In The Future, We’ll All Be Wearing Granny Panties

As you may remember, we’ve moved back to Denver, where the cost of living is higher and psychologists are a dime-a-dozen, so my caseload is smaller and my net income is lower. There are all manner of shrinks panhandling on streetcorners for patients, hawking their wares like carnival barkers: “Chakras! Get yer chakras buffed here!” and “We’ll process your family-of-origin issues for 50% less than the other gal”. It’s cutthroat. But it’s okay, because it keeps me sharp as well as grateful for what I got. Which brings me to my majestic point.
We’re in a recession. For anyone who has ever spent more than 2 years in grad school, this is pretty much more of same. I spent ages 22-30 as a very po person in my very own personal recession. How did I survive?
1. I ate cheap. I don’t mean I ate Ramen noodles all the time (although my internal organs are now pretty much made of MSG). I almost always brought my lunch or dinner to school or work. I bought in bulk whenever possible, used coupons, and rarely bought brand-name anything. I cooked in large batches and froze what I could. I didn’t usually buy vending machine food because of the giant markup. Well, and because I needed those quarters for laundry.
2. I lived sans student loans for the 1st 3 years. I didn’t own a credit card until my 3rd year, and even then I only used it for larger purchases like airline tickets, car rentals, and conference registrations. Unfortunately I forgot to pay it off for like 5 years, but that’s another story.
3. I walked a lot, even when I could have driven.
4. Socializing often consisted of inviting friends over to watch TV like X-Files, Millenium, etc. Sometimes we’d potluck, sometimes someone would cook. It was very simple but a lot of fun. We shared our VCR tapes with each other, sort of like a flintstonesey version of Netflix.
5. My friends and I would do a lot of lowbrow stuff; farmers’ markets, street fairs, garage sales, auctions, country festivals, etc. We went to local bars to hear bands, rarely to large venues. Sometimes we’d just wander out to a nearby state park and drive around, admiring the scenery. We bowled. We went to the $2 cinema. We took walks in the old Victorian parts of town. It was decidedly low-key, and admittedly by some folks’ standards probably a bit boring. But the point wasn’t to be part of some hip urban scenester thingy, it was to enjoy each others’ company and to experience a break from the strain of research, practicum, exams, jobs. And to get stinking drunk.
6. I bought a lot of my furniture used, except for my mattress and box spring. Dr. Ding does not sleep on dried-up pee. I went to garage sales and hauled bookcases home in the back of my verysmall Nissan. I spray-painted ugly crap to make it look like new and spiffy crap. I draped Xmas lights over lots of stuff. Worked.
7. Bartering. This was pretty informal; help setting up a garage sale for a homemade pizza dinner, or a pair of inline skates for a sewing table. Sometimes my girlfriends and I would do clothing exchanges, complete w/accessories. Note: always wear deodorant when attending one of these. Trust.
8. For clothes, I shopped the clearance racks almost exclusively, and would time big purchases like winter coats or interview suits for those big semi-annual blowout department store sales. I bought a lot of my wardrobe staples at Target and Wal-Mart, basics like t-shirts, turtlenecks, sweats, hose, socks and undies where it didn’t make much difference in terms of quality. I repaired my own hemlines, buttons, and cuffs. I was like some kind of goddamned Laura Ingalls Motherfuckin Wilder, I was.
9. My friends and I would plan our trips and vacations super-carefully. Since a lot of this was pre-internet, we used AAA and Rand-McNally road atlases to compute lodging, mileage and fuel costs. We usually tried to overbudget so that there wouldn’t be any surprises. We bought cheapo package deals to Vegas, went camping, did some 3-day weekends to attend music festivals, ren faires, museum trips, etc. And we still had fun.
Despite my cheapy cheapenheimer tendencies, there have always been a few things I would gladly pay full price for, even back then. Feel free to add your own in the comments, because frankly I haven’t blogged in awhile and my fingers are getting tired.
1. Bras. Oh sweet GirlJesus™ yes. I always would try to find good ones at discount joints like Marshalls first, but it never really bothered me to buy these at regular retail. My brands: Olga, Victoria’s Secret, Le Mystère, Glamorise. Good support makes even inexpensive or poorly-tailored clothes look good.
