Caterwauling

New Year’s has always been “my” holiday. In years past, you could usually count on me to host the party or plan the outing. That all sort of screeched to a halt four years ago when I found myself unemployed and just not feelin’ the season. And after that, I was just too busy to really do much of anything but show up if I was invited to go out, or just chill if not.

So as I sit here, waiting to go out to what has turned into Plan C (since I said no to Plan A, and Plan B got borked because I SWEAR these men are moodier than I ever was during my period, not that I’ve seen one of those in two months but I’m thinking it’s my stress level causing my engine to misfire), I was very moved while reading Swirlspice’s “Obligatory Look Back at 2008” that I thought perhaps I should count my blessings, too, before figuring out what should make it to this year’s to-do list.

So, as I sit here listening to Winger’s cover of “Happy Christmas (War is Over)” (it’s really good!), here goes my 2008:

1. I lost (and kept off) about 45 pounds. Of course, truth be told, I lost about 70 but I keep gaining it back because of lack of willpower, stress and walking by the fucking candy corner at work 7 million times a day. Because they put me upstairs. I know not why other than to help me ruin my diet.

2. I started moving. No, not moving out, although I do have a “hope chest” filled with new bedding that’s just WAITING for a new apartment, in whatever city it will be in. If I don’t leave metro D.C. completely, I do think it’s time to vacate D.C. proper. Yes, that means registering the car in another state. (Sigh.) Good times.

2.a. What I meant by “moving” was getting up out of my damn chair and exercising. Taking the stairs at every possible opportunity. Dancing around the house during the five minutes every nine months that I get it to myself. I recently blew the cobwebs off my 5 lb. weights and also bought some ankle weights, a resistance band and a balance ball. I’m not claiming I’ve done much in the way of using them, but I have to pick them up to move ’em out of my way. So, hey, that counts as exercise, yes?

3. I got out of town without taking the Guilt Trip Express. Don’t get me wrong, Kathie Lee of the Carnival Guilt Trip Cruises is all up in mah hizzy daily with what a miserable person she thinks I am. I think Cleopatra books a first-class ticket to Egypt every time I say things like “get out of my bedroom; for the 75th time, I mean it.” I’m not sure why this living situation had to happen this way. I don’t know why it was ordained that I have to be the caregiver now. And I don’t know how to get out from under it. But do not THINK I accept “deserving” this mess.

4. I fell in love. A few times. OK, really only once, since my heart was somewhere it shouldn’t have been and was never really present when it needed to be accounted for elsewhere. As everyone probably recalls, it didn’t happen. I still don’t know why I felt what I felt, or why it failed to launch. I mean, there are always reasons, but nothing I’ve managed to find acceptable. In any case, it was good to see that the heart could expand to let someone else in, even if they didn’t choose to enter the threshold. And to prove my resilience is still intact, the heartbreak ran its course and I’ve healed. Someday, I just hope I can once again feel the way I did when I had that rush of expectation.

5. I made time for me. This was huge. For the last four years, I never made it out of work before 9 p.m. and especially not before or even DURING a holiday. But I committed to weekly Weight Watcher’s meetings and other social outings, and managed to get to 90% of them in the past couple of months. I made it late, oftentimes, but that still counts. 😉 And my mental health is all the better for it — I finally, finally have some control.

So, now that I’ve looked back in order to look forward, here’s the resolution list for 2009:

1. Continue trimming the fat, both physically AND metaphorically.

I’m approaching this over/under number that, while I’m sad to be entering the new year above said milestone, it’s really not that far away.

2. Keep on moving.

I tend to blame my lack of gym joinage on those who drain my financial resources. But by blaming others for my own failures, I’m giving away my power. And I’m taking it back NOW. My success so far has been all my own doing; any future success will be the same.

3. Travel more.

The friends and I are either going to go to a Caribbean island for a week or take a cruise to several. (Is it sad that I want to take the cruise?)

Or maybe I’ll venture somewhere else on my own. Who knows?

My real goal is to get to Paris, but that doesn’t mean I have to sit here stewing until that day comes. I am also looking at branching out more locally.

4. To not lament the fact that I’m turning 35 and am nowhere near where women are expected to be at this age, insofar as marriage/family “goals.”

Those were never my goals and I don’t see why I should be made (even if only by myself) to feel pressured to catch up to someone else’s ideals. I mean, I’ve spent the better part of my life being pudgy; it’s only now that I feel like I’m really, truly living it up. This is a hard goal because I know I’ll torture myself now and again. But when it comes down to it, I want to see the world and while I’d LOVE to have someone at my side while I do it, I’d better not hold myself back if I DON’T.

5. Find more adventure in D.C.

More friends, more men, more classes/workshops, more everything.

See ya on the other side. Happy New Year, and may it be a prosperous one for all of us!

I’m having one of those days in which I am a twee bit sensitive to criticism. I’ve been busting my hump and taking a whole lot of shit, and I swear, even so much as a “did you think about …” comment is enough to make me want to *stabstabstab* the nearest possible victim.

