Caterwauling

1. I still haven’t heard the final word from the new apartment complex that I am to move into, like, SOON.

2. I scheduled movers anyway.

3. My nephew looks exactly like the baby in the Quiznos commercials. That or Charlie Brown. I am ga-ga over this kid. Happiest baby on the planet. I fed him and put him to sleep. C’mon, say it with me …. “Awwwww. …”

4. My niece is the reason I have been hit on six times in the past two days. I seriously have never had more men approach me to say hello in my life. I might need to borrow her more often! OMG, who could resist this face?

5. I had no idea I was capable of leaving a restaurant in less than 40 seconds with a half-eaten meal on the table and three purses on my left shoulder, a calm infant in my left arm (who was gnawing on a string bean with his two bottom teeth), a carseat in my right hand and four teething rings suspended from various fingers. But boy did I find out!

6. Mothers and grandmothers of small children have no idea where their purses are or that you dived under a table with kid, carseat and other crap in hand to get lost toys and purses. All they care about is booking when the toddler they just awakened to have some dinner is not happy about being awakened and is hellbent on having the world know it. However, when you mention to them while you’re hightailing it on the highway that you have their purses, they will say, “Awesome! Who wants to go shopping?” And then we hit the Kohl’s night sale, since it was right there. I’m certain the meal got paid for. But even I’m not clear how.

6.a. Said toddler, by the way, ran back into the restaurant and climbed back into her booster chair to finish the food that was in front of her after all of that. It was the only plate that hadn’t been cleared, ironically, in the fast departure.

6.b. I will be scheduling an appointment to get my tubes tied into a freaking Hallmark-quality bow at my earliest convenience!

7. I have, however, never been happier or more energized in my life.

So I suppose it’s time I introduce you to the new man in my life …

Read the rest of this entry »

There are days when you feel as though the world is sucking out your soul through a coffee stirrer jammed into your jugular, and then there are days when all finally feels right. Today? Is the latter.

I’m on my way to see my friend (finally!). We just got off the phone. Normally, when she’s on the phone, her little girl will squeal, “Talk Aunt Dawn!” and we will talk and she will tell me she loves me and then she’ll kiss and lick the phone. Ew. But today, she took a nap here on the same coast and in the same city as me, and when she awakened, she said, “See Aunt Dawn!” And I got the call to come visit. Which, squee!

I have a doll for Alex that’s as big as she is. I wasn’t sure what to get for Jordan, so I settled on a sleeper that says “I’m crawling and I can’t get up.” Stupid, yes, but he’s outgrown the very cute sleeper I bought him six months ago that’s still wrapped in Sesame Street paper and sitting in my desk drawer. Mom says that can go in my hopeless chest, although she’s worried that with me being around a toddler and an infant, her dreams of grandmotherhood will be shot in half an hour. And she’s probably right.

Anyway, I could tell when Shan’s plane landed. The air felt different. Even though I’ve been sort of inaccessible since then (Tuesday night), I’ve still felt better because we’re finally in the same city again, even if only for a few days.

It’s cruel how the universe has placed me in a city that’s not-convenient to my family (although I might argue that it’s just far enough away for me) and insanely far from my friend — she’s like the sister I never had. (Incidentally, I do have a half-sister with the same name, but I’ve never met her and don’t need her.) Shan’s the sister I was meant to have, and while I get frustrated not seeing her as often as I want to, I’d be a hell of a lot worse off if we’d never met at all.

And tonight, it feels amazing to go not only see people I’m dying to see, but who are equally thrilled to be in the same room with me. This is what I’ve missed most, living on my own in D.C. Having a family or something close to it, having people around whom I can drop that ever-present guard of barbed wire and electric fence.

A number of you have written to me and asked about my new apartment complex — why I had to be in that particular one. Why I didn’t look around more and compare amenities and prices and even neighborhoods. It’s because the place has a concierge — a freaking activities director. Because they organize social events and outings and dinners and parties and all kinds of stuff I don’t get to do due to time/effort/will to live constraints. I’ll have that time again. I’ll have that spark again. And I will hopefully be able to network and light up again instead of only knowing the difference between each day by what’s on television that particular night.

