Caterwauling

Cotton candy colored clouds and ocean

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Because I’d like to write something more intelligent than “argh,” “ack,” “pfft,” “bleargh” or “waaa-waaaaaah!” (i.e., Debbie Downer music), here’s life in a nutshell.

Note that I stole quite a few of these lines from somewhere else. Because, hey, if they said it better, who the hell am I to change perfection?

Aimed at no one in particular, since most of them won’t see this anyway.

1. I listen to every song you post on your wall. And download the very few I don’t already own.

2. “Every time you walk in the room
I could never be sure of a smile
You were never the same way twice
I’m falling in love, night after night
And it’s crazy.” — Blue Rodeo, “Try”

3.a. “Tomorrow you’ll realize what I’m worth. And I’ll be with the guy who realized it yesterday.” My favorite Twitterfeed, The Notebook

3.b. Same source: “Don’t wait for the right person to come into your life. Be the right person to come into someone else’s life.”

3.c. And again: “The only 3 things a guy should wanna change about his girl is her last name, her address and her viewpoint on men.”

3.d. One more time, with feeling: “I’m currently making some changes in my life. If you don’t hear from me anymore, you’re probably one of them.”

4. “If God meant the day to be perfect, then he wouldn’t have invented tomorrow.” — Girlfriend Facts feed

5. “If you see me out on the town
And it looks like I’m burning it down
You won’t ask and I won’t say
But in my heart I’m always somewhere with you.” – Kenny Chesney, “Somewhere With You”

6. Do people really believe their own B.S.? I promise, if you say something enough times, it still doesn’t make it true.

7. I’m changing all my passwords to “incorrect” — so that I when I can’t remember, my computer tells me “your password is incorrect.” (Can’t take credit for this but can’t remember where I got it!)

8. “Imagine a cool mountain stream. The air is crisp and the water is so clean you can clearly see the face of the person who is annoying you below the surface.” — The illustrious, incredible Silver Blue

9. My soul’s value ain’t on clearance, and my heart ain’t gonna be waiting at the store for you when you come back. Pay up or step off.

10. Hey Prince Charming, I know Google Maps sucks, you’re lost and you’re too proud to ask for directions. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come rescue YOU.

Any other words to live by to offer a girl?

Simone Hemingway

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

This is my six-toed (on each paw) buddy Simone, who I met at the Hemingway House in Key West. She reminds me of my Maddie, and I wanted to stick her in my bag and bring her home.

So it’s been a month since the “It’s not you, it’s me — oh, wait, it’s you” speech. I’ve spent a lot of time searching my soul for what went wrong and how not to find myself in the same situation next time around. Somehow, I think giving me time to reflect is the worst punishment of all.

And punishment for what, exactly? My mom is one of those people who assumes she deserves whatever poop on a platter the universe is serving up. Yet I’ve never met a nicer person than her, you know? Like, why would anyone feel that ordering a gyro and getting a shit sandwich instead feel like there must be a reason for that? Oh hell no — it is our birthright to be happy. So, send that bitch back and bring me what I ordered!

The last time I found myself job-free, as the months turned into MANY months, I started to feel that way, though. That damn, I must be a real asshole for the universe to keep punishing me with the prospect of losing what little I had. And I don’t want to ever succumb to that feeling again.

That said, while I wouldn’t say I deserve anything bad, I finally have insight into how things came to be.

I was watching Joel Osteen last night. It blows to be home on a Friday but, hey, a girl’s gotta conserve her resources. And while I was just looking for a fuzzy-wuzzy feel-good message, I got knocked off the couch with something he said.

He was speaking specifically about the workplace, and gave the example of having a crazy supervisor who makes your life difficult. But if you don’t hang in there and let that experience change you, then you will go to another job with TWO crazy people, not just one.

And I snickered at that. Because I see the truth in it. You think you’re running away but then you get a heaping dose.

But that was something I struggled with when I left the Den of Iniquity. At what point do you dig in your heels and wait for God to show you why He put you there, and when do you cry “Uncle!” and run away from the disturbed uncle who keeps psychologically molesting you?

