Caterwauling

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. …

It was a 15-hour workday (I can has overtiem? Even if I didn’t finish my projects?) so I’m pretty stretched for creative thought at this hour.

I saw this meme over at the lovely Lachlan’s (who just got back from Maui!) and I’m doing it wrong, but I don’t care. Blame the overtaxed brain for not following the rules of posting it for others to answer before I answer it myself.

1) Are you currently in a serious relationship?
A. bwahahahahaaaaaa

2) What was your dream growing up?
A. To work a lot, make a lot of money and retire early. One out of three ain’t bad, I guess.

3) What talent do you wish you had?
A. I have enough talents; that ain’t the problem. It’s apparently the talentless who thrive. I would thus like to be brilliant at achieving not a g.d. thing.

4) If I bought you a drink what would it be?
A. A nice, spicy bloody mary always does the trick.

5) Favorite vegetable?
A. sweet potato

6) What was the last book you read?
A. Do audiobooks count? How about “purchased but never read”? Let’s go with the “One Minute Millionaire.”

7) What zodiac sign are you?
A. The twins, or Gemini. And according to Cosmopolitan magazine, I’m in for a hot sex day on Feb. 23. The question is, will anyone be joining me?

Any tattoos and/or piercings? Explain where.
A. 3 extra holes in my head

9) Worst habit?
A. Stress eating/smoking

10) If you saw me walking down the street would you offer me a ride?
A. I’d even take you all the way to your destination!

11) What is your favorite sport?
A. Football, baybee. Go Stillers!

12) Do you have a negative or optimistic attitude?
A. My glass could always use a topping off.

13) What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me?
A. It’d be a pleasant wait till help arrived.

14) Worst thing to ever happen to you?
A. Taking a bullet in the head for the latest round of roommate roulette.

15) Tell me one weird fact about you.
A. I can’t use a top sheet on my bed. I do the comforter/coverlet thing and the fitted sheet thing but no top sheet. It’s way easier to make the bed in the morning and it’s more comfortable, too.

16) Do you have any pets?
A. The little shit monsters Maddie and Kadie

17) What if I showed up at your house unexpectedly?
A. I’d close the door behind me and we would go out on the town!

18) What was your first impression of me? (hmmm…careful!)
A. You were exactly what I had pictured … and even better, if that were at all possible.

19) Do you think clowns are cute or scary?
A. Fucking HATE clowns

20) If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be?
A. This would have to be an “Everything” with subcategories answer

21) Would you be my crime partner or my conscience?
A. Conscience

22) What color eyes do you have?
A. Green

23) Ever been arrested?
A. nope

24) Bottle or can soda?
A. a bottle of POP!!!

25) If you won $10,000 today, what would you do with it?
A. Get a passport and book a trip to Europe

27) What’s your favorite place to hang at?
A. Work (it’s the glass-half-full answer because it’s where I spend all my time anyway)

28) Do you believe in ghosts?
A. Yeppers. Good, kind spirits, though, or at least those with messages to communicate. I’m not into the poltergeist/demon phenomenon.

29) Favorite thing to do in your spare time?
A. Shop

30) Do you swear a lot?
A. Take a wild fucking guess!

31) Biggest pet peeve?
A. People who talk during movies/TV shows and make me miss stuff. I ask for precious little out of this life — a little peace is all I desire

32) In one word, how would you describe yourself?
A. Passionate

33) Do you believe/appreciate romance?
A. I’ve believed for this long — not giving up the dream anytime soon. Once I find the one who can be sexy without being sleazy, who can be confident without being full of shit, and the one who can make me feel loved and not dirty/degraded, then I’ll move from “seeker” to “believer.” I am not settling for less than I deserve.

35) Do you believe in God?
A. Usually. I talk to Him — I just don’t know if He’s a typical man who only has selective listening/retention, though.

36) Will you repost this so I can fill it out and do the same for you?
A. Aaaaaannd you see where I didn’t follow the directions!

Yeah, the big working weekend I had in store? Not so much. Which means this week is going to be like sitting on an ungreased dildo. Oh, boy, can’t wait! *thunk*

I was giving some thought to the cosmic oops that my life has become. I always thought it was best to be easygoing, to go with the proverbial flow, to just laugh at time because, really, what else can you do?

But at a time when there’s an overabundance of good people getting treated shoddily and the least-deserving types rolling in luck, you’ve got to wonder sometimes about exactly why it is that the good guys have to finish last?

I wanted to do some deep, existential post tonight. But I don’t have it in me right now. I worked so hard to get away from my life in Pittsburgh, only for it to get dumped into my lap. Goes to show that no matter how far or fast you run, no matter how hard you work to change your life, you can’t really escape.

It doesn’t mean you have to accept it, though. I’ve been too nice for too long. I suffered through too many bad dates, faked too many smiles and spared too many feelings, and I’m done. All the while, I knew that I was in a bad/useless situation, one that wasn’t going to be fulfilling to me in any way, shape or form. But I was always “nice” about it.

Anyway, I say all of this to convey that I know what I want. I have always known what I wanted, since I was a wee lass. I can seem indecisive and even enthusiastic for things that don’t or wouldn’t make me happy. But no matter how far away I seem to get from the things I wanted, the fact is that I still want them and believe I’ll either get them or some reasonable facsimile of them.

One of these days, anyway. I just hope I don’t forget what I hoped to achieve or be.

They posed the question at church this week, asking us what we wanted to be when we were 5 years old. Heh. I think I wanted to be a writer and, lo, it is so. But the point of the exercise wasn’t to find out what you wanted to be but, rather, that even when we were cared for/clothed/fed, we had the first formation of dreams in our hearts.

But then, at some point — under the pressure of paying bills and taking care of everything and everyone else — you get too busy to heed the calling that was placed in you. And that maybe, just maybe, the desires we have deep in the all-but-forgotten parts of our hearts are pretty close to what God wants for us.

Like the pastor asked, “Were we a byproduct of circumstance, or were we put here for a purpose?”

I’m struggling with my purpose. If I wanted to be a writer and I’m making a living as a writer, did I fulfill my purpose and there’s nothing more out there for me? Was I meant to work eleventy billion hours a week and have to take care of myself and my mother and, to boot, have an absolutely unremarkable string of overnight relationships that had to dissipate because, really, can I bring anyone home when my mom is in the next room? GAH.

We talked about how making too many concessions and compromises distracts us from remembering, fine-tuning and following the dreams that were designed just for us. One of the Proverbs says that “Where there is no vision, the people will perish.”

But I think we’re suffering from an abundance of visions — I like to call it “having 17 cooks in the kitchen to make a grilled cheese sandwich.” Too many cooks/visions/dreams means the dreams get diluted — it’s now a collective nightmare instead of an individual destiny.

Or maybe that’s just how it feels at this step of the journey.

I am tired of this life feeling like one big fat cosmic joke. It’s like I was conceived by accident and my life pattern of chaos and cosmic clusterfucks have taken over and washed away the footprints I’ve been trying to leave on this earth.

(Although, my carbon footprint seems to be doing just fine — so far, that seems to be the only mark I’ve managed to make, and that’s the one I’m trying to minimize!)

The message of the Sunday service was a simple, begin to dream again and then hop the fuck to it. Well, OK, that was MY interpretation, but you get the point.

I don’t think I’ve ever stopped dreaming, but I do know that I’ve stopped dreaming BIG. And I can’t remember the last time I worked on one of my books. I need to revisit that dream of writing trashy romance novels and getting paid gobs of money on the screenplays, so I can go write on beaches and be serviced served by strapping young lads bearing alcohol and suntan lotion.

Now THAT’S inspirational!