I'm a 'Level 5'

One of the most challenging adjustments when moving to Laramie was the lack of anonymity. Prior to moving here, I lived in Salt Lake City. Not a HUGE city, but definitely good sized. You are free to run errands after spinning class without fear of running into at least 12 people you know. This happened weekly.

I do it less often now. The first few visits to Safeway in Laramie demonstrated that is was NOT appropriate to wear spandex, smell pretty ripe, and have wet hair (not because it's raining, but because you just left a puddle on the spinning room floor) while shopping for Honey Crisp apples.

It wasn't that I was embarrassed that I looked as if I had been dragged through a car wash. No, it was more... trying not to look completely unprofessional to clients, students, and faculty. There's definitely a hierarchy in a PhD program and its best not to demonstrate to everyone that you are at the bottom. Faculty will ignore you. Students will walk all over you. And clients will disregard everything you say. Not ideal.

As it turns out, I know a lot of people in this town. Mostly through clinical placements in the community, teaching undergraduates, and as the alcohol graduate assistant for the university. For the alcohol assistantship I often had to explain to 18 year old males why it wasn't always a good idea to duct tape your friend's hands to two forties. The perks of this placement are when I run into a student at a bar, who was previously referred to me for an alcohol violation, and he buys me a drink.

The grocery store and bars are not the only places where you run into people you know. Everywhere is like this. Especially after five years of living here. Yesterday, out for a short 3-mile run, I saw two, yes TWO people I knew. This, I'm okay with. I'm happy with people knowing I run, I exercise, and sometimes I smell really stinky after a workout. I'm studying to be a Health Psychologist after all. Practice what you preach!

However, I recently had a less than positive small town experience.

I'm a 'Level 5'.

That means, on a scale of 1 to 6, with 6 meaning ABSOLUTELY NO INCOME, I'm a ‘Level 5’... next to absolutely no income... graduate stipend. As a 28 year old with little income and an active sex life (my grandmother may have just gone hysterically blind and deaf), I purchase my birth control through an agency similar to Planned Parenthood. They have denoted me a 'Level 5'.

As a 'Level 5' I receive certain benefits, though not without significant cost. The benefits are limited to affordable birth control. The costs... may, in fact, NOT outweigh the benefits.

Again, on a graduate stipend, I receive my yearly physical through student health, sometimes referred to as "Student Death." (Note: I LOVE my practitioner, her name is Amy, and she is wonderful). In order to receive affordable birth control, I have to have my records faxed over to Planned Parenthood-type agency. You would think, as I did, not a big deal, they're professional, and I'm sure they have some type of confidentiality policy.

And I'm sure the former student of mine, volunteering no less, who received my ENTIRE gynecological history for the last decade (because I'm really good about forwarding my old records to my new doc—it may not be such a good idea to be so conscientious) will not blab to the Laramie community about the results of my last pap smear. But... still, it was quite jarring walking in and realizing, "I know you, you have just seen my entire reproductive history, this is totally awkward. You also know I'm a 'Level 5'!"

She's a lovely girl, but, seriously, I cannot wait until the person behind the counter of the pharmacy (and as you can see, I plan to have health insurance soon!) is completely anonymous. I move back to SLC at the end of this semester and plan to start a routine of Saturday grocery shopping after a morning at the gym (and relish my stinkiness!).

Why I Should be the Sego Lily Blogger

Originally from Sandy, I’m in the process to moving back to Salt Lake City after attending graduate school in Wyoming. Wyoming is quite a lovely place, though not the spa-Mecca you would think it is.

During my first year as a clinical psychology graduate student, I noticed deep, dark bags under my eyes and gnarly neglected feet. Exhausted, I resolved I needed to break from my studies and use a small portion of my meager graduate student stipend to rejuvenate myself. I pulled out the phone book, “Hmph, only a few to pick from…Ooh, this one looks promising!” Laramie Plains Day Spa*. I quickly made an appointment for mani-pedi and mini-facial.

How do I say this tactfully… hmmm… Laramie Plains Day Spa is less like a day spa, more like a double-wide with a foot bath. No matter, I was determined to rejuvenate. I was eagerly greeted by Sandra* the spa’s owner (this is actually not unusual at all for Wyoming. Now, whenever I leave Wyoming I often receive weird looks from strangers because I walk around with a stupid grin on my face). Sandra informed me she would be taking care of my treatments today. She asked the typical “what do you do” questions. Usually when I tell people I’m studying to be a clinical psychologist, they say, “I better watch what I say or you’ll analyze me!” (Truthfully, I only analyze and diagnose reality TV stars and Octomom, of course).

Sandra took a different route. I learned all about her husband’s infidelity, daughter’s proclivity for binge drinking, and how to best tame curly hair (mine is straight, not sure I’ll use that bit of knowledge). It was my first year of grad school. I had absolutely NO training in therapy, not even empathic listening. Totally freaked out, it was not the most rejuvenating or relaxing spa experience—and I had to pumice my feet in the shower later that evening to get the calluses off. She was likely as dissatisfied as I was with her makeshift therapy session.