I don’t think I’ve ever made it a secret that I work with “rock stars.” They’re at various stages in their career path. I’m sort of like the band manager — I get rid of the brown M&Ms if that’s what they want, and I give the groupies the backstage passes.

But a relative newcomer who would fall into the, ah, drummer position in my rock band, thought they deserved lead singer status and, let’s say, trashed not only the hotel room last night, but damn near burned down the entire wing.

And blamed it on me.

And admitted to it (at gunpoint) with a simple “Hehehe.”

*pimp-slap*

In the grand scheme of things, it’s no big deal. But then I had to pay off the hotel staff to keep quiet AND hose the vodka and puke off of all of us today. And I’m a little bit crabby about it all because, even though it’s only the drummer, you can’t vote half your rhythm section off the island when the show’s gotta go on.

In a small “pity party” moment, I seriously stopped to wonder why I’ve got to deal with all these crazy folks — parking lot cunt, fuckhead Alexandria police officer, “Animal” from “The Muppets,” and a whole lot of smaller but equally annoying exchanges and actions — and have to always rise above them. It’s getting kind of old.

At some point, when everyone’s wiping their asses with your hair, you’ve got to explode. And while I stop to wonder why everyone’s dumping/blaming their shit on me, I notice that I am struggling (and oftentimes FAILING) to maintain an “inside voice.”

I mean, I finished an argument first thing in the a.m., only to roll into work early for something that instead came TWO HOURS LATE. The two-hour delay made me miss my 10 a.m. engagement. Then I had two make-up meetings to cover the ground I wasn’t there to cover in the original planning session. And anyone who approached me in the interim damn near got their heads bitten off. NOM.

I’m not snapping and have no plans to, but seriously, when all of these tests abate, I’m accepting no less than an A-plus for effort.

Am clearly not so good at the daily blogging part of National Blog Posting Month. Oh well. I’m sure I’ll have 30 posts by the end of the month, just concentrated in four days!

I was on a Top-Super-Seekrit Mission this week that mercifully ended last night. I was asked to moderate a panel at a convention and it would also be webcast. I wasn’t really nervous about it until yesterday when I realized I hadn’t prepared a thing for it.

So I did write down some remarks that were mostly boring but at least they served the purpose. And I was fine as I sat on the dais in front of about 300 people (and who knows how many viewers at home). But when the dude doing the recording in the back signaled to me that it was “go” time, I damn near had to stave off a full-fledged panic attack.

I’m one who gets nervous about nothing, mind you (other than wondering whether I’ll ever get my happily ever after. Everything else, I presume, will work itself out).

I figured with the very, ah, strong personalities and love of talking that my panelists possessed would save me. I mean, for all intents and purposes, it was just a televised staff meeting. And they did great. Really, really great. I mean, to be considered “good enough” to be seen in public with this crew is not a small feat.

But when I heard the sound of my own voice … in the microphone … and people waiting for the pearls of wisdom I would share and bring out of my guests … the only thing that ran through my head was, “Don’t say fuck. Don’t say fuck. OMG, don’t say FUCK!”

I didn’t say fuck. Clearly, it was the only thing ON MY MIND, but it didn’t come out. And, in that, success!

Everyone assured me that I did fine. (Could they not HEAR the terror that overtook my voice? Which went away when the session ran longer than expected and the cameras got shut off?) I even got higher compliments than that, actually.

The highest compliment of all came simply from being nominated me to do this, as some Very Important People actually thought I would do well and not publicly embarrass the company. And really, everyone was happy with me as the choice. I don’t know why. Do I NOT come across as a blithering, blathering dipshit? Because, I do have more of those moments than cohesive, articulate ones. In case you haven’t gleaned that from reading this page. 😉

Anyway, it’s over. Yay. I treated myself to a $15 glass of pinot noir and a bowl of pumpkin soup to celebrate. (I didn’t know the pinot cost as much as a BOTTLE elsewhere.) I figured I’d be served the house label and not the Estancia.

But you know what? That wine was da bomb. Truly worth driving the ol’ checking account deeper negative numbers. 😉 Hey, I earned it!

To top off a great night, I heard from my out-of-town connection, and I find myself actually starting to get a little antsy. Like, OK, I like being a few hundred miles apart because I don’t have the time to devote to anything other than my career and preserving my sanity.

But yesterday was the first time I hung up the phone and held it to my heart for a few moments, not quite sure what I was feeling but knowing that this is fine but maybe it’s not enough. I’m very cool with things unfolding as they may, if at all, and if it’s nothing, then that’s quite OK too. But at some point, a girl’s gotta find out.

In either case, as I swirled my wine in the glass, sniffed it like the pro I’ve become and nodded at all the people who looked my way, I smiled. A real, genuine, from-the-depths-of-my soul smile. It’s not that I was proud of anything I said or did last night, or that I was happy to not have embarrassed myself or my organization, but that I felt like I was going to turn out OK after all.

