Caterwauling

So I have this guy who likes to text and call. And I like to toss the phone across the room.

I don’t have a reaction to him. Just the whole communicating thing.

Like, it’s already a foregone conclusion in my mind that whether he turns out to be a friend or boyfriend, he’ll just fucking ruin my peace and be a mistake like every other person I’ve ever met has been.

I mean, there IS this thing in my head that what if he isn’t. You know? What if he’s the guy I’ve waited my whole life for? The guy who takes me around the world and worships the very ground this goddess walks on?

Of course, I got a fright the other day when he told me he can’t wait to see my beautiful blue eyes in person. Um, what?

I said you got the wrong girl. They’re green.

Not 30 seconds later, he produces the photo I had sent to him when he still worked at Weiss, to edit for the website.

That version of the photo is NOT on the website. HE FUCKING KEPT IT.

I mean, maybe there’s something romantic and poetic in all this. But I think of how fucking Psychofag, Scoots and Cuntbreath cannot stop fucking following me around after all these years. Do I really need another stalker?

I’m back to ignoring him and he’s back to trying to get me to talk again. The last time I went dark, I said I was over people and work and I put my phone in my car for extended periods sometimes.

I think it’s more that I think back to 2019, when I figured I wouldn’t get hurt since I didn’t have any feelings. But it turned out I got very hurt and those feelings hit me like a ton of bricks the day after the plug was pulled.

Like, what good did all that do me? I gained another fucking stalker out of it. His bitch face wife became more enamored with me than he ever was, and that’s saying something.

What kills me is I’ve spent more time agonizing over all this for nothing. Just say hi back to the poor guy, Dawn. Would it kill you to be nice to someone who is taking time out of their life to pursue you the way you deserve to be pursued?

Yes, actually, maybe it would kill me.

I got a bunch of notifications overnight from Blogger, telling me that my posts have been moved behind a wall because they are so offensive.

The posts are from 2004. They are quotes from my mom, answers to old Friday Five surveys, stories about my vibrator selling days, etc.

I mean, it’s aggravating enough that Zuckerberg keeps putting mom in Facebook jail for memes she posted three to five years ago. But this is goddamn ridiculous.

I just heard yesterday that internet providers are getting threatened by our christo-fascist government if they continue to let people access information about abortion. Are the Nutzis trying to ban cussing and sex too?

It’s been a beautiful few days without Heifer. Who may be reigning in hell this week or something. Don’t know or care.

Heard that name at a meeting yesterday. Apparently someone proposed to this beast. And everyone rejoiced.

Except me. I don’t wish ill on anyone but you are never going to catch me wishing someone well who fired my friends, who is always finding fault with everything, who creates work where it is not needed and who basically is incoherent on a good day and snappish on a bad one.

I can’t really tell if anyone likes this jerk or if they are just genuinely nice people. I will go with the latter, since said jerk quitting and becoming a hausfrau doesn’t seem likely what with all the travel and conference and other perks they get.

I can’t imagine anyone missed my absolute lack of engagement at the news. And I’m the only one who didn’t type congratulations in the group chat.

I did however text the two employees she and her minion fired and said my toast is that she gets treated exactly the way she treats others.

Even they are like why are you even telling us. I’m like I know. It just feels like we are the only ones who look at this person and don’t see why they are so blessed with happiness and money and titles and promotions and the freedom to run roughshod over actual kind and productive human beings.

I imagine the other cunt who can’t stop posting about me would probably say I’m jealous. Bitch, choke on that water bottle you fellate.

I got plenty of mens on unread. (Hat-tip to Baby Girl Lisa who got mens in all 50 states.)

In fact, I do my level best to drive them away. All of them. The fact that they seem to love the neglect proves my point that men love the challenge, not necessarily the woman.

I’d pity this poor asshole who just wasted his money on jewelry and signed up for a ruined life.

And I’d fear that I have to chip in on a group gift or party.

