In which spending an hour trying to park is completely reasonable

July 21st, 2005, 9:19 PM by Dawn

You know I need a drink BADLY when I spend an hour driving around Adam’s Morgan — like I did last night — just to take my happy ass out for some libations at Felix to help celebrate Metblogs’ first birthday in the upstairs Zipper Lounge. I wasn’t wild about the Cosmo, but the “e’lixir”? Mmm, mmm goooooddddddd. …

The only reason (other than temporary insanity) that I thought driving around and then just paying way too much to park in a shitty garage was all because Tiff promised CakeLove. 😉 Well, that and I totally had the perfect outfit to wear:

If you want beautiful boy bloggers to look at your boobs, girls, this is the shirt to wear! 😉 I might just have to wear this more often. 😉

For photos of the event (instead of my tired, cranky self), visit Tom’s photostream here. And other resident bloggers, hope to see ya at the next one!

On iTunes: Iio, “Rapture”



All about moi, this week’s edition

July 20th, 2005, 6:07 PM by Dawn

But before I get started:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRATT!!!!!

And now, for Reader Poll day.

1. How many keys are on your keychain?
Which one? I had to break them out into two because I was having car trouble that was specifically traced back to having too many freakin’ keys weighing the steering wheel down. The main one has four keys — two keys for the apartment and two for the car (one for the locks, another for the Club).

2. What are your favorite pizza toppings?
The more cheese, the merrier. Then maybe chicken and pepperoni tie for second place. And ranch dressing for the crusts. God, damn I’m hungry. …

3. How did you first learn about the birds and the bees?
OH GOOD GOD. In middle school, the school hosted a “presentation night” on the subject for students and parents. I kind of wanted to go, ’cause my mom was young and cool and all that. But then my GRANDFATHER INSISTED on coming. I was mortified. Mor-ti-FIED. I was under my chair when they started talking about the proper way for a woman to wipe herself after using the bathroom — the horror on my grandfather’s face totally did me in.

But I did learn about a company that produced really cool pamphlets that involved a story about three friends (pen pals) coming of age around the same time, and I asked Mom to order those (which she did), and those were fantastic. I think I still have them somewhere — I might give ’em to my niece when she’s old enough.

In any event, I do have the filthiest sense of humor of anyone I know. Not that I have, oh, ANY use for it these days, but I can make a slur out of anything. 😉

4. Are you a Harry Potter reader?
Nah. I’ve gotten away from reading books. Not that I’ve given up BUYING them — I just have the attention span of a gnat and can only function in a magazine-tidbit/headline-feed kind of world.

5. You’ve just won a 3-week vacation, which option do you pick: a cruise and a resort stay, or an adventure trip through the Amazon?
Cruise/resort. Yes, I know I stare at walls all day and want to be outside more, but I can do that from a shuffleboard deck. Besides, I love being near water. And for that matter, near a shower, hot tub, and OH YEAH a real bed!

6. If forced to choose, would you rather eat a bowl full of live cockroaches or a bowl full of cat puke?
Depends on whether the cat puke is just freshly tossed food or whether it’s got that acrid stomach acid scent to it that stains the carpets. I just inherited a big red carpet stain from Miss Molly that will not come out, no matter what I do to treat it.

7. Have you ever been arrested?
Not under this name. 😉 LOL. Seriously, no.

8. Where do you see yourself living and what do you see yourself doing 5 years from now?
I don’t hate living in Northern Virginia. I’ve come to even like my commute for the sheer fact that I am outdoors and in the sunshine and such, although I did tell a Lexus driver to “Drive off a cliff, fucknut!” this morning. Damn Maryland drivers.

The timing of this question is kind of good because I’ve been asking myself the same thing. I am happy doing what I’m doing and where I’m doing it. But I expect to ascend in level of responsibility. At this point, most of my waking time revolves around working or schlepping to and from it. I just turned down another freelance project, so I guess I should give up the prospect of additional money (it’s my own fault — I cannot for the life of me fathom looking at a computer when I get home at night or on weekends, because I like to go out and shop and just otherwise not be at home). Which is fine — I’m happy to focus on one adventure, just so long as it continues to be worth my while to do so.

9. Have you ever asked for a raise? How? Did you get it?
BAHAHAHAHAHA. Of course I have — I worked for a non-profit for three years making $18K/year with NO RAISES. I bitched left right up and down about it, too. Finally, after being told to suck it up and deal with it (my supervisor, I called her Miss Piss — I trained her to do her job and she was making four times my salary). I’d asked for a promotion, but just to spite me (I kid — it was “budgetary” according to the asswads up above), they cut out the open position that had been above me.

