Caterwauling

Subtitle: If the Underoos fit. …

I’ve come to the realization that I was never happy unless I was rebelling against something, particularly in regard to the professional world. I’ve always tried to be creative about it. From wearing tennis shoes with designer suits to smiling to people’s faces while writing poison pen letters behind their backs to smoking at my desk after hours, I was always up to something. It was like giving the mental middle finger to The Man.

The weird thing is, maybe I’ve changed or else I don’t harbor the same feelings of utter desperation in my new job. I have nothing to rebel against. And, for once in my life, I am not opposed to finding out what it might feel like to blend in.

Maybe I’ve just grown up, or maybe I’ve grown out of my need to feel like I’m getting away with something. I think it’s that I’m finally challenged to reach my potential instead of trying to burn excess creative energy. This is what happens to people who have unused potential — we dance mental circles around the masses. My friend Shan always jokes with me that people like she and I need to work at 50 percent capacity — 75 percent, on the high end — to accomplish what people working at full steam can. I suspect there are more of us out there who are afraid to admit it or who have forgotten what it was like to want to kick ass each and every day. But, people hate you when you raise the bar so high they couldn’t touch if if they walked on stilts, and they find ways to make you feel their pain.

I think that a lot of us get screwed in not having (or being able to take advantage of) opportunities to maximize our potential. Some of my friends and I are sitting on genius-level intellects and storage bins full of ideas, and we’re living some of the most nondescript lives in the world. But, think about it — if we started a think tank with everyone who reads this blog (’cause I know that you smart/funny/creative people out there feel just like I do!), we could achieve SPECTACULAR things. Revolutionary, even. With our combined forces, we could cure cancer!

However, we’ve used our superpowers to do something even more difficult … we’ve managed to hide our magnificent aptitude under the cloak of being average. We are our own Clark Kents, never donning the tights (thank god! LOL) and capes that will help us soar to where we were meant to reach. Per “their” codes, we dress up every day, we keep quiet and choose not to attract attention to ourselves, we amble along in fear of somebody expecting something of us because that means we will have to live up to everything we thought we were going to grow up to be. We could very well turn out to be heroes, and there’s no turning back after that happens.

A lot of pressure comes with being a hero. I know — I have tried it. And, while I loved it, my neck hurt from getting whacked every time I stuck it out. I learned in a very hard way that the person who fades into the background is the happiest one of all. Not saying I accept this as my fate but, rather, accept that many choose to live that way, and that doesn’t make it dishonorable. And, as a washed-up hero at 30 myself, it’s like making a hit record or two and fading into oblivion. While I relive the moments when I knew what it was like to shine, the world keeps turning and forgets, in its finite attention span, I ever existed. And after enough of that, sometimes even I wonder why I ever thought I was special … because wouldn’t I still be, then?

For those of us who forget from time to time that we are so very capable of making miracles, we realize that we have met our greatest challenge: acceptance. And, sadly, that is the wrong thing to which to aspire, yet for us, we watched “The Incredibles” and identified with the heroes-turned-nobodies that we became what those without potential wanted us to be. And when you meet somebody or somebodies who spot that spark in you and want to see you run with it and will pass you the ball for you to run with it, what will our hero do? Run, fumble, pass?

Before you answer that, just breathe for a moment and think back. When you were dancing around in your Supergirl or Batman Underoos so many moons ago, was this what you pictured you would grow up to be? There’s still time to feel that way again, if you so choose to accept this mission. …

On iTunes: Jimmy Eat World, “Work”

All you need is a hug. It’s been so long since I’ve had one, I’m to the point of dreaming about them. Last night, I dreamed that someone I haven’t seen in a ridiculously long time and hope expect to never see again just grabbed me and held me ridiclously tightly. I fought it, of course, because I am not the touchy-feely type and wasn’t about to accept anything from this long-lost figure. But, once I stopped resisting, it felt good. Really, really good.

I’ve spent my life loving my solitude, but the world is a lonely place when you don’t have anyone to come home to. No wonder I’ve embraced working ’round-the-clock the way I have … it was my only way of having something dependent upon the amount of care I could give it. But when the weekend comes, the only thing I have to wrap myself in is a fleece blanket covered with cat fur.

We all send virtual hugs to each other, and I always hug my cats (mostly Maddie because she seeks it out), but it’s high time I added “finding someone to hug me” to the to-do list. Amazing how the human body craves contact when it’s been without it for awhile.

On iTunes: Jennifer Warnes, “Right Time of the Night”

Dear Self:

Why are you freezing up? You are more than capable of this and a thousand times more. You get so scared when you’re put on the spot, and you know better than everyone that you practically have to be cattle-prodded to take an opportunity to shine. But, when you want to shine, you do. And, sometimes you shine even when that wasn’t your goal in the first place. You got this far … you simply can’t stop here. I know, your internal resources are close to running dry, but think for a second. Those resources regenerate when you’re using them. When you stop producing, stop thinking, stop dreaming and stop running, that is when the “use it or lose it” cliche comes true. A body in motion stays in motion, to overhype the cliche use this morning. 🙂 You’re finally in motion — any move you make is at least an adventure in some direction. So hop to it.

