Caterwauling

I need to do some writing this weekend, as a self-preservation measure. And yet, procrastination once again gets the better of me, and I find myself falling deeper and deeper into the Wonderland otherwise known as Teh Intarwebz, seeking the inspiration that has yet to come.

I’ve had a thought toiling in my head for about 20 seconds, that who I am today is the result of who I’ve become during thousands of yesterdays.

I say this to provide myself some comfort that, for anyone who resents me because of what I’m not, well, it’s because those qualities, skills, knowledge or feelings either never arose or never registered on me enough to impact the Goddess of today. And that if you feel the need for me to be versed in any of those things, I’ve never been opposed to being taught.

I have a couple of suitors out there. And I find myself in a very strange situation. Whereas, once upon a time, if I didn’t feel it right off the bat, I’d dump the whole lot of them and keep going … now, I wonder if at my advanced (biological-clock) age, perhaps either A.) I stop being so damn picky and get to trust someone on a deeper level, or B.) can’t I just pick one from this batch? I mean, how many more opportunities are going to walk up to me with the intent of romancing me?

Desperation No. 5, in stores now!

When you’ve waited so long, the way I have — and when you’ve made a couple of really bad decisions in your day, the way I have — you get caught on this tightrope of, perhaps not insecurity, but definitely indecision. When things just don’t turn out the way you thought they would — or, if you’d just had the gift of hindsight, you would tell your younger/less-jaded self to just choose differently — it’s easier to let things happen to you.

Now, I don’t leave things up to fate — perhaps, not as often as I should — because if God is truly in control, then just keep in mind that He has a full tank of gas and your ride doesn’t slow down to a complete stop just because you’re out of Dramamine. I’d rather blame myself for action than inaction.

On the other hand, it is all those yesterdays that have made this day my today. Someone else’s yesterdays — or a choice made differently 5, 10, 15 or 20 years ago — would not have led me here.

As I always say, “Some people would kill to have my problems.”

I’m emerging from an a fallow season. The harvest isn’t here yet, but the foliage is starting to come to life again. As it happens every few years, of course. I guess my ultimate struggle with faith is the doubt that I’ll ever see paradise. Sure, I find beauty in almost everything, and appreciate it more when there’s nothing but darkness and evil to be found somewhere else. But if those beautiful moments of life that have long since passed are the best it gets, well, count me out. The struggles are too great for how small the rewards have been.

But what if…

I don’t have too many more years left for do-overs. I saw some new wrinkles yesterday and it reminded me that I’m not going to age very well, so I’d better move on to the next phase of my evolution before it’s too late.

I don’t want to pick wrong this time, if I even have to choose at all. Which I do. I know I do. I feel it in the depth of my soul that this is it. This is my moment. And all my experiences, and even the lack thereof in some other cases, have brought me here.

But I guess, before I do anything, I still wonder whether a dark-horse candidate will enter the race and when I see him, I’ll just know.

If that’s the case, I hope he comes soon. …

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

When you ask for abundance, you get it.

Note to self: DEFINE abundance before you ask for it.

I’ve got it both good and bad, so I’m not allowing myself to complain.

I’d rather have too many choices than too few.

But I also don’t want to blow a choice because I pick wrong (again).

Because you just don’t get it back, you’ve got to do it right the first time. Or, the second time, as I’m finding.

All the stars are aligning when it comes to friends and fun and boys. I guess I finally understand when people marry someone and wish they’d chosen someone else. I mean, when you can’t have them all, you go with what works for you right now.

I want it all, damn it. Why can’t I have it?

So, allow me to enjoy this brief moment where I’m not worrying about the bullshit, because the bullshit will not matter in five years from now.

And indulge me as I envision all the possibilities and, for one shining moment in my life, feel like the prettiest girl at the dance. Does our heroine pick the quarterback or the president of the math club … or the loner who’s smoking a cigarette behind the school?

Or is there a way she can have them all … and will she figure it out in time?

South for the winter

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Busy lil bee these days. I find myself not having enough time to accommodate all the work and play, which in my book is a Good Thing.

A beloved friend from D.C. (via Baltimore) moved down here and we took on the town last night. We went for a drink, we met cute boys, we had a great meal and, overall, we reveled in ocean-town life and how vastly improved it is from our Maryland motherland.

I think last night was the first time I ever referred to Florida as home. I have no doubt that it was knowing I have a friend who works down the street and also lives a few miles down on the same street I’m on.

I realized I’d simply forgotten to have fun. I suppose it’s something I have to put on my to-do list, somewhere between “write/edit this” and “publish that” and “don’t hit ’snooze’ too many times.”

But in any event, I had fun and it wasn’t even scheduled, so I will have to do more of that! So good to be reminded. …

I often talk about “God encounters” and the people I meet when I might or might not realize I need them. And last night, we were that — I think — to a wonderful guy we met at the bar who was waiting for his date to arrive.

I had invited him to lean in and order his Jameson and water, as he wasn’t getting any love from the uber-busy bartenders. We got to talking and we learned he had fought hard to get to what was about to be his second date with someone he hasn’t seen in six weeks.

He told us a funny, embarrassing little story and asked if he should break the ice with his date with that. We gave him a resounding “no” but we did enjoy it — it just wasn’t second-date material.

He had gotten there way early to check out the place (and she was running late). He seemed very nervous and almost like he doubted that the night would be a success. My god, if he weren’t meeting another woman there. … *pant* *drool*

Anyway, our table became available and my friend went to grab it. I settled at the bar and wished him luck. I told him that we’d be there for a few hours if it didn’t work out the way he hoped — we’d be glad to welcome him back. He was relieved and grateful.

