Caterwauling

Lake Avenue Bridge

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Headed out again tonight. Last I wrote, I went to a lovely beach bonfire.

Those are going to be held every other weekend, but this weekend, apparently all the new-age junkies all get together and worship the full moon in a drum circle in the same spot as the bonfire.

I don’t know what to expect when I head up to Lake Worth tonight, other than drummers, dancers, fire-spinners and other nuts like me who worship the elements — sand (earth), ocean (water), moon (as sun) (fire) and tasty-delicious salty breezes (air).

I hope I can find some time to hit the bonfire next weekend. I do so very much love free events.

Speaking of escaping donations, I’m going to skip church tomorrow, but not because I’m taking part of some holy heathen ceremony tonight.

< diatribe >

(The pastor was on a tear last week about all of us who yap about our horoscopes on Facebook — how that’s such a slap in God’s face. Fine, I unsubscribed from my horoscope, but I’m not giving up worshiping Mother Earth, yo. I need all the good karma I can get.)

< / diatribe >

Anyway, in a move that will cost about 40 times that of the weekly check in the offering at church, I figured I’d hit the South Florida Fair, as it will be the last day and all.

Sidenote: I still get such a kick out of attending things like festivals and fairs in 80-degree January weather. It’s just marvelous. It’s 11 degrees in D.C. (I’m sorry, guys — I have to count my blessings.)

However, I am slightly bummed that I won’t see my man at church, though. Perhaps he will miss me.

Anyway, speaking of wasting time, I spent today in very expensive neighborhoods, and I have such a hard time coming to terms with the gaping void between the “haves” and “have nots.”

Particularly as I passed Anna Kournikova’s house, where she allegedly left her 5-year-old alone for an hour and the kid supposedly fell out of a window and into their pool, I just could do little but scratch my head as I drove my beat-up jalopy through the neighborhoods with 20-foot-tall, square hedges that shield their multimillion-dollar homes from the likes of me.

I’ll spare the “couldn’t afford a babysitter?” bit, but suffice it to say, I feel like I’m being so greedy and terrible that I spend so much on rent when I’m sure most of the residents in Palm Beach County — at least, where I was today — probably have six or seven other homes around the world. And I’m sure they have food in every fridge and about eight cars in every driveway.

This is what makes me the crazy, tree-hugging liberal I am. I don’t begrudge anyone anything. But I’ve been deeply immersed in a Patrick Lencioni book in which he examines, among other things, irrelevance in the workplace, it makes one wonder whether all these bored and unfulfilled stars would be happier making a difference in the lives of others instead of just buying happiness in the form of material things.

Wow, the diatribes just keep coming. Imagine what I *really* want to be saying instead, since my cognitive dysentery is symptomatic of penguin pokage verbal constipation.

Anyway, I’m just saying, the more money I make, the more I spend. Which means I’m as poor (although less morally bankrupt, I hope) as I was five years and four raises ago. And I think, what if I were in the bajillion-dollar income bracket — would I, instead of having seven homes around the world, have 14 … two in each country so that Mom can have one and I can have the other?

I know, I know, I’m picking on her unfairly today. It’s sort of like when I used to play darts. There was the actual dartboard that I hit, and the mental picture that got me to focus on driving a sharp piece of metal into the bullseye.

I guess I’m crabby because I started thinking about moving again. Just across the Intracoastal, when this stupid lease is up. My cat has been very sick and since I missed so many signs with Maddie, I’m hyper when Kadie isn’t well.

Turns out that apparently the apartment may be making Kadie sick, as the doctor said she got E. Coli from the water. Which, Florida water SUCKS. But I wonder if it’s the ancient pipes or the water itself.

And yes, it’s slightly hilarious that I’m now buying bottled water for my cat, but I drink out of the tap. Welcome to my world. I’m two steps away from buying her a stroller like everybody else in my neighborhood does for their pets!

I don’t know what today’s theme is. Perhaps it’s that money leases your freedom and happiness over the short term, but it’s the little things that warm (or chill) your heart forever, so choose wisely, grasshopper, what supposedly small moments and memories are going to do their little part in shaping your worldview and, ultimately, the rest of your life.

‘And bonfires lit up the shore’

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Yesterday = Best. Day. Ever.

A severe annoyance pre-8 a.m. could have put a damper on the day. I write off said annoyance to factors at work long before that.

Did a “work from home” day that was mostly spent between Barnes & Noble and Panera at CityPlace. I find I get more done while sitting in traffic than I do in the office — absolutely productive day.