Love,
Dawn

Oh, and P.S.: That skirt you’re wearing today? So sassy and cute. I know, you wish it were denim and that pantyhose would be banned for all eternity, but you’ve sucked it up quite nicely and are personalizing your “older you” style pretty well. Rock on, lady!

On iTunes: Lindsay Lohan, “To Know Your Name”

When I turned 30 last May, I could barely say the word aloud. Thirty. Gah.

But I soon accepted it. I saw the benefits right away. I figured I’d worked very hard in my 20s — sometimes holding three or more low-wage jobs simultaneously. No one really took me seriously because of my trendy clothes, silver jewelry (and loads of it), short skirts, boobs usually a bit too exposed, cough cough ’80s hair cough cough and lack of age showing on my face. I figured I’d hit the magical age wherein people would take me seriously.

Fast forward several miserable, strife-filled months, and 30 has less energy and more wrinkles and gray hairs than I care to count. Wrinkles. Ugh. I have vowed, given ongoing financial chaos, to become a Hester Prynne of sorts — to never spend a dime on anything but bills and necessities for a long time to come — wearing my scarlet B for “broke” (or bee-yotch. Whichever!).

But the energy thing? A killer, man. Really. When I was in my early 20s, I had a hideous commute. (Via Port Authority, not driving. Ick and ugh.) Now I spend the same amount of time (but, this time, going 32 miles each way) en route, and at least I have my CDs and crappy a.m. talk radio. But I’m exhausted! And, upon further examination of the wardrobe, holy shit. No wonder those in “authority” (I still sneer at that word when I remember some people from my past — can’t help it!) used to look down their pointy little noses at me. I was the corporate hoochie, many days. 🙂 Hoo boy, someone needs an extreme makeover … and soon!

That outer makeover is going to take some time (read: thawing out from my debt avalanche comes first). However, there’s some work I must start doing on the inside, and that’s making sure I have the capability to make it through a day with, if not an abundance of energy, then “just enough” to still be OK at the end of the day.

I was talking to John recently about routines. Respectively, we used to have set “self” time (get yer mind outta the gutter, although admittedly, that kind of “date with ourselves” is definitely the best use of time ever!) for ourselves — even if it was as simple as a pizza/movie night kind of deal. And, I realized how much I used to abhor routine. There was a time in which I loved changes of plans and calls out of the blue, directing me to get dolled up and be ready in a flash. I could so totally do that … at one time. And, granted, I would love nothing more than to spend some quality time away from the apartment that has literally been my prison these past few months. But, my energy reserves are just depleted these days. The value of routines and schedules, I am finding now in my “old age,” is to ensure that we have enough momentum to get us through the times when we need it.

For me, that means no more staying up till 2 a.m., watching crap TV and typing really bad fiction on my beloved G4. No more hanging out on iChat (well, not as much as I would like) because I don’t have the wherewithal to have a conversation and actually accomplish something simultaneously. No more getting upset in the mornings because traffic blows (well, not getting too bent out of shape!) because I have to somehow make it through an entire day and an evening commute without having colleagues seeing the stress monkey I can become. That means streamlining a whole bunch … that means priority-setting. And, the No. 1 priority? Me. Plain and simple — I am the best date I’ve ever had, and I need to spend some time making me feel as special as I know I am, damn it. 😉

Bottom line, there’s only so much vim and vigor to go around when you start climbing up the hill you will eventually keel get over. A friend once warned me that your body goes to shit when you hit that third decade. Perhaps I’ve just had a harder year than most, but I’m definitely feeling my age, in any event. And, I’m certainly looking it!

My one big goal this year (other than the obvious, which I have finally achieved! Yeah!) was to actually find/cultivate/keep a functional relationship. But, it will be another challenge — one for which I am not completely ready at this particular moment — to carve out the energy (and time, but don’t get me started on that precious commodity just yet!) to make that happen. But, alas, despite my youthful distaste of the almighty routine, I am starting to see not only the value, but also the necessity, of knowing when I need to be “on” and when I can simply hit the snooze button and recharge. I look forward to finally finding my groove. 🙂

On iTunes: The Exies, “Ugly”

1. Ever notice how the only people who use the phrase “President Bush” were the ones who voted for him?

2. Of 17 turn signals I witnessed being used during the a.m. commute, 16 were used by me. The 17th? Some jackass who flipped on the “right” blinker and cut me off by merging “left.” Fucking asshat.

3. After months without it, I’ve had a faint sense of deja vu during the day. This is fantastic — it means I am in the right place at the right time. Which means my life will eventually be on track, right? Woo hoo?

4. Ever have a rantabulous diatribe just bubbling beneath the surface and know that if you so much as opened your mouth (or a “new blog” post), you will regret it? Or, worse, you don’t give a shit about potential reactions because you’re just fucking exhausted with always being the one who gets hurt and want to share the pain? While, in the long run, I am always glad to be the better person, sometimes I just want to kick ass, take names and let out a barbaric yawp.