It was one of those moments when I wished I had handed him my business card (is that Eau de Desperation that you smell? Yes plz!), but I was content in knowing that he needed his confidence built up, and we did exactly that.

I also told him what to order, as I am sort of a regular and I have tried everything on the menu, extensive drink menu included.

I did try to find him before we left, just to see whether she showed up and if he looked to be having a good time. The place was packed and I canvassed most of it, but they weren’t to be found.

Perhaps their table was hidden outside, behind the restaurant, as many eateries in our land will provide tables and tiki torches for miles.

In any event, we were sending David from Fort Lauderdale good vibes, and I hope he got his coveted third date. Moreover, I hope she’s really worth it, because I’ve had a hell of a time meeting “good” guys like him in this area and I hope that these rare jewels end up with someone who deserves them.

Hopefully next time, we’ll meet someone just like him, who has eyes only for us. …

Big ups to Lachlan last night for texting me (circa midnight my time) that my site got borked. Big ups also to Dreamhost for getting most of it fixed overnight. No clue what happened but I guess I will always look at a cyber issue and immediately throw the blame in one particular direction, where the source of my virtual headaches have historically stemmed. *arched eyebrow*

Speaking of history, my past has sort of come a-knocking. While it’s good to deal with Things Unspeakable from years ago (you know, the stuff people say in hushed tones around the dinner table, if they daresay anything at all), nothing like slicing the wounds open with a machete after nearly a decade to let you really feel the hurt you never allowed yourself to acknowledge in the first place.

“I’ve lost love, lived with shame
I was humbled by my fall from grace
On the steps of decision
It’s revenge or forgiveness

Halle Halle
We’re one breath away
Halle Halle
From our judgment day.”

– Bon Jovi, “Learn to Love”

Amazing the mental block you can put up — how airtight a fortress you can build. Forgetting — or, at least, consciously not remembering — doesn’t mean things didn’t happen.

More amazing, still, is that yes, someone else does remember every detail — which you admittedly had presumed otherwise. It’s easy to forget that you weren’t the only one “in it.” We have different reactions to being broken, but that doesn’t mean we’re not hurting equally.

Most amazing, that it doesn’t suck to deal with it now, better late than never, because you both have answers that the other never knew.

The key takeaway here was that I mattered. I was loved. And maybe that I don’t have to use the past tense to say either of those things.

And I will be again. We both will.

I’ve often wondered why, generally speaking, I feel like I metaphorically can’t move forward. Maybe surgically treating a hastily bandaged wound from long ago is a good place to start.

Sabre turned me on to an amazing blog last night and, in particular, a series on Terrible Bargains.

I want so desperately to digest it and come up with a coherent post of my own. And I’m sure I will post about it eventually, although I wouldn’t go out on a limb and promise it’ll be coherent.

The terrible bargains we make every day in the name of keeping the peace — but in accepting it when others demean us as individuals or as a group considered to be lower-class because we are of a particular gender, body size, color, belief system, etc. (even if you claim we personally are the exception to whatever rule you’ve come up with) — are what corrode our sense of identity. It’s an amazing read and I encourage you to visit the links provided.

This hits home for me because I’ve found myself being on the snarky end of comment-making lately. I try so hard to be a good steward and stand up for what I believe in. And yet, when I see another woman absolutely disgracing what the rest of us have worked so hard for, I get good and frothy mad.

I’m aware that I’ve been generating some bad karma because of this anger and disappointment. And I realize that at least I’m human that I recognize and regret the way I react, but most others probably wouldn’t.

And the reason why I never try to pick on someone who might be calling that kind of attention to themselves so as to attract buzz, well, is because I’ve been the butt of one too many jokes — whether I was in the room to hear them or not — and it pisses me right the fuck off how people feel the need to raise themselves up by putting down someone else.

There was a great line in the first blog post I linked to, “Swallow shit, or ruin the entire afternoon?”

In other words, stand up and call someone out on their narrow-minded meanness, or suck it up and not make waves? Have an uncomfortable series of moments in silence, or risk turning it into a useless battle and — in my estimation — painting the target on your back for future bullshit?

I found myself in this situation when somebody I thought better of made an absolutely ignorant, racist comment. I asked if I’d heard it right. And then I declared I was so very done with that person. Loudly.

Even though I was completely in the right, I find myself feeling sorry for that person. And in a way, almost trying to excuse their stupidity as them not knowing any better.

And speaking up, which I am absolutely fine with because I’m happy to school people when they need it, made for a lot of discomfort on my part in having to deal with that person again. Like, wondering if they were mad at me and how that would impact me.

And that’s such a small example. I get into less trouble when I focus my ponderings on myself, so I’ll take the “swallow shit” thing back and tell you it tastes like ass. How many times we should say something and don’t. How many times we just need to get out of the line of sight of someone looking to pick a fight. How often we just need for a discussion to just end already before we lose the composure we fight so hard to maintain.

How often we just want to pop someone in the jaw because they so very righteously deserve it but we’re the ones who’d get into trouble for “over-reacting” to “an innocent observation.”

The comments on those posts are fascinating, too. The amount of anger and self-defensiveness on the part of those whose iddy biddy widdle feelings are hurt because they’ve been called out pretty much says it all. My friends and I have always been in agreement that those who are paranoid and defensive (and offensive) are those who are aware that they’re being shady and that’s why they are always ready to attack — anything to weaken the enemy even before they are established as an enemy.

We’re not the enemy, people. You making us into the enemy DOES NOT make us the enemy. And then when our own reaction is mistrust until proven otherwise, we’re written off as deserving of whatever you say about us.

Oh, I don’t have a personal stake in this discussion. Not at all.

More to come, I’m sure. …