Caterwauling

My boss is Teh Awesome, originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn.

We just had a party for those of us who worked on the PFH, as Sabre lovingly calls our Project From Hell. (We missed you! You were very much with us in spirit!)

My boss presented the three key players (well, the two who were present) on the project a beautiful bouquet of roses and a very nice bottle of wine. We also enjoyed some champagne and appetizers. I even got a hug!

There are people who skate by in their jobs and make sure to do as little as possible so that they can go do whatever it is that they do. But those people aren’t hired at my company.

It was so nice to be honored — truly, appreciated — for what we were paid to do in the first place.

Once again, I know I hemmed and hawed along the way, but I knew we were going to do something great. And doing it for great people is the most-rewarding part of it all.

Cheers!

Is that a hot dog or are you happy to see Bon Jovi?, originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn.

This was the best pic I got at the Daughtry/Bon Jovi concert tonight, Hello, happy little hot dog.

I’ve been busier than a horny redneck on Viagra at a family reunion, and feeling just as spent.

Not much to say today. Tomorrow’s the big barn-raising in these here parts, so we’ll be patching up the roof and moving in the last of the accent furniture today … before we redecorate. Actually, it’s more of building additions after this, so basically we’re making more room at the inn. Heh, I am officially in charge of a growing empire. It’s mind-boggling, when you step back and look at what we’ve done and what we’re *going* to do.

Scot said something so poignant on his blog the other day, I’ve been holding on to it and repeating it to myself like a mantra, a wish, a spell, a sign of renewed hope:

“If you don’t let go of what is in your hand, you can never pick up something new.”

I wrote an incarnation of it on the whiteboard in my office, as that has become my temple, my place to reunite with myself. There’s no crying in baseball, and there’s no pessimism or falling apart on company time (and much of your own) because it will be witnessed and not forgotten. But the statement applies so much more broadly to life, although I’d be wont to pass it on to someone who is new to supervising folks any day.

In any event, the statement reminds me that we are but the pointers on the Ouija board of life, and we can go to where the sitter wants us to be (and say what they want to hear) or else we can gravitate to where we’re drawn. Personally, I am more in the phase of gravitating AWAY from where I’ve been drawn. Because there’s a whole alphabet out there with words waiting to be spelled, and I’ve been camped on the big ol’ “NO” for way too long.

One more thought before I go, as all original thought is being channeled into non-volunteer projects:

“What you think about, you bring about.” ~ Flylady

I’m thinking about Jon Bon Jovi, then. …

OK, one last thought, because this quote is too good to let go: “Is there an emoticon for bitch-slap?” (Anonymous)

*bwahahaa* NO COMMENT!!!

Drove to Alexandria for the AMC Oscar Showcase yesterday and all I can say is, wow, does my ass hurt. Next year, note to self: Buy one of those foam seat donuts because, even though the allure of watching five back-to-back movies means not having to come up with any real conversation for the day, it also means you will be seated for the duration.

I was under the impression that there would be a dinner break or, at least, more than five minutes between the closing credits of one show and the preview roll of the next film. No big deal, but really, you had several hundred people subsisting on free popcorn, lots of soda and whatever concessions (mmm, Reese’s Pieces) are your particular poison.

In any event, yay for a nice day, double-yay for catching up with my friends between films, and boo-hiss to the asshole next to me who insisted on filling up my cupholder with her garbage (and not getting up to throw it away), as my cups kept getting kicked in its little place on the floor as people kept coming and going to the bathroom. *slap*

It was a nice day to get cultured, as many of the movies nominated for tonight’s “Best Picture” award would never normally make it to my “must-see” list. So for the first time, I’ll be able to root for my favorite and be able to compare apples to apples.

So, the movie reviews? I haz ‘em. In order viewed:

Michael Clayton — I could not stop staring at George Clooney’s lips. I could ride those to glory. :9 Oh, wait, I was supposed to review the film, yes? All right, it was an excellent surprise. I wasn’t attracted to it in the previews, but anything this man touches, turns to magic. He was a star litigator who has spent 17 years with a firm as its “janitor” — the clean-up boy for everybody else’s messes. I think this could be the universal pick for best flick because the story has a lovely twist at the end. Plus, it’s one of the rare stories that you immerse yourself in and, when it’s over, you feel like you need a cigarette — it’s that satisfying!

There Will be Blood — I don’t even know where to begin with this one. Daniel Day-Lewis was fantastic (and sort of hot, in a cowboy-turned-oilman sort of way, but that conjures up images of our president and now I’m squicked out. Ew.) as Daniel Plainview, who takes residents of small towns brimming with oil for a ride in the early 1900s. Tiff wondered aloud where Paul Dano’s Oscar nod was, because his role as the wise Paul and also the Bible-thumping Eli was creepily memorable. It had one of those, “Mmmmkay?” endings, because it was downright weird but at least you understood it.