The last four and half years in Laramie I’ve only received a handful of spa treatments, most have been gifts. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE going to the spa. I will sacrifice whatever I need to… even eat Ramen for a week to be pampered. But I left each Laramie spa discontent and cranky about not feeling fully relaxed or rejuvenated. So, I gave up.

Home for my final spring break as a student, my mom surprised (and spoiled) me with Sego Lily Indulgence Pedicures at Sego Lily Mind Body Spa in Midvale. (I know I’m 28 and my mom really shouldn’t be doing this for me, but I do have the BEST mom EVER!). I was immediately impressed by the modern and warm décor. The yoga room also looked fab! Mom and I were kindly greeted by a perky and adorable early 20’s and escorted to a warm and comforting room with a fireplace center stage. It looks much like my posh multi-million dollar dream mountain home in Park City.

Promptly, we were escorted by aestheticians Candice (best name ever!) and Katie to the ABSOLUTELY most incredible spa pedicure room I have witnessed with plush brown leather chairs and huge pillows. Candice and Katie had the challenging task of beautifying our horrendous feet. My mom and I both run regularly. Good for cardiovascular health, not so much for the feet. I also often complain that my feet are “SOOOO far down there” that I neglect them resulting in scraggly irregular toe nails and calluses so firm and rough I can chase away my fiancé with them. Candice and Katie massaged and scrubbed professionally while gracefully maintaining pleasant conversation.

The Indulgence Pedicure also involves a paraffin dip, which sort of feels like if you dip your feet into lava. It is likely just as exciting but sans the danger and horrible disfiguring third degree burns. I pretended I was on Fear Factor (yes, I used to totally love that show).

We were then finished off with beautiful shiny polish. Both, Candice and Katie, did a fantastic job! Smooth and soft skin, perfectly sculptured red toe nails. I coordinated my new and beautiful-looking feet with my cutest sandals to show off the toesies… until it snowed (it is Utah in spring time after all!).

I’m currently finishing my dissertation (well, not right this minute… but please tell my advisor I promise to get back to it A.S.A.P.), planning a wedding, buying a house, prepping to teach a course on Learning and Behavior and one on value wines (guess which one is more fun), dodging invitations to my 10-year class reunion, packing, and commuting to the Salt Lake City area regularly. Also, my fiancé is Asian and will look 30 forever (not fair!). My skin, being the ginger that I am, will likely start to wilt and wrinkle shortly. I (and the skin around my eyes) would definitely appreciate and benefit from some pampering.

Thanks for reading! Here’s the link to the contest:
http://segolilyspa.com/blog/contest-entry/

*Names changed to protect anonymity.

Yep, she said “Chip Ottle”

I am not the most worldly or sophisticated person I know. Yes, I know a lot about wine, but I also love Costco hotdog dates with my fiancé and I am really good at drinking cheap beer. It might even be considered a talent.

What I still find fascinating about living in Wyoming, even after five years here, is that many people have never traveled outside the state. Laramie and Cheyenne are only two hours from the Denver city center. But for many students here, Laramie is the largest “city” they have ever been to. I giggle a bit when people refer to Laramie as a “city.” It has fewer than thirty thousand people and the tallest building is a dorm.

Recently, I was at a campus eatery during lunchtime, waiting to order coffee, when a girl behind the counter yelled, “Southwestern Chicken Salad with Chip-Ottle Dressing!"

Candi: “Huh?”

Crowd of students: Looking at each other

Her: Louder this time, “Southwestern Chicken Salad with Chip Ottle Dressing!”

Crowd of students: Looking dumbfounded

Candi: “OH! Chipotle!!!”

...Like the restaurant.

Yes, its likely the adorable co-ed behind the counter has never been outside of Wyoming. Its also very likely Laramie is the largest “city” she has ever been in. My first instinct was to feel bad for her, she doesn’t even know what a chain pseudo-Mexican fast food restaurant is. Then I realized… she’s lucky! She doesn’t know what a chain pseudo-Mexican fast food restaurant is. This Wyo co-ed has yet to be sucked in by mass marketing and community homogenization.

Wyoming is quite a unique place. I think those little things are going to be what I miss most as I'm preparing to move back to Salt Lake City.

My New Career as a Blogger (a.k.a. yes, I’m avoiding my dissertation)

Growing up, I always thought I would be a writer. I loved writing. I loved reading. I loved reading so much as an adolescent that I spent an entire week in the backseat during a family road trip consuming novel after novel. I read seven books that week and missed the Northern California coast, the state of Oregon entirely, and the Space Needle. My parents still give me crap about it today.

So five years into my clinical psychology PhD program (and nearly done!), I think, “Man, I should give it shot, at least write something” (not APA Style, of course).

How I ended up in a PhD program? I don’t know. I remember graduating from the University of Utah with bachelor’s degrees in psych and women’s studies, thinking, “Wow, I’m not ready to get a real job. I don’t even know what I would do…In fact, I don’t think I’m qualified to do anything…” The last part was true.

So I applied to graduate school. Mistake? Some days I think so. Other days I don’t. I think I will really decide after its official and those letters are behind my name. I do know that I am too tired to do it again if I had the chance. And I actively try to talk people into more useful careers such as accounting, engineering, and public health.

Today, I’m going to try to balance both. Finish my dissertation (speaking of, I should get back to that…) and start writing to see what comes out.