But if this sucker doesn’t wise up soon, hell if all these suckers don’t wise up, that’s not a “me” problem.

One of my wishes is to not work at the same company with this person. I hope it doesn’t have to be that I have to leave for that to be possible.

I gave up Goonhilda for Lent for the last time.

Gave up really isn’t right. Released. Yeah, that’s it.

Actually I took my final peek at her Twatter account when I read that she wore a tank top and tights to a colleague’s party. No skirt or pants or anything.

And here I was thinking that it was going to be her chronic complaining about the people at work that would get her to go private. Sheet, it was her dressing like a damn foo that did me in.

I didn’t even see any photos, if there was any sort of photographic evidence. Christ I hope not.

Speaking of work, every single time I ask tarot how to be happier there, I pull the 8 of Cups. The biggest and most blaring sign to walk away in the entire deck.

I won’t talk about any of it here. I mean, it’s all fine and nothing is unusual.

That’s what happened the last time I kept pulling the 8C about the job — it was the same hamster wheel of crisis.

This time around, I’m wise enough to realize it’s not that I’m overwhelmed but rather that I’m under resourced.

Sure I have a lot of staff now. But they are not me. I mean I have some rock stars. Rock fucking stars, man. But I also have someone who whines when they have to accommodate 1-2 pieces of the project when I’m taking 7-8 on top of supervising 20-odd people and attending All The Meetings.

I’m not comparing woes. I’m just saying that I may have the staff but I don’t have the SKILLED staff to take over these projects on the moronically short deadlines we’re expected to produce them under.

Anyway, I think a lot about what I’d do next. Or where. We already learned that I can’t function outside of there. What makes me think going into a completely different field would work out any better than my attempts to move around within it?

There’s something about this moon that’s got everyone driving as crazy as they do during the full moon.

As ever, the new moon in Pisces is supposed to be the best one for ending cycles and banishing the bullshit.

That’s true of every moon cycle, TBH. But there’s something about this one.

New moons are new beginnings. So, a good time to manifest what you want. And the clearer you can be, the better.

I was watching “Say Yes to the Dress” and fell in love with a mom and daughter. The daughter bought a gorgeous dress but it was a hard choice between that and another, totally sexy party dress, that looked banging on that little body of hers.

Because it was Covid, they waited three years for the wedding. In that time, the mom saved her money and ordered the sexy party dress without telling her.

When she was getting her final fitting on the ceremony dress, the helper brought out the sexy dress.

This girl was overcome with emotion. She didn’t say it, but you just know she was thinking about how much money that surprise cost.

She put on the dress and she lit up like one of those crystal chandeliers in Kleinfeld.

And I thought, that’s it. I want that bridal moment. I am manifesting that moment for me.

I mean, I don’t know how it plays out. Maybe it’s that I get to Kleinfeld, try on a dress and that’s the end of it.

Or maybe I get to pose outside of Cinderella’s castle at midnight, with only the lights and fireworks and photographers and my groom.

Obviously I won’t have a wedding party because I don’t have any friends.

Anyway, I have been avoiding my friend in Medellin as much as my cop-adjacent friend.

I mean, I was wishing to meet someone without having to leave my house. Boom, I got TWO suitors without having to put forth an ounce of effort.

But I got to thinking about every man I’ve attracted into my life. How not one has done anything to change my life for the better.

I mean, one kind of did (thank you for helping me to move, and to get respite from work). But it’s like they were mostly never even here.

Medillin is always sweetheart this and beautiful that. And dare I say something about coffee or wine or Europe, as these are early days and I don’t know what to talk about, he’s quick to insert himself into the picture. We will drink wine. I will bring you coffee. We both have remote jobs so we can travel together.

Like, I am so not used to this. And I’m not annoyed, which I expected I would be.

But I’m also not a flirt, either. Like do I really want to encourage this kind of banter.

It’s not even that I fear getting my own hopes up — I fear getting HIS hopes up.