The irony? I found a job paying a LOT more than what I was making — I was reporting to the CEO and CFO at the new place, to boot — and when Miss Piss got my resignation, she begged me to stay and suddenly coughed up a $10K raise. I LAUGHED IN HER FACE. I asked where the fuck that money was during the previous three years, because I LOVED my job and it was costing me money to work there (let’s look at my still-screwed-up finances that started unraveling while I worked there, and I didn’t even have a CAR then).

10. Ask me a question.
So, are you and Erica gonna be on “The Amazing Race”? Will we get to see your audition tapes? I am so PSYCHED about this!!!

On iTunes: 50 Cent, “Just a Little Bit”



Functioning on faith

July 19th, 2005, 8:21 PM by Dawn

It’s not that I’ve had nothing to say for the past week but, rather, that I had TOO MUCH on my mind. And to permanently kill my (passing) state of being a puddle of pissed off, I thought I’d do my usual bit of going through some growing pains and actually learning something. And I did.

But first, TMI
The women of the D.C. region must all have killer Kegel muscles. When you’re in twice-daily traffic like I am, damn it, you gots to do SOMETHING. Hell, I could probably cut off someone’s oxygen supply without even having to use my hands!

At least I didn’t tell you that I got away without wearing a bra for the past two days. Wait — oops. 😉

Ahem.

Coping mechanisms
I don’t mean to imply with “faith” in the title that I’m some Jesus freak or Bible-thumper. What I mean is that no matter how hard it is to do, we have to keep reminding ourselves that there might just, in fact, be a reason for all the stuff we view as bullshit at the time. And fundamentally, it probably IS bullshit — or, at least, a bad feeling you don’t deserve — but you can rise above it. You have to.

Many people are inclined to throw bullshit back at the dishee. My personal immediate reaction to inadvertent bullshit ingestion is to want to vent. Bitching, blogging, shopping, screaming, cleaning, driving too fast, breaking shit. Notice I said it’s what I WANT to do. And, let’s call a spade a spade here — when I did all of that, who got/gets hurt the worst? Indeed — moi.

My second reaction — and it’s the reaction that typically prevails — is to collapse into a state of passivity. Note the word “cleaning” in the list of reactions above — the madder I get, the cleaner my house is. It’s a trait I’ve garnered from my mom — after she and my evil asshat stepfather used to fight, the house got scrubbed — not like she ever let a speck of dust land in the first place. I’m not so anal-retentive about cleaning (Christ, the woman PRE-cleans! The hell?!?!) — I’m a clean person but I allow the place to get messy when life’s too busy to prioritize making the ceilings sparkle.

Cleaning aside, I typically ruminate. If I don’t have balls enough to address the problem directly (or approach the person(s) who need to be approached about it), then I shut down. When I — how shall we say — re-entered the living world not so long ago, I kept to myself. I was afraid to stand out, for fear that everything I’d worked so hard to overcome would show through my already-translucent skin. Moreover, I was terrified that what I’d worked so hard FOR would be taken away.

That, and let’s not discuss martyrdom. You can’t take something away from me if I deprive myself of it first. Of course, who’s the one who has to live the life without sunlight? Exactly. There is no substitute for the things you love. But sometimes feeling pain at least, well, keeps you feeling. I will never succumb to numbness, I promise you that.

I’m not saying what I do is *right.* I don’t even mean to imply that it actually *works.* All I’m saying is that people like me hope that things will blow over without incident — people like me end up cleaning up what other, more volatile people have ravaged, and I guess we don’t want innocent people to step in the shards of glass from the hurricanes of hysteria that we were once upon a time called in to contain.

And it’s sobering, really, how fragile everything is. And how fragile you become after one really good fuckup. Some days, you find that all you can do is rely on your faith in yourself and in the power of all things good to get you through and spare you from further insanity — at least, until you have healed. Like you ever will, really.

But if you’re gonna fuck up, might as well do it all at once and get it out of your system, right?

Generating karma whenever possible
Look, I’m all goddess-y and whatnot, but I will never, ever inappropriately point fingers or place blame elsewhere. In fact, I’m way more likely to find ways to — if not outright make things my fault — get into the groove of thinking about how I could have articulated myself or behaved better. And again with coping mechanisms that might work-but-not, I’m quick to apologize to keep the peace. Damn non-confrontational Gemini trait, I swear.

Not that I don’t hold people accountable, but I am willing to get on with the rest of my life more than I am hellbent on proving myself right. Of course, getting myself to be understood is another way of being “right” that I find equally satisfying. Which is why I work very hard to figure out people’s motivations — it’s easy to NOT be able to see a person’s point of view unless you somehow get behind their eyes.

