NCSPP

Northern California Society for Psychoanalytic Psychology

FROM THE EDITOR: CLEOPATRA VICTORIA, MFT

SF NYE 4U :)

'Twas the eve b4 09 and, as a connoisseur of fine fruitcake, my only concern was wriggling into my new white gown that night. (The event dress code was all black.) In our noon yoga class, the instructor, a voluptuous woman with a diamond on her left hand, coyly conferred with a student regarding NYE plans. "Yes, we're just going to stay home and make a romantic dinner. Yeah, that's what we like to do." The student, apparently equally partnered, murmured her agreement. After class, a therapist friend and I continued our sporadic holiday phone consults debating the merits of Men are from Mars, Woman are from Venus regarding male/female relationships.

That evening, I attended a very large party with loud music in SoMa. A man and I were in conversation, agreeing about optimism, looking at the glass half full, appreciating life, etc. Later, as I walked past the bar, a woman stopped me, apologized for eavesdropping, and expressed concern that she'd heard the word "suicide" mentioned several times in my discussion with the man. She explained that she was an ICU nurse at a local hospital. I told her that I was actually a psychotherapist and that the man and I had been agreeing upon a positive attitude. The nurse paused, then revealed that she had been having some difficulties with her long-term boyfriend, and asked me if I had a business card. Before moving on, she chortled and pointed at my dress. "I could tell the rebels in this crowd -- wearing white!"

Ascending the stairs, the man ahead of me stopped a descending woman in black fishnets and patent leather red boots and told her, "Your outfit is the bee's knees." The woman hesitated before interpreting his comment as a compliment, then thanked him.

After the party, we stopped in North Beach to find a late night snack. The line outside of Golden Boy Pizza was 30 deep. On the street I ran into an ex-boyfriend, who had written me a very kind, loving letter sometime after we broke up. He greeted me warmly and addressed me as "Chloe" even after I corrected him the first time. On Broadway, large groups of ETOH-enabled revelers trawled. It was 1:39 a.m., just one hour and a half into the new year. In the darkness, a male baritone boomed out in his best Valley Girl intonation: "2009...Best year EVVVVERRRR!"

Glass half full. Cheers.

Cleopatra Victoria, MFT
IMPULSE Editor