I think with the last few guys I was with, I was just going for it, you know? What if it’s love — what if it’s what I’ve waited for? Don’t miss out.

Now I’m like well this is amusing but I am back to the way I was BEFORE 2019 — too busy to juggle in another person.

I already (probably) disappoint my mom and my work. I mean, I spend less time with both. But that’s a function of getting older/tired-er.

Do I really need another person to feel guilty about that I’m not keeping up with enough?

On the other hand, bridal moment.

Again, too early days to even THINK about that shit with any of these people. But how am I going to GET that moment when I am over here perfecting my already rock-solid “fuck off” vibe?

I would say I wish there were a way to know whether this one or that one or all of them are going to be time-wasters.

But I know. They all are. Like all the friends I’ve had, too.

I’m not mad at anyone. They served their purpose, for as long as they needed to.

I’m just tired of investing in people for no goddamn reason.

I have everyone on unread right now. I don’t know if I want to keep them there. One thing about Medellin is he’s showing a great deal of patience. But once he’s back in the country, I imagine he’ll be on my doorstep.

Anyway, funny that I want to manifest a bridal moment while keeping anyone with partner potential on unread.

My mom would totally have sacrificed everything to order me that party dress. Just like her parents sacrificed everything for us to have what we did, and we didn’t even know what a sacrifice it was at the time.

That’s what I really want. A man like Grampy. A feisty spirit like Gram. A sensitive heart like Mom. And a friend or lover or both who is worth all the damn time and effort that I am probably about to put in again (and again).

Neptune moves into conjunction with Venus today. Good time for a love spell.

I’ve loved a lot in my life. Mostly meals and cats. Definitely my immediate family. Possibly a few others. Money is unquestionably my first love. Good health is higher on that list than ever now.

As for romantic love? Enh.

At least, it was a no till I read something this morning that made me stop and wonder if/wish I wrote it.

I have always loved me. So much so that I quit wanting others to do it since none of them could do it as well as I could.

But if I loved myself fully, would I reject more than just adequate suitors? Like would I also repel the shitty friends, colleagues (I mean, more than I do) and other treatment by clearly lesser beings?

Anyway a good spell to do right now is to send your spirit to your future partner and tell them you are ready for them.

And no, you don’t know who it is. Even if you think you do.

Trust me, the universe has never picked who I thought it would.

And isn’t that beautiful, really.

I see now that all the duds were really the ones who sent for me, and not me for them.

Kind of a relief that nobody’s picker is broken. They aimed for a goddess. I just need to focus my efforts to aim for a god.

I’d say I couldn’t remember the last time I had a man wish me a Happy Valentine’s Day who didn’t report to me (or “just” report to me, ahem), but imma need to hold that thought.

All right, take two.

I’ve been talking to a couple dudes. My expectations for Valentine’s Day were nil because, just talking.

Anyway imagine my surprise when the one who’s out of the country was the one to wish me a happy Valentine’s Day.

I never want to write about these sorts of things. Because it’s like the universe says oh, you have hope? Is that what you’re telling me? NO SOUP FOR YOU.

Then I think, I’ve literally never worked harder at anything in my life than trying to stay single. Isn’t this, then, the ultimate assurance that I will stay that way?

So I met this guy a long time ago. At work. *hides*

Aside, “We Found Love in a Hopeless Place” is the ultimate interoffice romance anthem.

He doesn’t work there anymore. But he’s always kept in touch.

He gave me his number a long time ago but I lost it. And talking over fuckin LinkedIn, of all things, was getting old.

So I wished him a safe trip overseas and said text me some photos.

He doesn’t miss an opportunity to tell me he thinks I’m beautiful. That he wants to see my smile. That it’s been too long since we video chatted. That when he gets back, he’s bringing me coffee from the region he’s in and that he’s taking me for wine.

He doesn’t live in my county. But he’s definitely in one that intrigues me.