Of course, it’s just as easy to not WANT to because you aren’t sure whether they’d do it for you. But that part doesn’t matter — you’ve got to take every opportunity that ever crosses your path to generate good karma. Even when it feels like it would kill you. Because it wouldn’t kill you to get practice at being a good person. It’s not like the Easter Catholics who just go to church on major religious holidays — it doesn’t make you a good Christian because you go to church. Being a good citizen every day of your life is what makes you beyond reproach and, ultimately, even more of a sympathetic character. Caring comes pretty easily — I just wish more people would hone that particular skill.

Functioning with expectations
This is a foreign concept to me, but let me take a stab at it anyway. I find that if somebody/something gets under my skin, it means they’re deeper in my heart than I’d previously thought. I can give a million examples of people I used to know, of whom I never had high expectations. Or any expectations, for that matter — unless it involved me bracing myself the next thing they were going to do that would result in me being recruited to serve as their clean-up crew, hostage negotiator, warden, etc. I mean, it’s not that I’d ever in a million years settle for tolerating someone else’s mediocrity — see the schtick above about keeping the peace at any cost– there have been people to whom I’ve said “no” so many times, although it resulted in me being outright harassed until I budged and grudgingly performed the latest in a line of favors that were somehow never reciprocated — not that I really ever asked. But I digress — I never did favors to get favors.

And in my personal evolution, I’ve thinned out the herd to eliminate that set — budging involved budgeting my emotions and time. And now I have expectations of Everybody and Everything in my life. And I function well within expecations in my own right, although I do admit I love blowing people away who have no expectations, ’cause they just aren’t used to being so damn dazzled. 😉

In any event, when people are deeper under your skin and in your heart than you’d anticipated, the surprise is a pleasant one, sure, but it also means they can hurt you more easily. Even if they don’t mean to. And a completely different person could say or do the same thing, and it wouldn’t faze you half as much, but because those special people practically walk on water, you get taken aback. And you wonder when you started really, truly being affected by them — how did they penetrate that barrier that you constructed so architecturally sound and breathtaking?

It reminds me of a C.S. Lewis quote — one I can recite by heart because I used to keep it framed in my dorm room: “Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give it to no one — not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

This is where faith steps in — you can never guarantee that you won’t be wounded again. But you can always heal — no matter how out-of-reach it seems. And those amazing people who are surrounding you just might be the ones dazzling YOU next time around … if you give them the chance. Pleasantly, you don’t have any doubt that they will … and that they will WANT to do so. And you will know that you deserve it, although the truly humble among us will always know how lucky we are. …

On iTunes: Shakedown, “At Night (Afterlife Remix)”



When Judy Met Lil’ Kim

July 18th, 2005, 9:28 AM by Dawn

A one-act play by Mo Rocca. Nice. 🙂 I’m just glad he’s envisioning them sharing a jail cell and talking, not pillow-fighting. 😉

On iTunes: Black Eyed Peas, “Don’t Phunk With My Heart”



Squee!

July 17th, 2005, 5:34 PM by Dawn

Meet my nephew Jordan, the newest little ladies’ man on the block:

Shan and I were talking today, and I had asked what he looked like (before I saw the pic). She said it was puzzling — he has blond hair and, well, it’s not like she or John are fair-haired (to say the least!). In fact, she said, “Dawn, he’s got YOUR coloring — everyone’s a bit curious about how THAT happened!”

In any event, they got to take him home last night, and big sis Alexandria got to see him in the hospital. (She’s staying with Shan’s parents for the time being.) Shan said Alex kissed him on the cheek and gave him Eskimo kisses and was pretty cool with him.

Heh. Just wait till she comes back home and sees him after she’d SWORN she’d left him at the hospital — if her 2-year-old mind could figure out a way to have Aunt Dawn come and rescue her, I’ll bet I’d be getting a call!



Code dumbass

July 16th, 2005, 11:34 PM by Dawn

Today was “emergency retail therapy day” in my world. That, and “let’s rearrange the furniture.” Coping mechanisms, friends.

Anyway, I was in a major store and an employee came over the loudspeaker. She mistakenly said, “Attention customers” and had to amend it to “Attention staff.” She went on to say that there was a Code 99 in one of the departments and that she needed a team to respond. A few minutes later, she repeated her page.

A few more minutes went by before she got back on and said, “Come on, people. Code 99! (*heavy sigh*) Orange shirt, blue shorts — GO!!!”

