Caterwauling

Tropical and Awesome

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

The weather is Tropical and the surf conditions are Awesome. Truth in advertising, for once!

Next week is going to become stupid-busy for me, so I’m enjoying these final few hours of quietude. I got a check I’ve been expecting for a while (woo hoo!) and an unexpected bonus from somewhere else. (WOO HOO!)

Momma needs a laptop, and all the new sexy MacBooks have just come out. But Momma’s Momma needs a whole lot more, and I need to take care of her first.

Oh, if only I could sustain this revenue stream instead of hyperventilating every month around this time. I can afford the new ‘puter, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll be skipping happily to the bank at this time next month.

In any event, I need to say what I want so I can get it. I’ve found myself both returning to the same old work I did years ago, and returning to the same shitty eating habits (and lack of exercise) as well. So I’m basically back in the same place as I was in 2008. Grrr.

No more of that crap. I am declaring my intentions. I want a house in the Keys. I want a six-figure salary. I want Mom to be happy and healthy and ON HER OWN. I want a car that doesn’t answer to the name “Rattling Deathtrap.” I want a good-looking, ambitious and financially secure man.

I’d also like a cosmic tour bus to run over Allen West. And for a space shuttle to fly up Rick Perry’s butt. And for Michele Bachmann’s husband to find a more-appropriate spouse (like the Nyan Cat).

Really, is it so much to ask?

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There’s a phrase I hear from time to time in my industry, “swings and roundabouts.”

Basically it’s a way of saying something is a Catch-22, although it’s more balanced. In other words, to get something, you gotta give something.

Like, you have to exchange “having time to do fun things” for “getting the money to do fun things.” They’re kind of mutually exclusive, like if you have to give up “staying in your jammies all day” to “get a job.”

You see where this is going, yes?

Anyway, I’m swinging today. (That sounds a bit more interesting than it really is!) Rather, I’m enjoying the free time and the living in mah jammies because I think my soul has grown back enough to start roundabouting. Perks of working from home aside, little things like life’s little luxuries — and the big things, too — have been a little challenging to maintain and I’d like to think about reintegrating the ones that have fallen off the “necessities” list.

Everyone, if you’re so inclined, please light a money candle (green) for me if you get a chance, mmkay? I’ll take you to dinner when it can be on me again, I promise!

Battle of the Bulge Memorial, Orlando

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

It was by chance that I stayed in a hotel a couple of months ago in Orlando that was right across the street from a memorial dedicated to those who fought in the Battle of the Bulge in World War II.

My grandfather fought in that battle. Got wounded for life as one of the fine brave paratroopers there, but I’m so proud of him that he was part of the world’s history, and not just mine.

It’s a shame that being in the army wasn’t what did him in, but that the Veterans Hospital in Pittsburgh killed him with their neglect and shoddy care and his twunty doctor “Trang” (First name? Last name? Doctor Twat to me) took an otherwise happy and mostly healthy 80-year-old and stripped him of all dignity and sent him to an early grave.

Anyway, it’s not like y’all haven’t heard that song and dance around these parts before. But Memorial Day has been nothing but full of hurt and anger and sadness since we lost him. We used to celebrate our family and our soldiers. Now we just go to Five Guys for a cheeseburger (no grills allowed here) and wish my grandfather were still with us.

I’m preparing to go into my own battle of sorts. I need a job. I don’t WANT one, and I’ve enjoyed the past six months of not HAVING one. But alas, I am feeling too calm and too good about myself. It’s time to find the next employer to ruin all that.

But I also have a side project that doesn’t pay (yet) lined up to keep my brain in gear. Thank God. You will all know my real name one of these days (not like most of you don’t know it already!).

You know, I got so sick of the ex-employer claiming I was “Gucci” or “a splurge” or “overpaid.” (To deal with that kind of name-calling? Was not compensation enough.) And others with whom I interviewed, I was told I was “expensive.”

Well, now that my savings is depleted and my heart is equally empty, I’m glad you all have reduced me to poverty. Thanks for deciding not to pay me AT ALL because you couldn’t afford what I am WORTH. Fuck every single last one of you. Now that I’m broke again — ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

That’s it. I’m going to the mattresses. And not the one that’s calling me from the next room. Not this time, anyway.

Chocolate Bacon S’Mores and other delights

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

So, I snuck out of the house yesterday. At age 36.

I have to do it every once in a while. It gives me new appreciation for the Ultra Extra Over-Extended Houseguest. I mean, full-time caregivers at least get the occasional night off or unsupervised grocery store run, right? It’s amazing what a little air will do.

I’ve tried to associate my leaving with “getting something in return.” If I go out, I always bring back dinner. (The chance of NOT eating dinner around here is around 86% any other day.) Or a souvenir, if it’s a longer trip. Anything to show that YOU BENEFIT when I unshackle my ankles for an hour.

Last night I went to a Meetup where one of the little villages was hosting a Wine and Art Walk. I located neither wine nor art, so that was quaint. Seriously, where was the wine-glass-decorating booth? Where were ANY vendors other than about a dozen steel-drum players? (And that rock cover band — Van Halen tunes still rock my world.)

One thing I’ve realized with this blog is that I don’t use it effectively anymore. Before I started getting stalked by a psycho nutjob, I used to review the restaurants and other activities that captured my attention. But I didn’t want him to know that I was lying when I pretended to be living (wherever).