It was also a gorgeous day. 80 degrees. Sunny. Breezy. Magnificent.

But alas, as I was wrapping up my projects for the day (to be resumed Sunday night), the skies parted and Moses came looking for animals to round up. So, I caught a movie (”It’s Complicated”) at the Parisian after the official “Yabba Dabba Do!” escaped my lips at quitting time.

The rain was light when I left and I wasn’t sure I was going to head down to Lake Worth for the beach bonfire, but I did. And just for me, I think, the rain stopped and I truly got to experience why people live in beach towns.

I admit, I never understood “beach people” until now. But sitting next to a huge fire pit in the sand and having the ocean just 12 feet away … aaah. This is my heaven. This is what I will aspire to, every day for the rest of my life.

I saw someone I know there — she introduced me to her friends and invited me to hang with her group. Which was so nice. I opted to do the lone-wolf thing, though. I have far too many half-formed ideas in my head and really enjoyed spending the evening with them.

My clothes, skin, hair — everything — were permeated with firewood and salt air, and it was good. In the elevator at my building, one gentleman said, “You must’ve gone to the bonfire.” It’s that potent. I’d like to bottle this scent and make perfume and candles out of it.

Speaking of (still) smelling like a fire pit, I must hop in the shower now to wash that lovely scent off of my skin. But I am certain, that, for the rest of my life, I will never forget dancing barefoot in the sand as the D.J. spun this glorious little tune. …

“Left a good job in the city,
Working for The Man every night and day,
And I never lost one minute of sleeping,
Worrying ’bout the way things might have been.

Big wheel keep on turning,
Proud Mary keep on burning,
Rolling, rolling, rolling on the river.

Cleaned a lot of plates in Memphis,
Pumped a lot of ‘tane down in New Orleans,
But I never saw the good side of the city,
Until I hitched a ride on a river boat queen.

Rolling, rolling, rolling on the river.
If you come down to the river,
Bet you gonna find some people who live.
You don’t have to worry ’cause you have no money,
People on the river are happy to give.”

– CCR (but Tina Turner’s version), “Proud Mary”

South Ocean at Christmas

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I giggle at this Charlie Brown palm tree every night of my life. There are so many beautifully decorated palms in my area, but then there’s this half-assed wonder.

And yet, now that I’ve captured its ridiculousness for the world to see, I’ve developed an unexpected fondness for it.

I’m sure that’s a metaphor for something else.

I think back to when my grandparents were still alive, how I would not want to go back to the mother ship for the holidays, and my mother always swore that it might be the last holiday I saw them alive.

I always hated that. And eventually, the opportunities to visit evaporated, but I made sure to enjoy the times I *did* make the effort so that the regrets weren’t as bad as they could have been.

Similarly, I’m training myself to live like this is it. (Here’s a great blog entry from Gaping Void, telling us to fight like hell, because this is it.)

Like when I drive to work, do I take the scenic route or the slightly faster one? I mean, I spend the drive on the phone most of the time anyway, but I’d rather enjoy the beauty of the A1A because, hey, it could all end tomorrow.

Not to be fatalistic like Mom was, but I like to think of it as being realistic. I had $50 to my name yesterday (and none today) and should have bought groceries for Mom and me, but I said fuck it and took us to lunch at the Old Key Lime House instead.

But, can you blame me, when this was the view from my table?

Anyway, who the hell knows what’s next for any of us in this life. But just as I’d rather have one exquisite waterfront dining experience rather than a week’s worth of food, I’m taking an attitude of “don’t wait to love it or experience it.”

Because, as I’m hoping, the more experiences I collect, the more — bigger and better ones — will present themselves to me.

‘Ice-skimo’

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Haven’t really been around the Internet much in the past few days, mostly because the Internet has been out at Casa Caterwauling and the only time I was able to get online was when I was in Orlando for the weekend. *eyeroll*

Ask me how much I hate Comcast right now. Wait … don’t. My head will start spinning around again. Seven days without Internet, but two days FILLED with ineptitude. Shocking, I know.

Let’s talk about Orlando, shall we?

One highlight of my trip north was to the Gaylord Palms — a hotel where I have FOND memories (there’s a tinge of sarcasm there, but I really do have some damn good memories of staying there!). It was fun to show Mom where I got drunk there and got hit on here and there’s the hotel room where I made a post-midnight visit to …. O HAI TMI. *ahem*

Anyway, for the G-rated portion of this tour. …

Went to the “Ice” showcase, where the convention center was turned into a 9-degrees-warm wonderland.

