Caterwauling

Tree at Il Bellagio, CityPlace

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Had such a good weekend. Still have some work to do but wow did I enjoy the last four days.

A friend was in town and it was so good to hang with someone in my field … someone who knew me way back when. We joined our last place of employment at the same time, and whoda thunk it that we’d still be friends so many years later when we’ve both taken very separate paths away from it.

It was good to reminisce and look ahead and just plain be in the moment, too. I got to meet a lot of cool people as well, and that’s all it really takes for me to be on top of the world.

I’ve been restless because I haven’t traveled in months. I’ve been frustrated because life keeps giving me lemons that are too spoiled with which to make lemonade. I’ve been aimless and rudderless, forever wondering about the paths not taken.

And to hang with someone who also goes wherever the wind blows her, knowing with full confidence that the universe will take good care of her, I was reminded of when I was that way and that, really, that’s the way I still am and will always be.

I realized in a big way that I’d be miserable if I were still in D.C., spending another year in the hamster wheel. I would be cursing the cold, the motorists, the shared apartment with Mom. I guess I miss the routine of it all more than anything. And I hate routines!

I guess my struggles with identity don’t serve to make life any easier. But when I break it down into what I like, I can more-easily identify what I want.

What I Like:

Florida, if you can believe it.
The beach.
The fake snow that my favorite haunt (pictured) is generating next weekend.
The freedom to write my own ticket, if I’d only just pick up the pen and start scribbling.

What I Want:

To say goodbye to editorial.
To market, to market.
To “get out” in my field more and talk to the people I admire and, like, learn stuff from them directly.
To reconnect with people in my field who give me that “oomph” — those who remind me that my niche market is super-cool and not only am I lucky to be part of it, but I’m pretty much a rising rock star in my own right.

I think — nay, I know — I’ve been worried that I’m losing my mojo. I went from rising star to plateaued pudge muffin. I felt like I got downgraded from planet to dwarf planet. I’ve been feeling like fucking Pluto.

And it’s pretty hard to figure out who you want to be when you have no blessed idea of who you’ve become … and all you can cling to is who you were because everybody said that person was pretty special and it’s easy to miss the time and place where that specialness reigned supreme.

I don’t have any brilliant “next steps” in mind right now, but it’s been exhausting and yet strangely exhilarating to retrace my steps with my friend and get me back to where the roads diverged and my mentality careened into a ditch.

It was good to talk to people who had heard of me and who needed to hear about me. It really made me see that my place in this world is as memorable and remarkable as I make it.

I’m so very ready to try new things and bring along the best of the old. I’ve been feeling very done with this world (not in a suicidal sense, just in the sense that I’ve done enough and I’m tired and could stand to get my strength back). But this world is far from done with me, and I can either park my feet in the wet sand and not budge, or I can parasail to my next level.

Look out, world — I don’t know where I’m going next, but unless you’re helping me along, you’d better step out of the way and watch me fly. …

I had a very vivid dream last night in which I had an in-depth conversation with someone who has something to say to me.

Confidential to that person: I’m ready to have that discussion whenever you are.

Ever since Cinderella freed herself from the castle, let’s just say, “Watch out, world.”

I did a wild and crazy thing today and bought Bon Jovi tickets. For April. It’s funny — I can barely get through days or even hours, let alone plan something six months from now.

They’re good tickets, too. Not great ones, but I’ve had it with Peanut Heaven. I consider it an investment in NOT flirting with vertigo.

How weird to be thinking ahead again. I didn’t realize how far down the rabbit hole I’d gone till I fretted over pushing the order button on Ticketmaster because, wow, I’m going to still be here? (I don’t mean alive — just in Florida, although “alive” and “Florida” don’t really belong in the same sentence, when you think about it.)

Nothing like a little progress to get a real look at how much you’ve allowed yourself to regress.

I snuck into a conference for a couple hours today. Well, I’d hardly call it “sneaking in” when I was a personally invited guest, but it was definitely “sneaking out” to go see what else was happening in the world.

And wow, was it cool to talk to people furthering their part-time passions with full-time gusto … other crazy writers who are making it (or who think they can make it) in this world, when meanwhile “everyone” tells me what a goldmine of talent I’m sitting on, totally wasting because I’m not using that very same talent to make a quarter-million dollars a year in my “free” time.

I dunno. I guess for as much of a “writer” as I’ve always considered myself, I’ve always used it as a support for other pursuits. I never thought much about trying to make a living as a writer. I always figured it would be a part-time pursuit, or a later-in-life hobby, or maybe even a second eighth career when I’ve mastered the other interests that currently dance through my head.

It’s too bad that you only get asked when you’re 17 years old, what you want to be when you grow up. It’s a question worth pursuing at least annually … we should be doing inventories of our skills and interests on a very regular basis. A lot of us find we’re really good at certain things and that we can build careers from them, but what did you want to be when you were little? What did people talk you out of doing? What wasn’t possible back when we were twee (like working with computers) that we can incorporate into those dreams we had when it was just us and our imaginary friends? What did we like doing but left behind because we forgot or because we moved on to something else but never truly lost our passion for and would do again in a heartbeat?

These are the questions I ask myself daily. What do we unintentionally give up in exchange for what we (un)intentionally pick up? And how can we have it all … and why shouldn’t we, if that’s what we want?

Not only hanging out with an old friend in this social oasis, but talking business and gossip with other industry folk? Lit my little fire last night.

I’m not claiming that I’m not a social retard (I am. I confess) but just being “out there” again is better than anything a doctor can prescribe.

Cheers to feeling more like myself than I have in a long time. Who needs artificial stimulation when it’s your mojo that went MIA?

Got mah drugs today. Only tried one of the ‘scripts so far. Either it kicked right in (unlikely) or I’m just in a good mood naturally, because I’m doing OK today.

Actually, that’s more of an external factor, as a friend just arrived in town (the fifth this summer, although only the second with whom I can actually find time to get together). I’m over-the-top thrilled that I will actually be able to see her!

Two out of five. Actual encounters versus opportunities. What a winning record. What am I, the Phillies?

(Philadelphia is now on my list of cities to root against. Unless they are playing Texas or New England.)

Anyway, as I dropped off my prescriptions this morning, the pharmacist called my doctor’s office to verify one of the meds. I only half-overheard, as I saw Halloween candy was 75% off and I scored a big bag of Reese’s for less than two bucks.

But I could SWEAR she was verifying a dosage she thought was high. What, did she think I upped that dosage on my own?

Now excuse me while I wash it all down with a bottle of wine.