He’s also a ghost online. I’ve Googled the ever-loving fuck out of this fella. Best I can gather is that he’s maybe 41.

Which, being 30ish myself, that works well. Although if anyone’s nose is still hooked in mah bidness, they would point out that he’s a young’n.

He also seems so free. Always hopping on flights out of the U.S. Planning to summer at a place I want to see. Offering to accompany me to two (much nearer) places I am hoping to see this year.

A part of me thinks of how many pandemic pounds I’ve made peace with. How much else has changed in me, physically and mentally. Heck, I was reading an hour ago that people (insert the thing) have a higher incidence of anxiety/depression than those (who don’t).

Just as I was thinking that my anxiety is the same as it ever was, I developed a high fever.

And I thought, JFC, things are going right or, at least, NOT ENTIRELY WRONG. Of course I’ll die before I get to experience it. Of course.

Can you imagine, really? Just as things are starting to get kinda good again, you either drop dead or have to tell someone hey, I’m bout ta explode into a thousand bats. You may wish to exit now, yes?

Then a half hour ago, I saw this …

Anyway, it’s so interesting how many online “ghosts” I meet. When I’ve been living my life out loud since Al Gore invented the internet.

Clearly this one is living his life out loud in a very real way. And he adorably thinks I can become part of all that.

I have another one I talk to. Much closer. Like, I see him all the time closer.

He clearly has a crush on me and is awkward as hell and it’s so freaking cute.

But one thing that is true with both these guys is I show nothing. It challenges the first one and it seems to attract but scare the other.

Of course, I just found out the other is a cop and I HATE cops. I can abuse and murder my own damn self, thanks. At least, I can certainly defund myself. Especially when the crystal shop has a sale.

Anyway, I know I didn’t react quite right when I discovered who his employer is. I tried. Kinda.

The beauty of this all is that I’ve been fine for 30ish years and I already did the whole “maybe THIS is the one I’ve waited all this time for” thing.

But I gotta say. Someone who’s hanging out near the Tropic of Capricorn and still texts me good morning, good night and happy Valentine’s Day? Damn.

Maybe I need to quit worrying whether I’m the crazy one and whether HE is!

Literally everyone I like has complained to me about the same three people who drive me bugshit nuts.

I am gracious when it happens. I assure them they’re not paranoid. That it’s not just them. That it’s the world’s worst-kept secret, but it’s not a problem till it’s a problem for people at a higher pay grade.

I don’t really wish ill for the antagonists. My prayer, at least as far as I pray on Faceypages, is that they will find their dream job at a company I don’t work for.

I mean, that allows for the possibility that they might hang out and I’ll get kicked out.

But still. I’ve decided to hold space for the possibility that I am more valuable than the goobers will ever be, even combined.

That’s such a freeing thought.

That, yeah of course the worst always seems to happen. Or at least the hardest or stupidest thing.

In stocks and politics, I always say the thing that hurts the biggest number of people in the biggest way is what will happen.

I have yet to be wrong on those fronts. (e.g., just when it’s time to buy, the market shits the bed because JPOW might breathe incorrectly tomorrow … Roe overturned … neo-Nazi MTG as fucking speaker pro temp WHAT THE FUCK.)

In any event, what if … I am beloved (if not undervalued) and everyone has THEIR number and it’s a WRONG number and they don’t realize how HAPPY we would be if things went back to the way they were before (e.g., without them)?

Now that’s a relief.

Also, I decided I don’t believe in breathing in the good and out the bad.

I’m not breathing toxic fire on that which sustains me.

Instead, I exhale joy and hope and love to the trees, the ducks, the grass, the butterflies and the white caps of the ocean waves.

Lord knows they have enough people fertilizing them with their bullshit. It’s up to me to sustain them. As I try to do with the people who have less of a voice than I.

I ran into a pair of kiddos at Pet Supermarket yesterday. As I do.

One reminded me of Cocoa. Bright eyes, playful. Gray and brown striped tabby. Danced the way Cocoa does when she wants me to wake up.