Anyway.

I’m off to have the best night that I’ve had in a looooonnng time!

“We shouldn’t be mad at Chef for leaving us. We should be mad at that fruity little club for scrambling his brains.”

“South Park” premiered last night and killed off Chef. I heard Issac Hayes’s voice (and spliced-together speeches) and wondered if he’d reconsidered his decision to leave because the show made fun of Scientology, but per the article, it was a voice track. And it completely rocked. Thank you, “South Park,” for always standing by your convictions of ridiculing everyone equally, and equally funny. Fruity little club that molests children. Heh.

I have to laugh that people are threatening to boycott Tom Cruise’s “MI: 3″ if Comedy Central can’t re-air the episode where Cruise was “Trapped in the Closet” (the episode that pissed off Hayes and his widdle iddy biddy feelings). Honey, I’m boycotting it ANYWAY. I have a feeling I would have enjoyed “War of the Worlds” much better if that nutjob Cruise wasn’t in it. It’s time for all the crazy cult members to just get on their damn spaceship and fly away already, IMHO. Either that or learn to TAKE a joke and not always BE one!!!

Dippity Dubya is on TV right now, answering the questions of civilians and military families in West Virginia. I am slightly riveted as I don’t normally work among inarticulate people, so it’s been interesting hearing a non-Grammar Nazi ramble at length about nothing at all.

Someone just mentioned that they pray for him, and he went on a five-minute tangent about how he loves being president because everybody’s praying for him. Dude, let’s get the record straight. We’re praying for you to NOT FUCK UP any more than you already have.

We’re praying for good sense to enter into your head when you’re making the magnanimous decisions that your successors are going to have to live with and/or undo. We’re on our knees begging for our troops to come home safely and not in the cargo section of trans-Atlantic flights where they will be buried in Arlington Cemetery, where I’ve witnessed a burial EVERY GODDAMNED MORNING except Sunday, when I only saw mourners on their knees laying flowers on the graves of their loved ones.

Even the atheists and the pagans are turning to their Higher Powers and just asking for the mercy of the powerful over those who are powerless.

My point here? Don’t flatter yourself. We’re praying to thrive — that’s all we’re doing here. It sure beats Becoming Republican!

Mandisa — or Mandiva, as the signs read — knocked off my bobby socks during tonight’s flashback to the 1950s with “I Don’t Hurt Anymore.” She went somewhere deep inside to a place only she can see with this one, but hot damn, we FELT her in that place. I love, love, LOVE her. She was great. And I so totally have the same shoes she’s wearing tonight, which she says are comfortable but I must beg to differ. She gets my vote based on wearing those acrylic shoes and still sounding like an angel.

Bucky — “Oh Boy” indeed! I love me some Bucky, BUT … enh. I felt like he couldn’t find his groove. Only Simon hated it, calling it a “pointless” performance. I disagree fundamentally, but this wasn’t his best. I hope he can recover and come back next week. The boy’s at least unique, and while I won’t be voting for him, he’s entertaining, and that’s more than I can say for a lot of the others.

Paris — “Fever.” She’s dressed for the ’50s, with the hair all done up and with a bow in it to match her dress. Ooh, Constantine Maroulis is in the audience. (Shiny!) She’s jazzy without the jazz hands — I hate how the judges always refer to her age, but truly, she sang the song with the intonation of someone three times her age.

Chris — My boy. Doing Johnny Cash. I wish I could be doing HIM. Ahem. *cough* Anyway, “I Walk the Line” was better than Mr. Cash could have imagined it. I’m making my prediction now that Chris wins this thing this year. He rocked the fuck OUT. I like how Simon commended him for not compromising his own style. Every week, the boy takes whatever genre is forced upon him and makes it rock. I used to be like that. I used to be defiant and full of conviction. These days, it’s a victory if I slip through a day unnoticed — it meant I didn’t make any waves. I hate it, personally, but peace of mind isn’t a bad thing to have. Chris gives me back some of my old spirit every time I watch him — well, that and fantasy fodder for days. …

Katharine — “Come Rain or Come Shine.” She’s amazing, no doubt about it. But I just don’t know what grates on my nerves about her so much. The dress is much more gorgeous this week, not so much Holly Hobby with cleavage like she was last time around.

