

I had to take the National Counselor's Exam. The state exam I took in 2001 is no longer in use, so to qualify for the license, I took the NCE. I studied by butt off for quite a few months, and passed the exam in August 2010. As I looked through the paperwork for the LPC Internship license to apply, I realized that I was missing some classes from my college transcripts. When I previously applied for my LPC, the requirement for college credits was a specific number of graduate hours. Twelve years later, I have to have specific classes, and I'm missing four. One - multicultural counseling - I did take but it is listed on my transcript as "Seminar In Counseling." If the University will verify it was the appropriate class, I shouldn't have to re-take it. Three other classes I know for a fact I DID NOT take.

So I am back in school. Fall semester 2010, I completed the Techniques in Counseling course. This course teaches specific counseling techniques, and we students had to role play being a counselor and a client. I felt confident I could handle the counselor role (I've had a little practice). I used my client role to vent my frustrations as a parent, and felt that the weeks of free counseling was a benefit. This semester, I'm in the Ethics and Professional Orientation course, which is just a semester-long seminar in ethics - a good thing for everyone. Finally, this summer I will have to take a Vocational and Educational Counseling course. So HOPEFULLY by August 2011, I will be able to send in my application for my new LPC Intern license.

Additionally, I earned my LPC under the 2,000 hour internship guideline. As of my investigation last year, I had to make up the difference between my earned internship hours and the new 3,000 hour guideline. New twist, which just came to light this week: The state of Texas is now going to follow the CACREP recommendation of 4,000 hours. So, by the time I send in my LPC Intern application, I'll have another 1,000 hours to earn. Whew!

Good news: I have a job. I like my job. My life is pretty stable, so as long as I just "keep on keepin' on" I'll eventually get there.

I'll follow my Supervisor Molly's advice: "Never, never, never let your license lapse again!"

Here it is, February, 2010, and I realize I haven't blogged since about August of last year. I still have lots to say, I've just been very busy.

I'm still working as the Coordinator for the Battering Intervention and Prevention Program in Amarillo at Family Support Services - seven months now. I never thought I would enjoy working with men accused, and guilty, of hurting the women they purport to love and protect. However, it goes back to the default statement that so many people in social services say: "If I can help just one person make changes. . . If I can help just one person find a better road, a better path to pursue, then I will have made a mark, and it will have been worth it." I feel those moments when I teach class often, because the men I work with actively participate and contribute to the discussion. I'm sure I'm getting "snowed" sometimes. But my hope is that some of those men are sincere.

I love what I do. In working with perpetrators, I advocate for victims.

I am in the process of studying for my LPC (License in Professional Counseling). It's work. I earned my license in 2001, so was an LPC in Texas until 2007, when I allowed my license to expire. I was living in Florida at the time, not thinking I'd return to Texas, and planned to get licensed in Florida. June 2009 rolls around and back to Texas we go. So now, I have to retest in order to apply for my Intern License. As an intern, I must make up the difference between my first internship (2,000 hours required) and the current requirement of 3,000 hours. Once completed, I'll get to have my LPC again. No matter, I don't think we're moving away again, and I anticipate being at my job for a long, long time. Yay!

Sometimes I think that at my age, I should be farther along in my career, more successful financially and personally. . . But I can't begrudge what and where I am. I am who I am ("I yam what I yam"), and I'm perfectly fine with that! Again, yay for me.

Cassandra turned 16 last week. I thought I'd be a little more freaked out, but it's a good thing for her. She's very excited. . . Of course, I would have thought MORE excited - I told her we'd do a driving lesson this past weekend, and she was really excited, but she spent the whole weekend with her friend, so we never went. Would it be selfish of me to say I was both sad and relieved at the same time?

Marcello will be five years old in March. What a great age - pretty much everything makes you happy, and it's just great to be oblivious to the stress of grown-up life. I made the mistake of actually asking the question, "Do you want to have your birthday party at the Discovery Center or at Chuck E. Cheese?" Pizza wins out, of course. I'm already nervous about it - We haven't thrown Marcello a big birthday party yet, and those old fears "What if nobody comes" are racing through my head. How ridiculous, since everyone seems to LOVE Marcello. The challenge will be if Cassandra will take two hours out of her precious teenage years to attend. I'm thinking, "Not."

The picture I posted is my family, during Thanksgiving (2009) as a Christmas gift for mom and dad. After Thanksgiving Dinner, while I was helping clean up, all of the Holdgrafer children took turns going to the Tortoreo hotel room / temporary photo studio and took the family pictures that each of us would give to mom and dad. Tom orchestrated the whole affair, while Sarah's BBF (Best BoyFriend) Steven took the photos. Mom and Dad never suspected a thing. They were quite overwhelmed when opening gifts on Christmas Eve.

