Caterwauling

Cat Hair Trap, originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn.

The living room is now a work-in-progress, whereas it was formerly a black hole o’ nothingness. Couch/loveseat fit perfectly.

I just broke my back moving that entertainment center (there’s a 32-inch TV hidden behind the smoked glass, and don’t look too closely ’cause I didn’t hang them straight just yet!), but oh well. Something to sit on to watch that TV!

I’m getting rid of the coffee table/end table, if anyone wants to call dibs. They were donated from a friend, so I’ll donate them forward.

Can’t wait to have time to decorate, although I suspect that won’t happen till June at the earliest. Can we say “apartment-warming”? I knew you could!

From the Hallway, originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn.

The problem with living by a furniture store means that you will be LAST on their delivery route, not first. Which gives you a good five-hour window to wonder whether your brand-new purchase will not only fit through the (small) front door, but whether it will also engulf what you had thought was a decent-sized living room.

I didn’t realize the cats were at the bottom of the shot, so say hi to Maddie (left) and Kadie. They’re like, whoa dude, where’d all the boxes go? (Off to the right, in the dining room, actually!)

So, this is the “before” photo. And I’m hoping the “after” photo actually has furniture in it and that it won’t look like a tiny warehouse/showroom when all is said and done. Funny how I don’t get nervous about much, but this? Makes me batshit, wondering whether today will have a happy ending after all.

Hot Pink Everything

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn.

Feet-up Friday! Thank God it’s sandal season — my poor widdle feet were suffocating in boots and other hideously conservative foot coverings.

Most of the shoes got ruined anyway with the fucked-up weather we experienced here in D.C. this season, so I’ve thrown most of them away anyway. (Read: I get to shop for more!)

But *knock on wood* I think spring might be (mostly) here to stay. Hurrah! Sandals from now till Labor Day!

Funny how I can’t stop blogging when I’m out-of-sorts, but when things are going pretty well and are fairly busy, I never preserve these eras for posterity.

I was thinking lately how I never really get excited about anything anymore — at least, not on the surface, and maybe even deep-down I find myself squelching it where it begins. Someone said to me the other day that there’s got to be something that gets my blood pumping. And I thought about it and said, “Well, the Dow DID hit 13,000 on Wednesday!” LOL.

Yes, I know I need to get out more, and I’m remedying that. But still, it always seems so much easier to just stay cool and detached because if the good things go away, well, you weren’t really planning on having them around for longer than a minute, anyway. On the other hand, how much better could they be if you were actually actively lobbying for them?

So I figured I’d put a call in to the Muse to help me write something interesting today.

*cue the crickets*

Boy what a day. Everyone’s in the same mood, and it ain’t an ebullient one. I think everyone’s exhausted, running on empty, frustrated, overwhelmed, underwhelmed, confused, chasing their tails, waiting to catch a break, dreading taking a break and being forced to catch up, and just plain unimpressed.

On one hand, I think we’re all building up things to be a lot harder and/or a lot better than they really are. But on the other hand, we don’t want to set our expectations too low because we (or others) might not stretch as far as we/they can to rise to whatever occasion we want to celebrate but dare not envision.

Today’s one of those days that I’m ready to close my eyes to the fine print and swallow a heaping dose of “I believe in Santa Claus” and hope I’m not one of those who experiences any adverse side effects. Because secretly, I’ve always believed. But now, it’s time to declare it for the world to know. …

I haven’t had many dreams of my grandfather lately. Of course, that could be tied to the irrepressible insomnia that has plagued me in the five months since he died, not to mention the month leading up to it.

In any event, I dreamed that he was able to meet Mom and me for dinner. She had seen/spoke to him to make the date, and she didn’t tell me where we were going. And he was there at the restaurant, not doing anything but simply sitting still and beaming when he saw us — just like he always had. We ordered food but nobody touched it. Mom had a million things to say to him, but I was somewhat immobile — I could only stare at him and just be grateful for these extra moments.

Finally, he looked at me as if to encourage me to speak already. And in the dream, clear as day, I proclaimed that I’d dreamed a million times about being able to see him again, but I had never prepared what it was that I could say because I never actually believed I’d get the opportunity during the remainder of my little lifetime. And here I was, in the moment I’d wished for, and all I could do is tell him how much I loved him and missed him.

And it was enough. There was nothing more to say, as that said it all.

In the few dreams I’ve had of him in the past couple of months, I was terrified in them. I knew that they couldn’t be anything but a dream, yet I always felt like there was something I could do to reverse the course that things took. Last night, I finally just accepted that this is the way it happened, and to let him know that he’s in my heart.

I don’t feel like he’s crossed over yet; I felt like my grandmother went quickly and took the Acela Express to Heaven, but that he’s been hanging around, waiting to make sure Mom and I are OK before he goes ahead and joins her. Last night’s moments gave me hope that he’s ready to chase some clouds and just peek down on us occasionally instead of all the time.

Don’t worry about us, Grampy. We’ll be fine, hopefully sooner rather than later. You made us strong, and taught us to love ourselves. We’re getting by. And someday, it’ll be even better than that. Thanks for putting in a good word for us, wherever you’ve done it, because things are really starting ot turn around. I hate it that you’re not here to be a part of it, but something tells me you’re enjoying the view wherever you are. …

Each day really does bring a treasure trove of new opportunities to live, to love, to learn, to grow and to forge deeper connections.

I know, I’m not saying anything original or even philosophical. But when you take a moment to really calculate what you achieve in an average day, it truly boggles the mind.

Sure, the to-do list is about as gnarly as it was when I got started on it 12 hours ago, but the things I didn’t plan on achieving? Are what I will take with me for the rest of the day and the rest of my life.

I stopped in a store today and the cashier, who had pretty much ignored me till I paid for my order, suddenly got chatty. Asked all kinds of irrelevant questions; swore she recognized me from somewhere. Then I noticed she wasn’t looking at me, but at the insides of my arms, which are bruised from the wrists on up. I think she thought I was an abused wife or something but, no, just got attacked by killer boxes. The delirium is simply a byproduct of cardboard fumes — and empty boxes, at that. One day I might fill them. Or not. Whichever. 😉

In any event, it’s an interesting commentary on our culture that people either don’t notice those who might be in terrible situations, or else they can only do so much to help them. I’m otherwise as happy as can be (even if I look like I was thrown down a few flights of stairs by someone stronger than me!), but it gave me pause that maybe I should pay more attention to my surroundings and see if anyone around me is reaching out for help but is too tired or scared to hold out their arms.

So much good news today, I can’t even begin to type it all. Busy, busy, and happy happy! 🙂

Dear Stars,

Love,
Goddess