Caterwauling

And Catholicism arrives in America

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I feel the need to blog. Why, I do not know, because “Teen Mom” is on and I shudder to admit that it’s my favorite show of the moment.

The amazing Lady L and I packed up her furry four-pawed wonder and headed north to St. Augustine for the weekend. It was the perfect amount of time there — the town was tiny and charming and the people were absolutely lovely.

My boss refers to St. Augustine as “South Georgia,” because Southern hospitality is alive and well there. People make eye contact with you, and the servers are attentive, and not only are you never waiting for a refill but your server will ask you if you want a to-go cup so that you can enjoy your beverage as you go off on your next adventure.

It made us realize that South Florida? Blows. It’s just plastic and fake and rude and barely tolerable for nice Northern girls. If northern Florida is South Georgia, then southern Florida is South New York.

I will be spending my now-fourth weekend away from home this weekend. Yeah! I’m happily hanging out with my fur-nephew again at his palace by the sea. I prefer vacationing with him and his mom, of course. Even if his tiny 20-pound puppy butt takes up the middle half of the king-size bed while we cling to opposite corners.

My cat is slightly irritated at my absence, given the UEOEH’s proclivity to dance said cat around the apartment like a marionette. Also given that said dog ate said cat’s dinner and then peed in her dish for good measure. But, the further away I am from my roomie, the happier I am.

Work’s been good although I should probably stay up all night to deliver a project I’ve been promising for two months. Due tomorrow. Sigh. It’s not that I’m NOT working — it just keeps falling to the bottom of the “urgent” pile.

Anyway, we loved St. Auggie’s. LOVED. It’s a place to take someone you enjoy hanging out with. Even someone you downright adore. I could retire there someday; I loved it that much.

I still want my summer home to be in Vancouver, and I can always return to South Florida to attend to the business that Lady L and I plan to start. But to eat French and Spanish food in a town where everyone (even the ghosts) are friendly (minus those nasty spirits in the Old Jail), I could live happily ever after by the Matanzas Bay.

Especially if our business employed my mother a good four-plus hours away!!!

Watercolor sunset

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I was just reading Lachlan’s bucket list and wondered whether articulating/formalizing my own might make me more-inclined to start tackling it.

1. Visit Ireland. (Plan has been hatched for 2011!)
2. See every major city in Europe.
3. Kick out the Extra-Over-Extended Houseguest. Again.
4. Visit all of the Florida Keys. (The inhabitable ones. I’ve done stuff on two of 30. Lots more to see!)
5. Raise my credit score above my IQ.
6. Fall in love.
7. Get married. Hopefully to the person in No. 6.
8. Help to rear a child. Doesn’t have to be biological. I’m all about fostering or adopting, although I’ve had it with freeloaders. I may reconsider this one!
9. Feel beautiful. Whether through diet, exercise or plastic surgery. Or all of the above.
10. Forgive my mother.

Hopefully these will all become “Mission: Possible” in time, although I’m more likely to find my pot of gold than to achieve No. 10 in this lifetime.

Liberty Bell

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

The only thing that irritates me about social media — other than my absolute dependence on it — is when it’s a holiday and everybody’s posting good tidings.

Skip the Suzy Sunshine shit and entertain me, damn it!

*cough* So, OK, nothing really newsworthy here. L and I spent the day sailing around Key Largo yesterday. We figure, if we’re going to live in paradise — for a brief time, probably — then we owe it to ourselves to explore it.

And we had a blast.

It was raining like hell here in Palm Beach County yesterday. But we went to Monroe County, and it was lovely. Absolutely lovely. We got into a glass-bottom boat at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park, and had nothing but blue skies and sunshine and oil-free waters, which I captured with my new camera.

I need furniture. And a storage unit. And a boat to Cuba that I can toss my mother into. But alas, I bought a camera because that — shy of the boat — is what I will get the most use/enjoyment out of.

Hell, I’m just happy to get the hell out of Dodge. I can’t stand being at home. Work was really stressful last week. Not “crackhead”-level stressful by ANY means. But, you know, not easy, either.

Given the theme of today’s holiday, however, celebrating one’s independence is in HIGH order.

I don’t have much else to say … well, that I CAN write … but life is just too short to be stressed out. Our existence doesn’t really end here, so we should be living it up while we’re in this life form because it’s the briefest. It’s all about collecting experiences, and let me tell you, I know EXACTLY how lucky I am to be who/where I am.

And I just want to enjoy it while I (can) have it. Which is why I leave crap jobs and so-called friends behind, and jump on the wind and ride it wherever it’s blowing. I’m not always as light of heart and spirit (or ass) as I should be. But I will do my damndest to not let the wrong things weigh me down.

Key lime pie French toast

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

In my field, you spend your workdays with Warren Buffett.

But I’m pleased to say that last weekend, the lovely L and I escaped to the land of Jimmy Buffett … and Ernest Hemingway … and Harry S. Truman … and Tennessee Williams — that is, Key West.

Pictured is an honest-to-goodness piece of key lime pie on Texas toast with berry compote from Azur.

Not pictured is the “key lime food baby” that is very happy from the other goodies we ingested …. the world’s best key lime pie at Blond Giraffe … key lime hollandaise over a lobster (with lobster bacon!) omelet at Blue Heaven …. key limeade at Mallory Square … and other such non-key-lime noms as hogfish and steak at Pisces, a Cuban sandwich at, well, some Cuban place … coconut milk straight from the coconut at Cuban Coffee Queen … and whatever the hell else we had in between.

Oh, and Sloppy Joe’s. Best bar EVER. With ’80s music. Like Bon Jovi. Plus, frozen mango mojitos. Need I say more?

The trip was more than a foodie’s delight, what with the ghost tour, the trolley tour and the shopping. And Baby’s Coffee. But wow, what a weekend.

Can’t wait for the next time we hit the Keys … Islamorada, here we come!!!

City street, Old Montreal

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I’m sure if you’ve ever over-indulged on culinary delights, you’ve lugged around a “food baby” for a while. After last night’s dinner, I’m calling mine “fondue baby.”

Things I have consumed my weight (and possibly yours) in during the last 7 days:

1. Brie
2. Goat cheese
3. Baguettes
4. Croissants
5. Bordeaux
6. Coffee
7. Escargots
8. Beer
9. Fondue. Swiss cheese and white wine, with tomato bread pieces, merci beaucoup

Tonight, whilst back in dog-breath-heat-and-humidity-land (i.e., South Florida), I went for the tried-and-true native cuisine, fish tacos and key lime pie.

While I miss all the fabulous French food, a girl just can’t eat like that every day. Well, she COULD, but not if she wants to continue buckling that airline safety belt over the fondue baby!