Nine degrees in Florida. Little Miss here was in flip-flops and had freezer-burned toes after her 20 minutes in the exhibit.

It was very cool (pun intended) — absolutely everything was made of ice. (Photoset here.) Not worth nearly $60 for admission for two people (and $12 to park), but very cute nonetheless.

I got the world’s best souvenir from my trip there. I’ve been looking for a nativity forever — something small, modern and cute. Preferably something made of crystal. And hot damn, I found THE most perfect nativity in the “Ice” gift shop:

Big ups to the Gaylord for providing parkas. They even had hats and mittens for sale in the gift shop that you are dumped into AFTER the event. (*sigh*) Too bad they didn’t have socks — I would REALLY look like a South Floridian with socks and flip-flops!

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got for tonight. I have a lot on my mind and I’m going to do something wild and crazy and NOT process my thoughts in public. (A first! It’s a Christmas MIRACLE!!!)

Anyway, ho ho ho and a bottle of pinot. …

The lovely Helen er, Shannon put out a call for another 79 of us to share our worlds — where we go, what we do, what constitutes life in our part of the planet.

This girl who was born in the projects and grew up on food stamps and government cheese now lives in one of the richest neighborhoods in America. Of course, since I pay for two apartments here, some food stamps would be very much appreciated right now.

This is a little area called the Port of Palm Beach, although it’s also known as the Riviera Beach Marina. Reminds me very much of Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, and I love it so:

I’ve only been there twice, once to volunteer for my church (more on that later) and once yesterday, to have a lovely lunch at the Tiki Bar. Some of you on Facebook were envying my bacon-wrapped scallops with the apricot-horseradish dipping sauce yesterday.

Speaking of church, I attend one of the four campuses (five if you count the Internet) of Christ Fellowship. There’s a main campus in Palm Beach Gardens, and they broadcast their services to all the other locations except mine.

Well, it’s complicated — they do broadcast to my campus for the 9 a.m. service.

But I attend the 11 a.m. service because I love the on-site pastor and he does his own thing then, aimed at people our age and younger. He’s 39 and very easy on the eyes. (Hey, it doesn’t matter what my reasons are for going to church, just as long as I go, right?)

This is what my church looks like on the inside:

This is the outside:

The city where I work has been named the No. 2 beach in Florida for sandcastle-building. Only, I have yet to see a sandcastle. But I’ve seen exquisite creatures like this guy on random mornings in which I happen to squeeze in a quick walk:

I lost most of my summer because of an all-consuming project. But these days, I’m trying to get out as much as possible and not miss what my area has to offer. I mean, it is Christmas, after all. …

I currently live in an adorable little penthouse apartment with updated, stainless-steel appliances that break. My a/c is turned off, thanks to my first month’s bill being $500 because the unit is old. So, it gets hot up here. But since it’s “winter” in Florida (80 degrees as a low, anyone?), not only is the weather gorgeous, but the winds are incredibly strong up here.

My condo sits on the Intracoastal Waterway …

With the Atlantic Ocean across the street …

This is as close to paradise as it gets, kids.

I work here. It looks like IKEA but is simply only furnished by it. The John Lennon poster is not mine, but I love New York and that makes me happy. Next to it is my calendar of Paris, because that’s where I want to be:

In this area, the homeless are quite creative. They use palm leaves to make “roses” and other souvenirs:

I’ve started spending my Saturdays in Fort Lauderdale. The weather has been for crap the past couple weeks and I couldn’t get a good picture to save my life.

I tried to go to Winterfest on Saturday — the biggest, baddest boat parade in the area. I had a GREAT parking spot, which my awesome server at Cafe Bluefish turned me on to. (And the dolphin fingers at Cafe Bluefish? To. Die. For.)

But alas, it rained like fucking hell and I gave up on the idea, even though I was in a FREE parking space, just TWO BLOCKS from the event. Gah.

The only photo I can find of the Fort Lauderdale area is this one, of the Seminole Hard Rock in Hollywood, Fla. … the title of the photo is “A Bar Named After My Life.”

Regular readers of this blog know that I’m on a quest to “live this life if it kills me.” Thus, I will be heading to Orlando on Thursday to celebrate Christmas, Disney-style.

I don’t have any digital photos of Disney, but I usually stay at the Gaylord Palms. (Correction: I did while I was on my last employer’s dime!) So, here’s a photo of the view from my hotel room — yes, this was taken indoors.

Thank you for taking this tour of my life with me! This is a great scrapbook of memories from this period in my life. Shannon, thanks for including me in the project!