Atonement — I knew this one was going to be dark, but I was ready to slit MY wrists at the end. The scenery was absolutely amazing — from the fields and rivers and flowers to the war-torn streets of England and France during World War II. The music was just as beautiful and heart-wrenching as the backdrop. Briony Tallis purposely, incorrectly, identifies her sister’s suitor as her cousin’s attacker, and we see how one little white lie goes on to destroy every life it ever touched. And in the end, the only happy moment? Was a lie. An absolute lie. And the only one of them who went on to live a long, fulfilling life? Was Briony. *thunk*

Juno — This one gets my vote for the Oscar, probably because it kept me from killing myself yesterday from these abysmally dark movies. Plus, it’s the genre I love most, so I am biased. Ellen Page is awesome — she’s someone you would want to hang out with as “Juno,” a sweetly cocky knocked-up 16-year-old whose heart is pure and whose intentions are never anything but good. I may have to do a full writeup on this one but I will say this: My heart broke with her love for the baby daddy (”Bleeker”) — it’s one thing to not be with him, but it’s another to see him going after other girls when you’re right there, wishing for him all along and he either doesn’t have a clue (in Bleeker’s case) or doesn’t WANT to have a clue. Anywhoo, Tiff and I cried at the end, so that’s my definition of an awesome movie.

No Country for Old Men — Not only were my friends and I mystified by the ending (and not in a good way), but women STOPPED ME IN THE BATHROOM to see what I made of the “resolution.” Oh my God, Tom was right when he said that we couldn’t have seen that movie earlier in the showcase because we wouldn’t have been able to stop thinking long enough to enjoy the other movies. The moment it ended, I said, “I can haz new ending, yes?” There was money, drugs and murder — lots of murder, in cold blood and no signs of this killer ever being caught. Tommy Lee Jones was awesome, as was Josh Brolin. And honestly, I was more scared of Javier Bardem’s bob haircut than I was of his taste for homicide. I am still scratching my ass over this one, which probably makes it the clear Oscar winner because even smart people don’t understand it.

I made a post on my private blog that I desperately want to post here, but even though I can hide the body copy, the title is way too deliciously obvious to know what I’m talking about. Oh well! Everyone knows that all it takes is a few (dozen) Guinnesses to get me talking.

The super-hidden blog entry wasn’t about work, but what the hell — it’s 11 p.m. and I’m home, so I can talk about it now. I feel bad that I’m sort of on-edge lately because I’m under enough pressure that, if I ate a hunk of coal, I could totally crap out a diamond.

But even though the list of details — and the meetings to ask how I’m coming along with those details, which are painful because I’d rather be attending to those outstanding details than reporting how I don’t have time to WORK on them because we’re always meeting about them! — is seemingly endless, the truth is? We are building something absolutely amazing.

And I love having this purpose, this drive, this reason for getting out of bed in the morning. Sabre did 95% of the developing and I did 95% of the writing, and holy crap, we’re going to blow people’s minds when this thing is unveiled. And like she said, this project is going to rock and everyone is going to be pleased, even if it kills us in the interim.

I love this time, when you’re certain you’re working on something special. I love being “good” exhausted and I love knowing that, when Phase I of building this skyscraper is done (there are MANY more phases ahead, but the “hard part” is almost done), we will have something significant to show for it.

And really, it’s times like this when you realize your life has been leading you to this moment. I mean, I don’t think I was put on this earth to build this particular skyscraper or anything, but I want to give a glorious FUCK YOU to my prior employer for being so embarrassed of me as a blogger and Web-savvy person — so much so that I quit my job before their snail-slow asses could get around to firing me because I had a mind and skills I wasn’t afraid to use … that they were TERRIFIED of me using.

I am the proud owner of the most-complex site (not this one, obviously!), and highest-ranked by search engine optimization functionality, across our massive universe. And I get to write/blog all the damn time. And my hobbies that have become skills? Are paying my billz.

Suck on that, bitches at the Veggie Patch. May you all rot in hell. *bends over* Kisses! *mwah* Fuckers.

What’s awesome is that, when the success of my project is discussed, my name is always, ALWAYS mentioned. You can’t beat that, yo.

My car was the last one out of the parking lot four days out of five this week. And Monday was a holiday, but I was still there. I sort of cracked on Thursday night, but I’m back, baybee.

So, yeah, a lot of bullshit happens across my life, and I want to kick people in the ‘nads who say that it happens — say it with me — “for a reason.” But days like today, when I’m pre-emptively apologizing to people for being a bitch because my nerves are shot and I am feeling like the kid who didn’t finish her homework even though she studied all night, I can remind myself that I’ve come very far in life.