2. Shoes. Horrid foot problems run in my family. <– Did you see what I just did there? So, I spend $$ on shoes in order to forestall the day when I will be wearing velcroed gastropod orthopedic “comfort oxfords”.
3. Eyeglasses. Because eyeballs are important.
4. Perfume. Because I’m old school like that.
5. Twice-yearly haircut. You can’t fake a really good haircut. I had long hair back then, so I would trim it up and color it myself to keep costs down, but once per semester I’d spring for a professional haircut to prevent me from looking like the Bay City Rollers.
That’s what Dr. Ding gots for ya, as far as surviving this here recession, people. Until next time, I’ll see ya at Wal-Mart, where I’ll be in the underwear aisle pondering the merits of cotton granny panties.
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
World’s Oldest Living Irish-Luxembourger Chola, At Your Service

So I’m out walking Pooperella just now, and a minivanful of what I’m assuming might have been Japanese tourists slows to a crawl as they approach me, your formidable HBIC of this here blog. Pooperella is checking her p-mail or some goddamned Dog Whisperer thing I know nothing about when several of the tourists start pointing and gesturing at me excitedly. I gave them the side-eye and kept on hustlin’. I am pretty sure at least one of them took my picture, because some flashes went off right before they peeled out.
When I got back inside I asked The Beyoncé what the dealio was, and he took a look at me and suggested that maybe the tourists were impressed with my overall chola look. Puzzled, I eventually after a couple hours of napping ran pell-mell to the bathroom mirror and was forced to concede that indeed I looked like an Irish-Luxembourger-American who could possibly have a straight razor up in her Winehouse. Or who could punch your lights out using only the force of her Irish Catholic guiltfu*. Or who could whip up two gallons of wax bean soup in under an hour and serve it to you with a ridiculous French accent.

I definitely looked like I might cut a bitch, and apparently this completely escaped me when I did my a.m. mirror check. So I decided to have The Beyoncé commemorate my normal weekend look this auspicious occasion. I have no idea if this is what a 40 year-old chubby shrink is supposed to look like, but this is what we’re workin’ with. Good thing those tourists got their photos before I had to pull a strap.
*Just like kungfu only guiltier.
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
Somebody Buy Me This
Oh my gentle GirlJesus™. I found this gem over at List of The Day. I want!
What’s not to love? Purple-haired aliens, mesh manboob shirts, and supergroovy space vehicles. I immediately put it at the top of my Netflix queue. If this is wrong, then I don’t want to be right.
And while I’m on the subject of cinéma vérité, when are you bitchez going to pony up and buy me Killer Drag Queens on Dope like I demanded asked so nicely? Chop chop.
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
Social(Media)Life™ Part Une: The Assless Chaps Years
Dear Unsuspecting Reader:
Dr. Ding has some actual knowledge to lay on you. Yes. The kind of knowledge that doesn’t involve diabolical and insubordinate parlor butlers, drag queens, or silky-smooth religious blaspheming. For once.
Today we’re talking about how Dr. Ding thinks you should constantly be offering her a frosty cold beverage to live your life amidst burgeoning social media influences. After drinking two pints of Guiness and having exactly seven semi-coherent conversations with my geek posse conducting a wide variey of controlled studies examining difficulties as well as triumphs involved in navigating the web 2.0 world, I am chock-full of unsupported conclusions fresh ideas.
You know what I think?
You get to set limits on and make decisions about constructing your Social (Media) Life™. This applies to both individuals and groups.
Trust your instincts. They work online and In Real Life.
Constructing Your Social(Media)Life™
Individual Connections
You control the picture, both vertical and horizontal. If somone starts following you on Twitter and they’re following, say a shitload people and are only followed by a small fraction of that number, you do not have to follow them. Usually, that type of ratio bespeaks
- a spammer
- a famewhore doing famewhorey things
- some kind of bot
- a con artist
At least, that’s what it says to me. There are probably more benign interpretations, but I’m choosing to ignore them. I’m a clinician, amemba? Highly trained in positing a fundamental assumption of psychopathology when I skip out the door to greet the world every morning, all fresh-faced and a hey nonny-nonny ho.
