Social working

I've had to begin the process of telling my clients that I won't be their social worker anymore. For some clients I'm cheering inside, but for others I am really sad to have to leave them. Probably more sad than they are. I've been in some denial about the whole termination process and I how I feel about saying goodbye to clients, my old position and the work I did, my fabuloso coworkers. I tried to meet one teenage client to tell him I'd be leaving and he took off once he saw me, in some denial about his own impending emancipation. I went to another home visit today and saw a kid and her grandma. Two very fun things that came from it.

1. She wanted to sit up close to me to tell me about a boy she has a crush on in her 5th grade class. Then she told me I smell like peaches.

2. Conversation between her and her grandma.

Kid: Grandma, I have something to tell you.
Grandma: Well, what is it baby? Something bad?
Kid: I had a stomach ache today in school and I felt dizzy. But then I told my teacher and it went away.
Grandma: Oh, that's all. That's normal. I thought you was going to tell me something really bad happened. Did you poop? Did you need to poop?
Kid: No, I pooped before it started hurting.
Grandma: Alright sweety.

Aw, how do you say goodbye to that?

New (mis)adventures

A shrimp and spinach noodle soup I made for myself last night.

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Two weeks ago I attended a yoga class. It was super mini, with only three people attending behind the instructor. The instructor seemed slightly annoyed that so few people attended, but powered on through the class. Well, one of the positions involved lying on your back and holding your feet. Right when I got in the position, I could feel it rumbling within me. Despite some struggles to get some abdominal control going out popped a queef. Boooeee. Of all things. And then we had to roll around in the same position. Again, unsuppressed queefs. And, mind you, we were in a big empty room with our mats all in a cross configuration, up close and personal. It was the first experience of vaginal flatulence in public for me, having long learned to master the muscles that control the other kind of farts. Mortification aside, I now see the benefit of Kegels.

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I went to Oakland's Chinatown to get some dim sum items for a potluck I'm going to shortly today. While walking back home with my bag of goodies, a homeless dude came up to me asking for help getting something to eat. I balanced my umbrella under my chin and started to undo my bright pink plastic bag. The guy got a disgusted look on his face and said, "I don't want your food! I want McDonald's!" and waved me off dismissively. Hey man, if you're really that picky you find someone else. I'll keep my pork buns, thanks.