You don’t get what you deserve. You get what you demand

March 20th, 2017, 12:58 PM by Goddess

Missed an opportunity to speak up.

I recognized it. I told myself not to miss it. And then I clammed up.

Thought about a wonderful lunch I had with an old D.C. friend yesterday. God how nice to connect with someone from the same background (District denizen, publishing, intellectual, political, Florida transplant).

We spoke of how publishing is dead. He’s since left the biz because he demanded more and wasn’t getting it where he wanted it from. So he got it (money) somewhere else.

I said I didn’t think I could fall out of love with it. And that’s fine. But that doesn’t mean it will stay in love with me.

If ever it even was. Especially when I demand nothing from it because it supposedly has so little left to give right now.

Happy fambly

March 13th, 2017, 2:28 PM by Goddess

I suggested a hire and we hired that person and OMG dream team.

Yes, I know. The giant meteor is on its way. But allow me to enjoy this rare moment in time of having a complete team that rocks.

Thank you, universe.

I’ll duck now …

The love of my life 

March 12th, 2017, 7:31 AM by Goddess

Is a city. 

One I left eight years ago this month. 

This WaPo love letter wasn’t by me. But it could have been.  

D.C. is one of the few places in America where a keen interest in civics isn’t mocked, it’s celebrated. You see that quirky passion when your friends cram into your rowhouse to watch debates and make a presidential bingo scorecard. You can sit down to a casual lunch and strike up a conversation about women in the military with the two-star general sitting next to you. For a girls’ night out, you might suggest lining up to listen to Madeleine Albright speak at a think tank. When your college friends reminisce about their days tailgating, you’ll remember when your friends celebrated decisions on the steps of the Supreme Court and election outcomes in Lafayette Square.

There goes the neighborhood

March 7th, 2017, 4:25 PM by Goddess

As if having an asshole who wears a taped-up Commie-red tie splitting his time between my old neighborhood and my new one weren’t enough …

The person (using that phrase loosely) who makes Steve Bannon seem like the Sultan of Sunshine in comparison to said person (and I ain’t talkin’ about Trumpy in this graf) is also moving to my hood.

Seriously, universe. You keep making me long for the dumpster fire that was 2016.

Time to enter Witness Protection … again.

Or just burn down the entire state. Whichever.

I hear the company is hosting the goodbye party after the departure. So, the universe is turning as it should.

‘The Rhodora’: urban edition

March 1st, 2017, 8:16 AM by Goddess

Been arriving at work earlier than usual to try to get stuff done before phone calls. And working at night to try to get stuff done after phone calls.

It hasn’t been going well. Working on a project for a half hour here and there is pretty much the textbook definition of wasting oodles of time.

I notice things when I’m up early. There’s a neighborhood Calico who comes to my window to say hi, but only when Mom is around. (No one else.) I have food for her in my desk. (Thanks to Mom.)

We have condos next door and she looks like someone loves her. But I will never pass up an opportunity to feed anyone or anything. (Not the least of which is myself.)

One morning this week, I noticed a single purple flower on one of our bushes. It was so beautiful, I had to stop and marvel. There wasn’t another one anywhere.

I thought I should take a photo, and figured I’d do it on my next Starbucks run.

Well I went out later and saw that one of the boys had knocked it to the ground.

So much for that.

Kind of like when Mom comes in and mops and cleans the windows and the bathroom. It only takes two hours till I want to throttle someone for disturbing the perfection.

I feel like the flower is a metaphor for something. What, I have no idea. But when I get two seconds to rub together, hopefully it will start a thought fire.