For me, I fell silent at the Den for my final months there. After I dared to question Elvis on why he did something so incredibly stupid that he did, and I got roared at (and lied to) for five solid hours, I stopped asking questions. I slipped out quietly and started my new life.

At my “new life,” I didn’t want to be silent anymore. I was quiet, sure, but based on past experience, I only wanted to be part of battles that I had a chance of winning.

It occurred to me last night when the battle lines got drawn. I can pinpoint that very moment. What I thought was full disclosure turned out to be a choice I couldn’t undo. What others cheered me for, was my undoing.

I don’t blame anybody for that. I can’t. I just wish that I would have spoken up more, if this was how it was going to turn out. I am not sure exactly what God wanted me to learn, but I always felt that I was there to help change others. I guess I failed Him there, too.

Anyway, with all this time to think, my worries are all over the place. I worry about money, sure. Who doesn’t? But moreover, I fear that whatever unresolved baggage I’m left with from the last time around will haunt me next time, the way I never expected the last luggage set to appear at my doorstep once I moved on.

I guess what’s different this time around is that I’ve at least had a chance to analyze, and compartmentalize, so that when I stick this suitcase on the shelf once and for all, I’ll travel light to my next destination.

Home

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Just chugging some coffee so I’m awake for the drive to Key West today.

Palm Beach ain’t so bad, though. I’ve been looking at apartments in various cities, and I realize I’m quite in love with where I am, thank you very much. Screw anyone who tries to take that away.

It’s the losing of the health insurance that has me nuts now. That everyone else can keep buying haircuts and handbags while I am begging CVS to let me fill my prescriptions now and not on Jan. 10 when they’re due again. (No luck. Boo.)

Oh well. I’m going to run away to the Keys and maybe never come back. My idea of a coffeehouse/wine bar/Italian pastry shop may come true yet. Just give me a shack on the beach, and I can make it work from there.

Mom said I should go by myself, since I cannot stand being around her every second of every day. But I wouldn’t have spent the (way too much) money on this trip if it wasn’t a Christmas present for her. I told her, look, I’m used to running away from home at every opportunity. Now we are breathing the same air 24/7 and it’s Day 3 together and I’m ready to blow out my brains. But we are going to have to work together to get through this, so if you can just (for once) respect my space while I’m at home, then that’s the only way this will work. But don’t martyr yourself over a damn vacation.

I’ve decided that the only thing that will make me feel better is to fuck someone else’s husband. I have a very short list. To quote the beautiful Nicole Kidman in “Practical Magic,” “Hang on to your husbands, ladies! I’m back!”

LOL. Not that I want to compromise my karma. But I am allowing myself an evil thought or three to get me through the night.

This truly was the best year of my life. It was also the worst. Next year isn’t starting off the way I wanted it to. But it sure as hell isn’t going to end like this one, either. And that right there is something to toast when the drag queen drops onto Duval Street tonight. …

So, today I:

1. Got my site migrated AND un-fucked up from a recent hacking, thanks to the AMAZING team at Blog Wranglers. Did I mention it was quick and painless and they are the nicest guys around? You should have Blog Wranglers migrate your site. Seriously. They rock. True Web geniuses, I tell you!

2. Updated my resume. And reaffirmed the fact that I managed to achieve a lot in a very short time frame. Or, tried like hell to.

3. Realized that I have some absolutely amazing friends and mentors who will always have my back. God was extra-good to me in this regard, and I thank Him profusely for it.

4. Got some cool stuff in the mail that I was afraid I would never receive.

5. Do not have a job to go to anymore.

Hmm.

Yeah.

Not sure what else to say about that.

I’d love to say “it’s all good” and believe that I will indeed be thankful someday. (Today is not that day, however.)

But really, when you look at the (very abbreviated) list of what happened today (and that ain’t even the half of it), you see that four out of five items are blessings. And maybe so will the fifth, one day.

All I have to say is that karma pays it back to some people, and pays it forward to others.

And I guess my karma has been pretty pristine, because at a time when I could be freaking the fuck out, I’m OK. The universe has my back. I can not only feel it, but I can see it plain as day.

