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!!!

Broad Street, Philly

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

So my beloved L and I made reservations at Lola last night.

And although DaDa will always be “our” place, Lola is a very close second in our eyes.

Of course, anywhere that we can order cheese for every course is A-OK by us!

She said there was something different about me last night. I was relaxed in a way I simply haven’t been during the six months she’s been in town.

We attribute it to Philadelphia. I mean, why not, right?

Maybe it’s bigger than that. I really am relaxed about a lot of things right now. When we met, I was in a job that felt about as comfortable as shoving a grown-up size 8 foot into a baby shoe with brute force.

And turning 36 last month wasn’t a huge deal for me, but whereas other people’s biological clocks start to tick, my “my life is half over and what do I have to show for it?” station started to play on my internal clock-radio.

But what I didn’t realize as I was trying to hit “snooze” with a hammer and the song kept playing louder and louder, was that I had experienced way more than I gave myself credit for. And it took going away to see that.

I always felt kind of stunted when it came to matters of the heart. I made a good career and as good a life as I could. But I always felt that I never managed to love or be loved.

And while, one one hand, that’s life … on the other hand, it’s like how can such a reasonably intelligent individual have failed at what some of the stupidest people on earth have found?

And with just a couple of days, the vortex of confusion and self-pity in my head has calmed down considerably. I’ve realized I didn’t just “almost” have it all. I’ve had everything and then some … and perhaps I’ve had it even better than the people who claim they have it better than anyone else.

What I’ve had may have been brief, but it’s been real.

And unlike a certain boy that L used to know, I have far from peaked. He’s wasted every chance and ruined every life that he’s come across. So now he’s in search of the meaning of life in New Age hocus-pocus. (Good luck in that month-long sweat lodge visit where you’re staring at corpulent men in tiny towels. I’m sure THAT will fix your broken soul. *snort*)

It’s in talking with my friends and finding about the douchenozzles they’ve encountered that makes me doubly blessed A) to have such wonderful, worldly friends, and B) that I don’t think I’ve ever actually felt my time was wasted by anyone I’ve loved or been loved by.

So, the calmness you see might be alcohol-induced at times. But it’s mostly a general peace now that the universe hasn’t been withholding anything from me and that the best is truly yet to come … and that all I have to do is be on alert to look out for it when it comes, and be open to receiving it.

Nasdaq/OMX — Philadelphia Stock Exchange

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I spent the last four days in the Philadelphia/South Jersey area. I fell in love with the city proper. Had a decent steak (and a horrible bottle of wine, which was my own fault for *only* wanting to pay $60 for the A-to-Z) at Butcher & Singer.

(But the community hash brown? Best thing on the table!)

Off topic, the fake palm trees at B&S? Made me miss my real ones. I’m on the plane heading back to them now. …

But the culinary highlights were found going to and from the Liberty Bell, as we allotted Friday morning for touron activities before I drove her to the airport.

I got to a Corner Bakery (God, I’ve missed those!) where my friend bought me a cinnamon crème cake slice, as I’d been yapping about it ever since I introduced her to Elephant & Castle for breakfast. (Double NOM.) And I bought her a mojito lemonade at Cosi (another place I CRAVE) while I got to try their new sangria. (*slurp*)

Then I met up with a long-lost friend and we hightailed it to the Atlantic City area, where another great friend invited us to hang out with him by the shore for the weekend.

He recommended the Ocean Holiday Motor Lodge. My skin crawled at the name as my friend typed the phone number into my iPad as I took the call on the boardwalk (which had outstanding pizza at Mack’s and a top-notch mango-orange smoothie).

I realize all I do is talk about food, which explains why the re-pudgification process is under way. But my AC-resident friend loaded us up with bottles of extraordinary wine on Friday and Saturday nights, and cooked scallops (for me!) and filet mignons on his new searer on Saturday. It was extraordinary.

He recommended McGlade’s on the Pier in Cape May for breakfast today, on the promise of “You have GOT to try cream cheese on your omelets. You will NEVER go back!”

So I treated my friend to a father’s day brunch at this omelet mecca. And holy shit, my asparagus, crabmeat and cream cheese omelet provided a religious experience that totally excused my lack of going to church today. Nom. ;9

The weekend was fairly extraordinary. I met both of my boys’ families. I always love seeing people in their “natural habitat.” And I also love being someone else for the weekend, myself.

Or maybe instead of saying that I pretend to be someone else, perhaps it’s that I actually AM myself on these weekend expeditions.

I had an incredible business meeting on Thursday in the city and met an incredibly dynamic power player in my field. Who wants to work with me.

It always impresses me when I don’t outright offend people, but he took me and my female friend out for drinks in the French Quarter area in several places.

(Most memorably, the rooftop bar at the Continental – divine!) And he is best buds with the guy I came to visit in AC, so that didn’t hurt my credibility in the least.

Sometimes I feel like Kevin Bacon, with the six degrees of separation that’s going on in my world. But that would be bacon with cream cheese, like my friend’s omelet. I didn’t try it but damn, it looked good!

(It always comes back to the food. Keeps me from typing anything I shouldn’t!)

I’ll just say it was a wonderful four days that I won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

While I was driving through Jersey today where I had a rare “stop and wonder” moment. And we joked that there really was one way in this world that my mother would NOT have been able to come and live with me. And that I can totally blame him for it.

But alas, perhaps life – warts and all – happened the way it was supposed to. I’d never have gotten to D.C. … or Florida … or come up to visit my friend at the Nasdaq or the one in AC because I never would have met any of them if I weren’t on this particular path.

And I don’t know that I’d be as whole or at least functional as I am now, had I not gotten some sun and some perspective. Maybe I would have just found a different type of happiness.

But almost 10 years later, there’s still happiness to be found, right where I wasn’t even looking for it.

Imagine all the magic we’d find if we actually kept an eye out for it. But damn, it’s nice to see it (again), hold on to it and squeeze out every last drop.

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!