I had a mild moment of disorientation, as I was wearing a creamsicle-colored shirt and denim shorts, but alas, I wasn’t shoplifting anything, so I knew I was in the clear. But boy, was THAT weird — I saw some other customers looking at me strangely, not that I even had anything in my hands at that point!

The voice came on again to say that the “Code 99” had moved on to another department. I was tempted to run to that department and confuse people. 🙂

In any event, it was also “acquire scandalous underwear day.” And speaking of inept store workers, I’d commented on them (I can’t quite remember the adjective) and the girl had said, “That’s not a word I hear used every day.” I looked at her strangely and said, “Well, I’d thought it was infinitely more appropriate than ‘Gee, these are going to look GREAT on the bedroom floor!'”

That’s how you buy underwear, in my world. Throw it on the floor and admire it. If it looks good there, it gets to go home with you. And only you are the one who knows whether someone else is going to be the one to put it there! 😉

On iTunes: Green Day, “Holiday”



One of those days

July 15th, 2005, 8:07 AM by Dawn

Seen at Erica’s:

On iTunes: DJ Sammy, “Sunlight”



‘Wehadababyitsaboy!’*

July 14th, 2005, 5:26 PM by Dawn

Updated

Welcome Jordan Alexander to the world! He was born at 11:59 a.m. PST.

The lil slugger came out at 6 lb., 5 oz. and 19.5″ long. Looks just like his big sister, according to his very happy dad, and his sister totally takes after their mom. But, alas, I understand the little one “is packing,” so I understand to mean that he takes after his dad! 😉

Shan and John both sound fantastic, and I miss them desperately and wish I were there with them. Stupid time difference. 😉 Anyway, Jordan was born at 8 months’ gestation and will luckily NOT need to be in the NICU like his sister was (she came at 7 months and was 4 lb., 11 oz.).

In any event, I will be insane until I get photos, so John, make it happen! 🙂

And yes, looking at the phone WILL will the thing to ring — I walked outside, had the phone in my hand and wished John would call, and he DID — right at that very second!

Everyone’s happy and healthy, and that’s all I need to know. And nobody or nothing is going to steal this joy from me.

*Title from the old collect-call commerical where the guy makes the birth announcement instead of giving his name and hangs up so nobody has to pay for the call.



Pins and needles …

July 14th, 2005, 2:57 PM by Dawn

My best friend is in the hospital right now, about to give birth. I am excited and know everything’s going to be fine, even though the little one is almost a month early.

In any event, I’m No. 2 on the “to-call” list (after her dad), so the phone is soldered to my palm, ’cause the call could come at any time now! Squee!

And if the postal service did not screw up, there is a package waiting on their doorstep, full of goodies for the happy parents, the wee one and their 2-year-old daughter — whose birth I WAS present for.

Do you think staring at the phone a little harder will actually will it to ring?

On iTunes: JoJo, “Leave”



The ‘mistress protection program’

July 12th, 2005, 8:54 PM by Dawn

Hang onto your husbands, girls! I’m back!” — Gilly Owens, “Practical Magic”

In his HBO special “Never Scared,” Chris Rock does this great bit on why he doesn’t cheat — because then he’d have to put the women in the “mistress protection plan” else risk getting killed by his wife.

It’s funny. I laughed. But it got me to thinking about a lot of the women (and men) in my life who have decided to date someone who’s married or otherwise spoken for. And while I’d never consider myself completely innocent in this realm, I’ve done the equivalent in just dating losers in general. (See “asshats who only call ON holidays if they’re available” and/or “can you call at some time OTHER than 2 a.m.?”)

Bottom line — what makes otherwise sane, relatively (at least) attractive, interesting, rational and even intellectual people choose to Waste. Their. Time. with losers?!?!

I have spent most of my life being single (see Exhibit A: putting up with idiots mentioned above) and have had quite the love/hate relationship with my status. Ultimately, I declare that I want to be a partner and not a Good Samaritan. And it makes for a lot of lonely nights, albeit peaceful ones. Unless I start obsessing about what’s wrong with me, and that, my loves, is a whole ‘nother blog entry. 😉

In any event, lately I’ve started to “get” my friends’ motivations in being with married men. Disclaimer: I don’t condone it, nor do I WANT that for me (or for THEM). But I understand that, after you’ve been alone just long enough, you start to wonder if it’s so bad to want to have some company, now and again. Even if it’s unpredictable, brief and, hell, insincere. Just as long as it exists.

I had a dear, dear friend who just couldn’t get rid of the married-guy syndrome. We were both — how shall we say it … oh, yeah — FAG HAGS, so meeting straight men? Not real easy. We tended to gravitate toward the first guys we met whose belt DIDN’T coordinate with his wallet and shoes (yay, straighties!). Hell, knowing they had a girlfriend/wife was proof that they weren’t either outright gay or just looking for the last girl they would ever kiss — we convinced a LOT of men that they were gay. Go, us! LOL — Talk about a big fat bucket of SUCK, in all senses!