Better days are coming. Don’t count me out just yet. My success story is still a work in progress. But maybe everyone is right and that this is the kick in the ass I needed to get back on the right track.

Maybe it’s time to write that book. Since I have quite a lot to say. And it deserves the proper forum. Look out, Patrick Lencioni. Your biggest fan is ready to record her own story!

Right after I go to Key West for the New Year, of course. Damn non-refundable trip that I didn’t purchase the “job loss” insurance for. *facepalm* Oh well. Nothing like ringing in the new year from my happy place to ensure that I bring in 2011 with nothing but joy and anticipation.

(I’m hoping this all doesn’t fuck up my Paris trip.)

But mark my words, Lady L and I will be toasting with champagne at this time next year in New Orleans. And laughing at how silly 2010 was and thank God we never have to feel again the way we felt during that crazy year we spent in Florida.

I just spent the past 12 hours with my favoritest person on earth. We shopped. We ate cheese. We drank mojitos, margaritas, wine and coffee. I got a book on Paris. And we had beignets.

The only thing that could ruin the day is, you guessed it, a call from the UEOEH.

I do feel bad for the woman. She left a VM saying she didn’t know where I was (!), and asking me to pick up Motrin. She sounded like she was in a type of pain that said pills would probably barely touch.

That was, hmm, eight or nine hours ago. I had left her $20 and there’s a store across the bridge. Walking distance, I say.

Naturally she scares the hell out of me, per usual, by appearing as I’m in the kitchen. With a small voice and the most-pathetic face ever, she asked if I brought her Motrin. I explained that I was nowhere near a “real” store (first it was mall-a-palooza; then it was chilling in an apartment). And I asked, rhetorically of course, “You mean you’ve been in pain all day and didn’t do anything about it?”

So she went to her room.

This is pretty typical of the passive-aggressiveness in this house. It’s all MY fault that she spent the day in pain. Because she was too ill to go out. Or she couldn’t pull it together long enough to hit Walgreens. And I’m mean and nasty because I didn’t accommodate.

Or, let’s put this into context, shall we … she doesn’t get her driver’s license, thus providing her proof of residency in Florida, so she can get HEALTH COVERAGE. Because even though I’ve given her money for the driver’s license a million times, she doesn’t feel well and really, let’s face it, I’d bet my next paycheck that it will take me taking her to the DMV to get that damn license for her.

Look, I’m not a heinous individual. I do have sympathy.

But I was also the asshole whose gangrene-infested appendix burst when I lived alone in Virginia and I drove my own damn self to the hospital and my family NEVER visited me. I had my wisdom teeth yanked and I was the bleeding, shivering mess in the CVS, waiting for my antibiotics. I was the one with the carving knife and no turkey on Thanksgiving, with the unending hopelessness of being broke/unemployed for months (and no one left to save me), and I somehow scraped my rock-bottom, suicidal ass off the floor and fought my way back to the land of the living and working.

In other words, don’t tell ME about having problems.

And this is why she expects me to not just help, but downright BABY her. Because, as she says, I’m strong and resourceful and incorrigible. That she needs someone to fight for her.

But who the fuck fought for me? I mean, really. I’m not saying anybody owed me anything; I’m just saying that it was my drive, my ambition and, quite honestly, the friends/connections I made who got me where I am. And as I’ve been telling her for years, show me some damn spunk already. She hasn’t shown spunk since 1974 when she had me.

Get your own Motrin. Get your damn license and I’ll help you fill out the paperwork for healthcare. Get a fucking job and I’ll help you move out. Get out of my personal space and I’ll invite you into it once in a while.

What scares me is that whatever’s wrong with her is fixable. And that I’ll lose her to it, only to learn that had she only done X, she would have lived a happy and healthy life.

But she’s like the hypochondriacal woman in Key West whose epitaph reads, “I told you I was sick.” Not, “I tried everything to save myself” but, instead, “It’s everyone else’s fault.” SMH.

Anyway, as usual, way to ruin another wonderful day, lady.