Caterwauling

Two cheese advent calendars and two chocolate advent calendars in this house.

I remember some sexy beast calling these “cheap cheese.” And my flowers and clothes cheap, too.

Magnetic personality, that one.

In any event, happy December and cheers to all my lovers and haters. Especially those who fall into both categories.

Sometimes you see why people are what they are.

That happened the other day. And that makes me want to say I’m sorry.

Sorry for what they feel they have do to protect themselves. For what it takes to feel satisfied or alive or that they matter.

I can’t tell whether they are experiencing the consequences of their own actions, or whether nobody ever treated them right in the first place.

My guess now is both.

They became who they are to survive. Maybe they will see that they don’t have to stay that way. Or maybe it’s so ingrained that it’s “just them.” And maybe they’ll be surrounded by enablers forever or end up alone.

I’d like to believe a lot of it is just for show. For sympathy and likes and ammunition.

But if it isn’t, and it’s for manipulation, I understand that, too.

Feeling in control of something, anything is more powerful than any prescription.

In any event, I see you. I forgive you. I wish you all the best and the healing you need to do to get it.

Or AquariYus, as some internet rando would say.

There’s this delight online who can’t get me out of their head.

I peek in every couple of days to see if they should go as a sane person for Halloween, since no one would ever guess it’s them.

Check, check.

Which is it, was I just a blip and nothing and it wasn’t a relationship … or am I some ex-girlfriend who’s allegedly posting songs about an ex-boyfriend?

Also ya silly nincompoop, the song is about being in a relationship and meeting someone else new. And also ya friggin’ nut, it was on my car radio and I thought it had a good beat. I didn’t even look up the lyrics till you obsessed about it in (en?) tweet.

When you need help with that “sane person” costume, LMK.

I gave a friend a reference to work at a company where an old boss works.

Two days in, she hates it.

I Googled him and found a fairly recent YouTube video featuring him.

His ability to blather for 47 minutes like he’s the smartest person on earth still takes my breath away.

She and I worked for another guy who was super nice but provided zero in the way of leadership.

It got me to thinking about which is worse: bad leadership or NO leadership at all?

It really all came down to empowerment, for me.

I had the lousiest of leadership, but he also got the F out of my way after he was done obfuscating, boring and excoriating me.

Then fast-forward a few years, and the other stayed right the F in my way after ofuscating, boring and excoriating me.

The latter never did tell me how to please them. Just reminded me that I didn’t. Eventually I quit trying.

These days, I have just the right mix of involvement and getting out of the way. For the most part, the involvement is valuable and valid.

Anyway, you don’t really appreciate good leadership until you’ve had the other kinds.

I always loved starting new WordPress blogs. The very first sample post was titled “Hello, world,” and it hinted at all the possibilities that your brand-new blog held.

I thought about this blog today. Not how it’s been offline for a million years. But how I started it before I left Pennsylvania. How it helped me reason my way through Virginia, Maryland and a trip down I-95 to South Florida.

My return here from beyond the veil today doesn’t mean I’ll be providing whack-off fodder to folx who — based on a meme they recently posted — finally realized that I don’t get jealous of losers.

Or maybe I will. Post, that is. Never get jealous. XD

Talk soon … maybe.

Had a weird dream. A colleague was driving me to a meeting. It was at a house I had zero plans to set foot in again. But here we were.

It was awkward of course. One occupant clearly wanted to say hello to me but his electric shock collar jolted him every time eye contact was attempted. Someone else forbade me from using the bathroom — they poured kitty litter into Shock Collar’s lazy chair and said have at it.

What would be really nice is to see people in dreams as often I do in person. Which is not at all.

Maybe next time I’ll get lucky and dream of Freddy Krueger instead.

No, not me. God.

But, two old colleagues who were married to others when I met them.

They seemed the least likely of the strange couplings to make it. But it appears all couplings except all mine worked out.

Que sera.

They look good together. He looks about 40 years younger than he should. We always thought she was one of those serial killer wives from the ID Channel.

Not sure whatever happened to her first husband. I guess if this one ever goes missing, we’ll know. Boys do love them some crazy.

The crystal shop painted over its blue flamingo.

Now it’s just a bland, beige concrete wall.

Fitting.