5. Steelers loss = broken heart. The only thing I hate worse than the Patriots are their fans. (Minus you, Scott, of course!) HOW COULD YOU LOSE THE PLAYOFF GAME?!?!?!! I’d set fire to my “Go Pittsburgh” magnetic ribbon if the cold hadn’t soldered it to my back bumper!

On iTunes: Low Millions, “Eleanor”

I’ve been away from the ‘Net for a week, and oh my the fun things we find when we’re bored shitless because our car is hiding beneath an icy white blanket of wonder:

For lack of the living-and-breathing variety at the moment, I SO want one of these. (NSFW) And, boys, here’s a testimonial on a version for you!

Newly added to the blogroll: Rude Pundit, particularly because of this entry. (See if you don’t get Bonnie Tyler’s “Holding Out for a Hero” in your head like I did!) Also newly added is Overworked & Underf*cked — go visit her letters to ex-lovers and nod in agreement! And not bookmarked but certainly related, this Craig’s List letter details just when your ex gets too boring to stalk.

From some of the beloved existing blogrollers: Rue says Bush called us assholes, Pratt has eight inches (of snow, you pervs! LOL), Amalah turns heartbreak into entertainment as the funniest unpregnant gal around, Erica tells us what we need to do before Bush outlaws it, and Lachlan and Bayou experience the chaos of moving and not having a working toilet. Gah.

I’ve got a LOT more blogs to read (thank you NetNewsWireLite as well as those of you who set up feeds!), so I appreciate your giving me some amusement on this frosty little day! 😀

And, in television news (cough cough I fucking hate not having cable cough cough), I have at least found a few new reasons to wish for a light evening commute: Medium, Point Pleasant and, of course, my magical addiction known as American Idol. In regard to the latter, may the good people not be booted off this year and leave us with crap to choose from in the end.

On iTunes: Breaking Benjamin, “Sooner or Later”

From the “the more things change, the more they stay the same” files:

Let it be said right away that things are working out exactly as they need to. Just because you wait a long time for something, though, doesn’t mean things stop being hard. But some things are better, too, and the balance just shifts a bit. It’s a matter of finding the *right* combination of what not-so-great-things you can live with and what you really want and need. And I’m finding that I think the not-so-hot stuff isn’t so bad and that those are factors I can either adjust or just accept. This is Good.

But the reason I started this entry and named it what I did is in reference to something funny that happened, even if only in my mind. The thing is, you can change your location, but the same “people” are there with you — they just have different names and faces. Someone came to talk to me yesterday, and he does the same thing and even looks like someone I knew in Pittsburgh. And I had one of those heart-attack-in-the-making moments. Why? Because I remembered the person who I met first — a person, in many ways, I had done wrong on a personal level. And it occurred to me that I had not lost the lessons I had learned so long ago, so I resolved to not get into that situation again, should opportunity ever arise. Not that it should, but again, my white-as-a-ghost moments usually make for my best introspective times.

In any event, I am a stress monkey right now. I have a lot of outstanding details and things out of my control in my life, and it’s killing me. But I am trying to regain my former inner Zen and remember that, sometimes, having no answer is better than having an answer that is just going to cause more grief. I know I have a looonnnng road ahead that involves fixing a lot of things gone awry before I can ever feel like I’ve gotten on track, but I really hope to look back and to be grateful that I was able to identify what went wrong and to have the opportunity to make things right.

I s’pose I fall victim to wondering “Why Me?” more often than not — like, why does everything have to be a struggle? Why do I hit 14 roadblocks in the same half-mile stretch when I see others sailing by with nary a pothole to try to avoid? I think we all feel that way, though. And maybe the lesson in temptation is that we have to realize that sure, we can have a little bit of pleasure while we’re feeling so much pain but, inevitably, that just becomes one more mess that we have to unravel. So it’s best to not even “go there” at all.

On iTunes: Anna Nalick, “Breathe”

Watching Shrubya vow to protect the Constitution (on the 11 p.m. news) is wildly funny to me. I’m sure he also reserves the right to whack off to two girls getting it on, but if those two girls want to get married, then that means wasting more dollars pushing more useless legislation. Like Bill says, words mean what we want them to.

Unrelated, I got an invitation to join a conservative group. HAH. Bloody fucking HAH. Not to say I’ve never voted conservatively, because I sure have. But not this time ’round, and I’m pretty touchy right now about what this country could and should be doing for its own people, and not just the more fortunate ones. And I just don’t look good in a bowtie. 😉

In better news, I was listening to Elliot this morning, and he mentioned that Jon Stewart’s name is being kicked around to replace Dan Rather on CBS. Is this for real? I grinned for miles after I heard that! Elliot said that if CBS is going to release fake news, then at least they’d have an anchor to inject the humor in the broadcast. 😀

On iTunes: Bunch of Drunken Irishmen, “Fuck You I’m Drunk”