My whole life revolved around Rockville, Md., my last two years in the D.C. area. So I reviewed restaurants EVERYWHERE ELSE. It was probably obvious, the omission. But I didn’t care — I didn’t want that crazy fucker showing up at my favorite haunts. (Oh Growlers and Dogfish Head Ale House, how I miss thee. …)

Even now, I’m fairly ambiguous about where I spend my time. Although, that’s mostly because I don’t want to play “Name That Employer.” I rather like being able to snipe at them with only my closest friends in the industry knowing to whom I’m referring.

Anyway, I’m coming out, since it’s Pride Weekend here and all.

Last night I went to Relish in Northwood Village. Although there was no free wine in the streets as promised, there was free beer … and the sample of Milk Stout by the Left Hand Brewing Company reeled me in.

OMG, can you say “orgasm,” boys and girls? It’s a sweeter Guinness without the double-pouring business. NOM.

I could have had four beers during the (long) wait for my food. And despite one of the items being MISSING from my order after the 35-minute wait to take it to-go (“to go” is synonymous for “doesn’t always ‘come with’”), I was going absolutely apeshit and didn’t bother checking the bag.

But … the Pear and Blue flatbread? To DIE for. The lamb burger with the tzatziki relish? Divine! (There are like eight types of burger, from chorizo to buffalo to lobster, and a couple dozen “relishes” you can choose for them.) The mahi-mahi with chimichurri wasn’t too shabby, either. And the polenta fries with rosemary-garlic salt were lovely.

Believe it or not, it’s hard to find somewhere “cool” to go down here. Everything’s overcrowded and overpriced. EV-ER-Y-THING. I didn’t notice it so much when I had a job, but now that I’m being careful with money again, it’s rather appalling. I mean, I’d rather take guests to the Keys than keep them here.

But this is making me get creative and find wonderful little nooks in the neighborhoods I otherwise just pass through. I mean, like in D.C., I still think the best food I ever got there was at this dive of a Chinese place called Ho King. (Ask me why I was attracted to the name. lol)

Don’t get me wrong — if I went to D.C. today, my ass would be at CoCo Sala tonight. (Or Matchbox. I do love the Penn Quarter area best.) But that was for friend nights, for special occasions, for splurges.

Most of the time, though, it was just me (usually leaving work at an unreasonable hour), so I had to find my favorite cheap places. And I have yet to find a Five Guys that was better than the one by the Northern Virginia Community College.

I miss the peanut shells on the ground there. That place was dirty and tiny and awesome. We have Five Guys in Florida, but they are all so very pristine. If they offer peanuts (and there are about 30 signs warning you about nut allergies), you get a little paper dish for them. Don’t go littering shells on the floors down here, yo. God, I miss NoVa.

I just got an e-mail from Kimpton Hotels with insanely good D.C. rates. I think it’s time for a pilgrimage back to the mother land. I miss my friends … my urban-tribe family. I hate myself that I didn’t spend enough time with them. Shit, one of them just moved to New York and another is in Charleston. And two more are in Arizona!

Sigh. Anyway, although Relish forgot the Extra-Terrestrial Being from Outer Space’s sea-salt fries, I still love them. They are friendly and sweet and the place has a great vibe. What I loved best was that there was no line to add a tip on the receipt.

The gal in line behind me asked why there was no line for the tip. Which just goes to show HOW FUCKING MUCH MONEY PEOPLE HAVE TO WASTE HERE.

The cashier cheerfully said that they don’t want tips; they would rather you tell your friends how much you loved it there.

And THAT, my friends, is the way it should be. Not like the asshole at the local Chinese dump who almost spit on my receipt when he examined it and realized NO TIP FOR YOU. For what — steaming some vegetables, which took 25 minutes? Please. For that kind of wait, give me a damn Milk Stout and let me people-watch, like I can at Relish.

So anyway, I’m telling my friends — you’ll love Relish. And if you get the Chocolate Bacon S’Mores (just $20 for a two-person serving), let me know how they are so I can treat my next out-of-town guests to that goodness. …

If youve ever stayed in Disney and ordered a wake up call, chances are that you’ve been greeted at an ungodly hour with an unbearablly chipper “Have a Mickey day!”

Luckily, I stay offsite and use my phone when i need an alarm. But even the non employees are sweet in Orlando. It’s downright bizarre, considering how fucking rude everyone is in the southern part of the state.

Not much to say other than the fact that i am on a road trip with a gal i haven’t seen since high school, with the exception of watching the Super Bowl together earlier this month.

We are having fun. Lots of trips down memory lane. She was talking about some friend of hers from Pitt and I know some folks who went there and I asked his last name. I probably should not have blurted out, “Oh i remember him — I slept with him!”

Slutty teenage Goddess.

We were in Gainsville two days ago for a concert and will see the same band tonight. They were amazing and I am glad i came along on this odyssey. Last night we went to Citywalk and attended Mardi Gras at Universal Studios. It was awful and a huge waste of money, minus the cute boys who gave us beads as we drank our $65 beers.

But our dinner at Latin Quarter was superb. Besides, anything beats being at home!

More to come when i get home. Just trying to find some garlic Mardi Gras beads for protection and hope for the best before we roll home tomorrow. I have no doubt, though, that we will have another fun night with an amazing band. I got a hug from the super cute lead singer, so I will soon be gettin’ mah groupie on and loving it!