I love this family photo, especially since Tom finally consented to actually have his picture taken. Kelsey and Cassandra look beautiful, and Marcello looks adorable. We Tortoreos feel very fortunate.

My worst day with my family is better than my best day anywhere else. I'm very lucky!

August Update and Musings. . .

The Tortoreo's have been living in Amarillo for about 2 1/2 months now. I've been busy with my job, extra side work for the family business, engaging in interactions with my children, and reveling at how tired I am at the end of every day. "End of every day" is about 6:30, when I realize I am too tired to go on. How pathetic is that?

It's mid-August, and six weeks into my employment, my supervisor offered me a full-time position. I am, of course, elated and looking forward to the additional work and additional pay. And as of last weekend, I have begun the long and arduous task of studying for the National Counseling Exam, so as to earn my License in Professional Counseling (LPC) in the state of Texas. I remember how time consuming studying was, and am currently wondering how I will navigate the need to study with the needs of a four year old child. Tom's going to have to be my "wing-man" - Jeez, I hope my head doesn't explode!!

While we get on our feet, we are still staying with mom and dad. They've been gracious enough to open their home, and are always loving and positive about it. I pray that our mess doesn't beat down their desire to be hospitable too soon. Tom and I have been trolling neighborhoods for homes, looking at bank repossessed homes and fixer-uppers. I have my eye on one old house, I think it is about 90 years old, in the historic downtown area of Amarillo (yes, Amarillo has "historic" downtown). It's charming, and WAY too much money, but I'm desperate to see the inside. I'm actually hoping the owners are desperate to sell it, or perhaps it needs so much work we can get it for a good deal. Being 90+ years old, I accept the possibility that the home is haunted, so I've got to come to terms with that little "characteristic." As a woman afraid of the dark until age 30, that could be a SERIOUS deal-breaker. Regardless, we're keeping our eyes open for any deals.

I discovered the fun of FACEBOOK, which partly explains my absence from my blog for the last couple of months. It's fun to write little snippets for all my friends to see, but strangely I haven't been motivated to write on my blog. I wonder if people are interested enough in me to check my facebook and my blog . . . hmmmm.

I haven't been writing lately. I read my sisters' Sarah and Kristi's facebook about how they are writing and progressing, and I get jealous, wondering if I'm missing MY boat. Well, since it IS MY boat, I can't really "miss it" so I'll just have to realize that I'll write when I want to (for instance, at midnight when I can't sleep and get some sort of inspiration to share personal information with whoever wants access to my blog) and accept myself for what I am: a Part Time Writer. Authors of the world, forgive me.

That's all for now. Say "hi" to me if you read my blog, even if you don't know me. I love little notes!!
Always, Kathy

Don't Be So Mean

I dislike people who are mean.

While I always want to give people the benefit of the doubt and believe in the good in all people, it is difficult for me to overlook when someone is mean. And it affects me. (This may be why I hate politics so much.)

The thing is, I guess I just don't understand why it is necessary to be mean. Thinking back to being a child, I can remember moments when I wasn't nice (and believe me, as a "people pleaser," I wanted desperately to be liked, so meanness for me was usually about my own ignorance), and to this day wish there are certain things I could take back. But I guess that's how we learn, and there are those lessons that are burned deep within because of those regrets.

Kids are mean. I wish most of it was about ignorance, but I suspect it's not. Kids know at an early age how to hurt people as a way to get revenge, a method to get what they want, or as a way to derive pleasure from watching other people hurt. They grow up into adults with the same ignorance, and pathetic desire to see others humiliated, then take pleasure in it (I don't know Omarosa personally, but her name springs to mind).

"Mean people suck." I don't remember where I heard that. I think it may have been a song title or a lyric by Bill Russell, founding member (I think) of the Forbidden Pigs. This was many, many, many years ago (early to mid-eighties). But I agree with the sentiment, these many years later. Bill, hats off to you and your perceptive platitude!

Mean Girls. Never saw it. I don't derive pleasure from watching people be mean. That's why I don't watch most reality shows - just a bunch of people wanting attention, and being mean as a way to stand out in spite of the mediocrity of their existance. Movies and sitcoms with characters who are mean are not entertaining to me, and I can't tolerate them. I know Seinfeld was a huge hit, but George Costanza was just clueless about how mean he was, and I never found that funny.

Lots of practical jokes are just plain mean. I can't tolerate those, either. I have to send my eternal gratitude and respect to Jim Womack, a friend and former colleague. He is a consumate practical joker, and when I began working in his office, I mentioned to him that I don't respond well to practical jokes, I am often just hurt by them. He never once targeted me. He's not a mean guy.