Taylor. My boy Taylor. He’s dressed the part in a blue skinny suit. I really wanted to be wowed, but I’m with Simon — the performance was kind of a mess. He danced his ass off, but the song wasn’t much of a challenge. It’s the commercial break and I already forget what it was. But I remember his smile, his enthusiasm, his vibe. He’s not going to drop off anyone’s radar anytime soon, so he’s entitled to experiment, even if it isn’t the best performance we know he can give.

Lisa. So cute. So ridiculously pretty and sweet and smart and you can just tell she leaves her heart on that stage. But maybe she just needs to spend a few days inside a Dairy Queen, because she needs to eat something. Cake. Lots and lots of cake. Ice cream cake. You’ve got Mandisa with that powerful voice and then these skinny girls who are probably too hungry to pack a punch behind their pipes. I’d like to pinch her cheeks, even though there’s nothin’ to them. Eat something, woman!

Kevin. “When I Fall in Love.” I think it’s ironic and interesting that Jasmine Trias was shown at the end of his performance. She made it pretty far through the season she was in, and none of us could figure out why. She was good, but not great. And I think that’s true of Kevin. Like tonight, he wasn’t spectacular, but probably good enough to please the people who vote for him. I didn’t like him as he tried to sing softly and all vulnerably and shit. He seemed uncertain. I couldn’t wait for it to be over. And thank goodness, now it is.

Elliott. I dozed off during his performance. And I feel bad because he can sing his ass off. But there’s something about him, like Katharine, that I just do not like and I cannot for the life of me put my finger on it. And they both have some serious pipes and control, too. They both pick the most difficult songs possible and do very well with them. But they’re both lacking that “it” factor.

Kellie — “Walking After Midnight” by Patsy Cline. Oh, she was perfect. She was back, as last week’s performance was kind of anticlimactic. I love her doing Patsy. Seriously, perfect all around. She didn’t bother dancing like every single performer has done tonight, thank god. She just strutted around, which of course was perfect with the song’s lyrics. She looked kind of vacant and distracted, but as I am feeling the very same way myself, I can forgive her. Rock on, Kellie! Actually, rock on Barry Manilow, who trained all the kids this week and did their arrangements and coached them — I’ve never heard any of them sound better.
Ace. “In the Still of the Night.” Enh, he got a haircut. Damn. My sound on my crappy fucking TV keeps going, unless it’s Comcast being a bitch, which is also entirely possible. That blue shirt brings out his eyes in a fucking hypnotic way. He’s the chameleon of the crew this year — no matter what song/genre he picks, he falls into character. Barry had him end on a falsetto type of crescendo, and it’s the best moment of the whole performance. I so want to make out with him right now! Forget all the 34 girls with signs asking Ace to marry them — I just want to dry-hump his leg, and I’d be happy. LOL.

I got “the” call from the apartment complex I’ve targeted. The holdup? My current and immediate past property management have not returned multiple calls to confirm my residence. Seriously. They said everything else is peachy keen, jellybean, and once they confirm that I have in fact paid multiple thousands of dollars to these places during the last four years, I’m good to go. In any event, they expect to give me a yes at the end of the week, so it’s a tentative yes right now. One wonders if this isn’t a sign from some higher power, but I am tired of fighting City Hall. I need to get on with my life here.

In other existential drama queen news, I spent my drive this morning thinking about someone I had the very good fortune to meet during one of my recent trips out of town. I suspected this person always existed and I was thrilled to make their acquaintance. I’ve seen/heard neither hide nor hair of said mythical creature since, which I sort of expected, but I was still awed to be in the presence of greatness. I only hope that my judgment was right about this one and I wasn’t just seeing a mirage. Time will tell, I suppose. But I miss them anyway.