You may decide that you will only follow or friend people whom you’ve met face-to-face. Know that this is a perfectly valid choice, and works really well for a lot of people who wish to limit their connections.
Group Connections
If you decide to host a purely social event but don’t want to broadcast your intentions across the intardwebs, consider sending invitations in a more private manner. You might have to resort to relatively more cumbersome or archaic forms of communication like:
- direct messaging
- text
- IM
- phonecalls
- hand-engraved cards on a silver salver
You know, the stuff we used to do before we all developed thumb calluses, RSS parasthesias and Twhirl addictions.
If you’re having trouble dealing with people with whom you first connected really well online only to later find increasingly distasteful or obnoxious in person, you’re going to have to work on the following skills:
- people-picking (see next section)
- confrontation
- graceful egress
And conversely, if you’re meeting lots of people from your social media connections and feeling shunned, you can draw one of two conclusions:
1) you’re violating some important social norms e.g. sexualizing non-sexual discussions, engaging in relentless self-obsession, interrupting, overdisclosing, overposting, unrestrained flatulence, something relating to assless chaps
or
b) it’s just not a good fit, period.
When did being a member of a social media community mean we all had to like each other anyway? And since when are we supposed to say “yes” to everything just because someone wants us to?
Don’t say yes to everyone and every opportunity to connect. Be selective about who you put into your connections as well as about how you relate.
The issue of respectfully releasing a connection that has soured will be addressed in subsequent posts in this series. Also: toxic flatus.
Trust Your Instincts
If you meet another social media user, or hell, just some kinda regular person IRL at an event, gathering, party or meetup, you do not have to “friend” them back if you get an altogether ookey vibe. You do not have to agree to connect with them in any way, shape, or form. Period.
And you do not need to apologize. This goes for everyone.
Dr. Ding has spent a lot of time with criminals as well as lowlifes (not to be confused with lowbrow art aficionados with their hotrods and Tiki parties and kick-ass Fifties wardrobes). A LOT of time. And I can tell you that there are plenty of people out there you would do well to avoid. People who give you that rolling or slightly sick feeling somewhere in your body, usually the stomach or solar plexus. People who just seem to always have an agenda, be it online or IRL.
Pay attention. Your body will often provide you with signals and intuition that your conscious mind will take far longer to process. Think of all this as an early warning system designed to protect you from danger. Learn to listen to and honor your own instincts.
This is all I’m giving you for today. I got things to do. And by this mean assless chaps.
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
My Courageous Story
Dr. Ding bitchily survived the great A/C disaster of June 17, 2008 and has received a great deal of useful information regarding quiescently frozen underwear and glitta. I have the best readers, period.
I’m not sure y’all noted it, but I’ve joined the Humor-Blogs dot com website, and you can find the nugget on the far right sidebar if you scroll down past “Top Dingers.” Better yet….if you click on it, I receive a mild electrical shock at extremely inopportune moments, like when I’m talking to patients. Go on, try it.
Okay, so maybe it’s not as Milgram-ey as all that. Maybe you click it and HumorBlogs raises my I dunno “inappropriate-yet-entertaining” rating or some pointless shit that’s sure to get me nowhere in my continued attempts at world domination.
But back to you. Y’all are terrific. If GirlJesus™ were here, she’d give all y’all a marg or five, plus extra cheese and sour cream on your nachos in honor of your blog-commenting fabulosity. We would all then have a frug contest and give each other bouffant hairstyles in order to pay homage to her. Because today…today Dr. Ding envisages GirlJesus™ looking especially Nancy-Sinatraesque. It may have been the heat earlier or it may have been my stunning gift for invoking the syncretic powers of lesser 1960s celebrities. Either way: fabulous!
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
Zzonk! Biff! Kapow!
Many thanks to @labanjohnson for bringing this to my attention. It’s a very amusing picture taken at the Caroline Collective grand opening here in our very own H-town. Can you find the shrink who thinks she’s Catwoman?
No?
Okay. Let’s try this again. Can you find the shrink who thinks she’s a very nerdy Catwoman?
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |

