I suppose my own ignorance and insensitivity at times has come across as mean, and hurt other people. For that, I am eternally sorry. Even as an adult now, I'm sure there are times when I come across as a Mean Girl. In fact, I can think of several specific examples over which I could be accused of being mean. A stupid joke, a statement that sounded "funny" out loud but later hurt someone's feelings. Phylicia was gracious to accept my apology, but it didn't erase whatever hurt she may have felt at the time. And althought she forgave me (if I remember correctly), I still have guilt over it, these many years later. I wish it could be possible to be perfect. I would never want to hurt anyone. I would never want to be mean and have someone hate me for it. I would never want to be seen as insensitive. I can't imagine that I would ever derive pleasure from someone else's pain. And yet, I'm as guilty as anyone.

That's what forgiveness is for. I've been on the receiving end of that, many a time. It is a powerful thing, and I've been overwhelmed emotionally as a result. I must follow the example of those who have forgiven me, and open myself up to forgive others. I can think of two people in particular - the hurt is dulled or gone, the emotional ties no longer exist, but I'm not sure I've actually "forgiven." A request for forgiveness is not necessary in order to forgive, although for me, it makes it much easier to let go of the hurt. My first Love apologized for any hurt he caused me, and suddenly the wound was healed, and forgiveness was easy.

Forgiveness when it is not so easy - that is a true test of one's character. I suppose I need to make sure to work on that.

How Do I Love Thee. . .

With all the challenges I have to face in my life, there is one thing that is never an issue: my husband's love for me. It gives me strength, holds me up when I feel overwhelmed, touches me at random moments, provides security when all else seems so unstable.

How doest thou love me?
I see it in your eyes when you look at me - a singular deep stare that tells me I still infatuate you, encompass you, entice you.
You touch me, every time you walk past me.
A hug for no reason, a kiss just because.
Knowing that my most insecure moments revolve around the unknown, you share everything with me, giving me information so I won't be afraid.
You trust me with your inappropriate jokes, knowing that I know you so well as to never doubt your true meaning.
You trust me with you inner most feelings, exposing yourself to me in a way many men are unwilling to allow themselves to do.
Playing on our "inside jokes," you give me laughter every day.
You see that beautiful, svelt, 130 lb. me, regardless of what I weigh.
You get me, see my humor, laugh genuinely at my silliness.
Your love for my children is first, always.

You give my life such joy, I'm thankful every day that we found each other.
I love you, Tommy T.

Deep, Dark Secrets - Shhhh. . .

Dear Friends: I share this with you because I love to be silly and I have a sick and twisted need to let you all in on my darkest secrets. If you are faint of heart, or would lose your respect for me to read TMI, STOP NOW, or forever hold your peace.
Love to all, Kathy

The Deep, Dark Secrets of Kathleen Marie Tortoreo:

1. What are you most afraid of? Smelly, poopy things. Hairy, smelly, poopy things. Big, hairy, smelly, poopy things. Big, hairy, smelly, poopy things that move of their own accord toward me with bad intentions and malice in their eyes - or eye, depending on their planet of origin.

2. What is the most recent movie that you have seen in a Theater? In a theater. . . Hmmm. You mean that big, dark place where I used to make out with my boyfriend before he became my husband, got me pregnant, and became so busy with the "parenting-thing" that we don't have time to go to a theater anymore? That theater?

3. Where were you born? San Diego, California

4. What is your favorite food? Italian. Same answer for "Favorite Men"

5. Have you ever been to Alaska? Ah, yes. When I was young and in my "goin' to the club" days. The female to male ratio was 1:10, so I had lots and lots and lots and LOTS of fun. I never "did" the football team, but the fishermen sure knew how to handle a woman. You just have to get past the smell.

6. Have you ever been toilet paper rolling? What? Is that pre- or post-usage?

7. Have you ever loved someone so much it made you cry? Yes, and I am a better person for it.

8. Have you ever been in a car accident? No, unfortunately I can't blame my problems on a severe head injury.

9. Do you prefer croutons or bacon bits? Bacon, baby!

10. What is your favorite day of the week? Sunday, . . . I don't know why.

11. What is your favorite restaurant? Italian. Same answer for "Favorite Men."

12. What is your favorite flower? Roses from my lover.

13. What is your favorite sport to watch? Naked Bodybuilding. Hard to find, even on cable.

14. What is your favorite drink? Chocolate Milk Shake

15. What is your favorite ice cream? Mint Chocolate Chip, never changed since I was a kid

16. Disney or Warner Brothers? Disney

17. Have you ever been on a ship? U.S.S. KittyHawk Aircraft Carrier, where I was first introduced to Naked Bodybuilding.

18. What color is your bedroom carpet? I can't remember, can't see through my husband's piles of dirty clothes.

19. What's under your bed? Electronic audio equipment, attached to seven strategically placed video cameras in the bedroom, which are reviewed and edited at a later date, then posted onto our website "MarriedButWeStillDoTheNasty.Com."