And I ain’t anywhere done yet. Not even close.

I can’t wait to see the miracles that are left in me, and in Sabre, too. You put two Goddesses on a project and the results are downright divine!!!

I will sleep well tonight. And tomorrow, movies!

It’s good to be me.

Hillary Clinton parody video (”Obama Is a Cyborg From the Future Sent To Destroy Us All!”) seen on Slate. View below or click here if you’re seeing this in your feedreader.

First chance I’ve had to sit at my desk today and get to the work everyone’s been asking for (thatI haven’t been at my desk to DO!), and I am taking a blog break as purely a sanity-preservation activity.

So anyway, I was up all night BUT I got to sleep between 7 a.m. and 7:30 a.m. And it just goes to show that work is not only taking over my life, but also my dreamtime as well, because work interrupted my damn REM cycle.

I was having a very X-rated, hot-and-heavy dream during that brief half-hour of slumber. Since I mentioned Giggle Noodle Soup in my last entry, I can say that my dream? Was m’mm goooodddd.

I was having a hell of a lot of fun. Let’s say I was in charge and showing my dream partner — who was in fact a colleague but I’m keeping THAT bit of information to myself but, whoa, talk about looking at people differently in the morning! *blush*

Ahem, ANYWAY.

So, I was showing someone just exactly HOW to please me and in the dream, my phone rang. And since I was on top anyway, I picked up the phone and saw it was my boss calling. (So, we all know it wasn’t HIM!)

So I answered the call, and my boss said — I shit you not, “You’d better wake up because it’s time to do your morning project!”

I shook myself awake, looked at the clock and DAMN, it WAS time for the morning project! Jesus H., how the hell does one pull off THAT kind of rude awakening so beautifully?

I am physically, emotionally and spiritually drained, and all I wanted was some damn sleep. Well, at 3 a.m., Kadie started raising hell. And here it is, 4:30, and I cannot fall back into slumber to save my life. Which means, impaired blogging!

(I think “impaired blogging” should be a legal defense, because work is on my mind and work is what I shall blog about if it means I can clear my head and return to a reasonably normal state of functioning.)

I had one of my infamous “yam fits” yesterday, in which I started laughing and Just. Couldn’t. Stop. Everyone fears my nervous breakdowns, but I think I’ve proven time and again that I am harmless. Me going off the deep end entails me breaking out into hysterical giggles. That’s it. I’ve watched, and taken the brunt of, miserable meltdowns — at least mine are entertaining.

All I was doing was stalking another colleague online when that colleague walked into my office and I had to show him something on my computer. (And by stalking, I just mean that I heard they have their own side business, and I was looking it up. Nothing creepy like finding their X-rated blog or anything like that. *squick*)

Anyway, they were long gone when I realized, oh yeah, they probably noticed what I was doing when they arrived, and it set me drowning in the Giggle Noodle Soup. (Does Lipton even make that anymore or am I showing my age?)

I admit it, I’m ever-so-tightly wound right now. Do yourself a BIG favor and NEVER EVER NEVER say the phrase in my presence, “How do I write that down?” I’ve heard it enough times to last me forever, kthxbai. Because, to borrow a phrase, I will poke a hole in that blow-up doll and watch it FLY around the room. *zoom*

I was also, to a lesser degree, scratching my head over the Helpful Horvath syndrome. Since I’m all about coining useless phrases on this blog, the Helpful Horvaths of the world will point out to you the obvious — that you have a stain on your shirt or you’ve stepped in mud or have a big flaming zit on your head — basically that they are proud of their own observation skills but YOU are the one who has to deal with what the problem is.

And all I have to say about that is that if you don’t know how to use all the forks when you’re invited to a nice dinner, then maybe you should quietly observe and follow everyone else’s lead instead of stabbing someone else in the temple. Especially if you were told to save that fork for dessert. Just sayin’.

Anyway, I’d rather focus on the good, because there is WAY more of that than anything else. Specifically, there was a touching moment yesterday when I was trying to tell Sabre to take a blog break or not to drive herself too crazy over the latest “Thing” that arose that her perfectionist self was going to kick ass at because that’s how she’s wired, even though it wasn’t supposed to be her burden at this juncture.

I told her not to lose her sanity and what’s left of her free time over this, and she picked up her phone and said, “Hello, Kettle? This is Pot. You’re black.”

*bwahahahaaaaa*

Guilty as charged of being another perfectionist in overdrive. (I can has social life? I can has night off? I can has full night’s restful sleep?)

Speaking of rest, it’s 5 a.m. Try to get an hour of sleep, or scrub butt and get an early start on the to-do list? Decisions, decisions. …