Anyway, I watched her — and a lot of my friends — get wrapped up into promises of “He really cares about me — he thinks we’re soulmates!” “His wife doesn’t even sleep with him!” “He’s only staying for the kids!” “He says he really loves me!”

Barf. Gag. Blech. Hold-my-hair-back-while-I-puke.

But these girls didn’t start out believing that crap. They started out skeptical, detached, blase. They decided, “I’m only in it for no-strings-attached good times. I’m not getting involved.”

But they did. One after the other — with exception, of course. Those who were smart enough to get out early escaped with just a dirty feeling and a determination to do good deeds, lest Karma come back and treat them the same way the wives of these men were being deceived.

I admit that I had a HUGE crush on a married guy once. And there was something special in the way we related to each other as colleagues and friends. There was a rapport, a gentleness, a flirtation — however subtle, it was there. But it never advanced. His marriage was a good one — he went on to have beautiful children and a great new home. Had I (or, for that matter, he) been a lesser person (or braver — we’re still not sure yet), who only knows what would’ve happened. But we weren’t. He’s still happy and I’m still single. And it’s OK, really — if there was anything that I learned, it was that we have multiple soulmates. I believe we have people with whom we travel through our various lives, and when we see each other again, it feels familiar, cozy, warm and just plain good. So we take it where we can get it, however ephemeral the high might be.

But I’ve digressed. I don’t mean to imply that people who knowingly act as homewreckers feel like there’s some spiritual divination that puts them into — and keeps them trapped in — that kind of crazy situation. But it does speak to the lies we are capable of telling each other and ourselves when we want something or someone.

Fundamentally, I half-wonder if these folks aren’t simply in love with the idea of having someone — even if it’s only on a part-time basis — instead of having no one and seemingly nothing at all. I mean, I have watched super-strong women — feminists, even — turn into quivering masses of goo over a covertly made phone call from the guy when his wife was giving the kids a bath. I’ve seen these same women exhibit murderous rage that these supposedly useless wives continued to exist. And I’ve always wanted to ask them whether the men were single and free to be with them, would they actually really WANT them. Because, you know, even in the RARE occasion that they do leave like they keep promising, are they going to show up on your doorstep for anything other than a place to crash until they can get on their feet and run for daylight?

What brings all this to mind was a half-assed date with someone (who swore he wasn’t married) who basically made it clear that I was supposed to be “on call” for whenever he had free time or whenever he was in the mood. The type to call and say “meet me here” or “hey it’s a holiday, what are you up to” — the type who would NEVER plan something in advance, nor enjoy getting dressed up (or cleaned up, for that matter) just to impress me. Now, I’m not saying I need to be taken to the Kennedy Center or to other upscale places in society (although I WOULD like to get there at SOME point!), but for Christ’s sake, scrub your butt at the very least before you’re in my presence! I like attractive, clean, CLASSY men. It takes a LOT for me to storm out on a date and not look back — and that did it.

It’s not a quirk — all girls are like that. Hell, I dated a guy in college who thought he could drop by after work all the time. No way, bud — I told him he needed to go home and shower first. Because I was putting in effort for him — I’d wanted to be fresh and pretty and in an outfit that looked good/made me feel good. I didn’t want a slob because then I would feel the inclination to be slobbish, and that is NOT in my personality. Ultimately, I am well-prepared to treat someone like they are special — and I fully expect reciprocation. Period, end of story. No negotiating on that one.

I wonder whatever happened to some of these friends from my past. I mean, hey, if it’s true love and they can eventually end up with these guys that they adored so much, then more power to them. I’m a romantic at heart — I want people to get the things that would make them happy. But, moreover, I hope they came to their senses before it was too late and they lost all remnants of self-esteem and expectations and dreams and aspirations of attracting someone who was actually worthy of all they had to give.

And it’s not just them — all of us who ever put up with less than we deserved (or who were ever asked or expected to put up with a whole lottta nothing special), I hope that we find that seemingly elusive path to happiness and that we meet someone along the way who will make the journey more like having a jolly little road trip rather than walking the green mile.

And everyone who’s not worthy of the journey? Kick ’em to the curb — ’cause those high-quality boys (that we REALLY want to attract!) don’t make passes at girls who put up with conniving, useless, lazy motherfuckin’ ASSES!

On iTunes: Goldfrapp, “Silver Rain Fell”