Tuesday, April 13, 2010


So I am now, officially, a transparent. I even have a certificate.

I am transparent. Diaphanous. Ghostly. Mysterious.

It's really funny to show up for your transparenting class, and realize that one of the teachers is someone you know very well. I went to college with him - was best friends with his two-year girlfriend, the one that pre-dated his current wife. They have two beautiful kids.

I was kind of excited, because I talked to him at a Christmas party and a February wedding shower. He is hilarious - his dry wit adequately fills the void in social and professional venues. He was a little embarrassed to see me in the crowd. "I know someone. I might get nervous." Whatever.

He was distinctly nervous at the break when I was talking to his therapist partner. They made a great combo - performing role plays and doling out advice to divorcing singles in an equally engaging and entertaining forum. Lots of good tips. I highly recommend. He worried I would oust his college day antics.

I consoled him. "College? Too much alcohol? Is there a limit for that, in college?"

He laughed, and it made me remember a moment. I was changing a light bulb in a dorm, perched high upon a stool. Don't recall whose room it was, or why I was doing the maintenance. It was just me and him.

He asked, "Why are you always humming? It's like you have a constant song going around in your head. You are always humming."

I didn't even notice I was humming.

Tips for transparenting class:

1. Bring food. They only have pretzels, bad coffee, water, and stale cookies. It is scheduled from 5:30-9:30 - so you need to be nutritionally prepared.

2. Bring a coat. The temperature alternates every 20 minutes - you are either freezing or breaking out in a sweat.

3. Volunteer for the second-to-last act in the play - male role-playing with the female therapist. It cuts the entire evening by 1.5 hours, if they get volunteers.

4. Participate, but don't overdo it. They don't want "your story." They just want intelligent questions. And they have been doing this for years, so they have great answers.

I drove back to my house across the Broadway Bridge (beautiful) at night. Couldn't believe that I had a transparenting certificate in my passenger seat. Life is definitely mysterious. Diaphanous. Transparent. Ghostly.