20. How many times did you fail your driver's test? I was supposed to take a test?

21. What do you do when you are bored? Pick my nose, but if you ever tell anyone, I'll deny it.

22. What is your bedtime? About 7 minutes after my 4 year old son's bedtime (That includes husband/wife conversation and any possible sex, which makes for expedient and efficient viewing on the "MarriedButWeStillDoTheNasty.Com" website).

23. What is your favorite TV show? Friends, Star Trek: Voyager, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Ace of Cakes, The Office (Just a bit of the single-sci-fi-nerd left in me.)

24. Who is the last person you went to dinner with? Hubby. I have no other friends.

25. Who is your greatest love? TomTomTomTomTomTomTomTomTomTom, . . . okay maybe the kids a little bit.

26. What are your favorite colors? Purple - it signifies royalty, which has absolutely nothing to do with me - I just like to put myself and royalty in the same sentence.

27. How many tattoos do you have? Seventeen: I have two breasts drawn on my back, an arrow pointing to my rectum with the word "hole", my name tattooed on both feet in case I can't be identified by dental records, the lyrics to Vanilla Ice's "Ice, Ice, Baby" on my left butt cheek, eight letters across my fingers spelling "buttface," an unnamed Alaskan fishing boat on my left shoulder blade to commemorate my sexual glory days, Dwayne Johnson / "The Rock" (post-wrestling) from his naked torso up on my belly, and, last but not least, a delicate script just below my C-section scar that reads "No one under 21 admitted."

28. How many pets do you have? Five: Birdie the Dalmatian, husband Tom, daughter Kelsey, daughter Cassandra and son Marcello.

29. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Thanks for the headache!

30. What do you want to do before you die? Travel to distant lands, learn to scuba dive, write a best selling novel (no joke), run a marathon (oh, wait, I did that already) and . . .

31. Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, my car is acting up, I'm afraid that long drive would kill it for good.

32. Have you been to countries outside the U.S.? Yes - only the Dominican Republic, on my first honeymoon, during which my then-husband told me that getting married was the biggest mistake he'd ever made. I've been afraid to leave the country ever since.

33. What would you like inscribed on your grave's headstone? "Engaged in silliness often, and was deeply loved for it."

JOB HUNTING SUCKS

I dislike change, although I've come to accept it as part of the life cycle. New and interesting things generally pop up, and they can be fun to address, and certainly amusing "dinner table stories" for a later date.

Changing jobs is another story. Especially in today's economy, it can be hard to manage the fear of never getting hired. Fear . . . nervousness . . . TERROR . . . whatever.

Job hunting sucks. For those of you desperately sucking hard right now, here are a few issues to consider:
Resume: Definitely get one of those.
References: Remember, little "financial incentives" may be a plus.
Networking: By all means, be sure to let everyone know how desperate you are - surely at some point, a true friend will have pity and go the extra half-mile for you.
Honesty on your Application: How seriously "checkered" is your past?
Internet Resume Submission / No Initial Face-to-Face Application: According to recent studies, how ethnic-sounding or gender-neutral your name is can have a significant impact. Turns out, Jamie Fox is a GENIUS!
Nepotism: Use it if you can get it!

Should you score that elusive job interview, please be mindful of the following:
* Put on clean underwear!
* Deodorant. . .
* Smile and make nice with the other children. . .
* Do not fart (the silent ones especially).
* As you feel the "nervous sweat" drip down your skin between your breasts, do not allow the resulting tickle to distract you from the interviewer's questions.
* The tickle at the end of your nose is more than likely a speck of dust or an eyelash gone astray, but do yourself a favor and engage in a little "scratch and rub" just in case.
* Eat lunch after the interview, especially if you have a penchant for spinach salads, or breads with dark seeds (stay away from poppy-seeded-anything, as this may affect your random drug test results should you be lucky enough to get hired).
* Halitosis Prevention Month is EVERY MONTH.
* If sandals are in season, for the love of Pete, make your toenails presentable.
* If the weather is cold, NEVER WHITE SOCKS - NEVER. Do I really need to emphasize this?

And, finally,
* Ladies - Deodorant feminine hygiene products. Strangely, this is not a given for some people.

I wish myself, as well as all of you, every good thought and prayer in your quest for gainful employment and satisfaction in your work endeavors.

Live Long and Prosper!!