The other had the same coloring. But its eyes were crossed. One eye was a little swollen.

When I looked in the cage by the register, the first one bounded into the action. Look at us! Look how cute we are! Take us home please! Me and my twin here, c’mon you know you wanna!

The second looked sad. Like, hi, I’m here too. Hope you could love me but I’d understand if you can’t.

I did what I always do. I told them I loved them. I hoped they’d get a nice house and a good family. And that they’d get to go together.

This particular store always seems to sell one and not the other. But I’m holding onto hope.

I told mom about this pair, how I wish I could have taken them.

She had eye surgeries as a kid. I bet she would have fallen in love with the calmer kitty. How that calm kitty would love Cocoa and Bella. How Magic needs another kitten to be crazy with.

I look at my 3 bebes, who spent all afternoon with me as I caught up on work. I always think of how I want them with me forever.

Cocoa’s little legs, man.

But every time I tell myself my heart will shatter without my babies, I meet another baby who needs a momma.

Speaking of, I need to go see my downstairs babies. I call them Kadie Jr., Cocoa Jr. and Nutmeg Jr. After babies I’ve loved (Kates and Nut) and still do (Cokie).

Who knew my greatest loves would all have tails?

I accepted a job offer at the end of 2019 under duress.

The what and the who of it all that made me say yes to that mess was inconsequential. (God I love that word.)

The important thing was, I was leaving an annoying person …

But all I really did was exchange them for another crackpot.

Who just showed up in my damn inbox again.

Yesterday, I got this weird email about reiki. Whoever wrote it included some OAN-type of clip about how it rouses the demons out of your body to unleash hell on the world.

Now, I get opted into all kinds of crazy Christian wingnut financial pubs all the time. As ever, I scrolled to the bottom to see who the lucky “unsubscribe” recipient would be today.

UGH, SJ.

OK, so when I joined the new entity, I was introduced to this cool lady who read tarot cards and published guides on manifesting your wildest dreams. Like, she even used tarot and intuition to help her trade stocks!

I thought it was going to be a friendship made in heaven.

Well … she would soon undergo some sort of wacko religious experience.

At first, it was that she embraced tRumpism full stop. She ran for office in her (luckily faraway) state and lost bigly.

Then, George Floyd got murdered on my birthday. And she couldn’t stop bringing it up in meetings. Which, as her superior, I deflected until I’d had enough of her.

She kept talking about the “riots” and I said they are peaceful protests till some brat with a big gun crosses state lines to kill protestors.

She said, well Dawn, you can go riot all you want. But if you go to D.C. and deface the Thomas Jefferson statue, I will drive down there and shoot you myself.

THIS WAS ON A CALL THAT HALF THE COMPANY HEARD.

She later Skyped me to apologize for threatening to kill me.

When I returned my laptop post-shitcanning, I made that screenshot the desktop image.

Anyway, her little tarot/manifestation newsletter started to document this religious awakening she was having.

I stayed on the mailing list, as I got no problem with God. (His followers, OTOH …)

Increasingly, she started repenting about getting mixed up in the “dark arts” and believing in gods and goddesses when there was Only One.

Then she went silent. And honestly I forgot about her.

Then the email filled with “proof” of reiki rousing sleeping demons did me in.

I simply unsubscribed. After all, I can’t imagine she has amassed any traction on the internet. What, one spam complaint is gonna set her straight? Please.

I type all of this to reiterate something I’ve typed about in this space a thousand times before. Trading bad for bad.

Like, you want to escape something at one place … well guess what, you get something equally annoying at the next.

So when I sit here today and dent my forehead after hanging up from (now three) annoying people, I think, hey! None of them THREATENED MY LIFE today.

I mean, they might have made me want to end it all at some point. But every meeting and project eventually concludes. And I get to go back to my cool, awesome team after each one.

And the inconsuhkwential ones never stop being just that.