Here’s to hoping that wasn’t just the wine talking. 😉

Main Entry: buzz·kill

Pronunciation: \ˈbəz-ˌkil\

Function: noun

Definition: When you’re in the middle of, ah, “me” time and your mommy knocks. And you KNOW she ain’t gonna wait for you to answer the door so you’ve got some, ah, hiding to do!

Related Words: “God, why are you tormenting me?”

Oh, I did promise to write something every day this month, right? Bleagh.

OK, so I was headed toward Alexandria for what would be a lovely brunch at Overwood with Tiff and Tom when I decided to get my newly lit “check engine” light, well, checked at my old mechanic in that area. Five hours later — yes, they picked me up, took me out and returned me safely — I got my car out of the automotive pokey. And lo, I ain’t singing yet, ’cause this drama is far from over.

First they had to order a part from another mechanic. It came at some point. And it came WRONG. So they had to order it from another place. And had to go pick it up. Oh and BY the way, did I know that two of my tires have holes in them?

I’m like, fine, ring me up some new tires.

“Oh, we don’t sell tires,” they said.

“Of course you don’t,” I said, somewhat cheerfully, somewhat maniacally.

We’ve moved the nearly deflated tires to the rear of the car since the power and, more importantly, the BRAKES are in the front.

While I was waiting for this blessed event to come to a merciful end, I got a call from someone saying that he probably wasn’t going to be able to make it to something I’d invited him to.

Of course. See, there’s a reason I’ve stopped getting my hopes up. And this was it. But I admit to letting myself wonder about it from time to time, when I REALLY needed to picture something going right. Oh well. Another time, right?

This all came after my computer — both the monitor AND the hard drive — climaxed together and committed suicide by asphyxiation this morning, too. Yay.

And I remembered why I stopped using my laptop, as plugging the cable Internet cord into it never did work. I had asked a ton of people how to make it go, but other than an “Uh, did you disable the firewall?” and a corresponding ass scratch, that was pretty much where I quit pushing the issue.

Anyway, I was so glad I was done with having a car payment (on my own vehicle, anyway) but between today’s repair and the tires I have to find the fucking time to buy this week, well, I didn’t REALLY want to be saving up for a new ‘puter, did I?

Speaking of, this thing’s about to fizzle yet again. …

I figured I should start going to meditation class. No time like the present, right? I figure, I’ve got so much on my mind these days, I could use a little bit of “me” time in my own little sacred space.

I didn’t want to judge it, as I need the techniques that these people know. But the class stressed me out more than I already was.

I think it helped, in the end, as it served to ease some of the tension that I carry in my neck and upper back. I was way mellow as I drove home, so not only was that a first, I guess we can call it a plus. So yeah, I guess I’ll be going back.

In the interim, here are the top 10 thoughts that ran through my head as the leader guided us through a meditation in which we were to imagine our various body parts smiling. Yes, you read that right.

1. If you can make my ass smile, then this class will have been worth the cost of entry.

2. Does thinking of somebody else’s smile qualify as envisioning the curve of a smile in my heart? Because my heart ain’t whistling Dixie here.

3. With my eyes closed this long, my eyeliner is definitely smudging. Damn it. I need to buy waterproof liner for next time.

4. Envisioning someone else’s smile is awesome. Wonder what that person is doing right now. Wait, am I smiling? Oh yay!

5. Wonder WHO that person is doing right now. Is homicide justifiable?

6. My ass is DEFINITELY not smiling. Nor is any other body part. Humph.

7. My legs are asleep. And my ass hurts from sitting on the floor. Screw this happy, tree-hugging granola shit.

8. What’s the point of relaxing, anyway? I just have to go home afterward.

9. What the hell is Dionne Warwick’s “I’ll Never Love This Way Again” doing in my head? Holy repressed memory coming through.

10. I should probably turn this shirt inside-out when I go to wash it.

Yes, relaxation and I are two ships passing in the night. …

There was a time when my friends and I blogged every single day. Multiple times, if we could swing it. But then days and even a week or so can go by, and none of us update.

It’s sad, really, because we are all so busy that tossing up a blog posting was our way of saying to the world that we’re still alive, and it was kind of our connection to each other. Especially for someone like me — who’s changed addresses, e-mails, jobs and phone numbers, not to mention that folks who use to know me probably wouldn’t recognize me if they passed me on the street — I understand that the blog is kind of my “still breathing” signal.

I had asked one friend whose blogging abated long before mine did, why she didn’t update anymore. She just kind of shrugged and said, “Don’t really need to.”

I don’t think it’s that I don’t need to use this space to record my life; maybe it’s that I’ve stopped wanting to. Or simply having time to.

I’ve been on this super-secret mission for quite some time now. Nobody really knows what I’m up to and it’s weird, not touching base with everyone to say, “OMG, you wouldn’t believe the ridiculously awesome things that happened last night.” Because although yesterday does not rank in the top 10 days of my life to date, the after-work hours (since the workday was what they call a “big fat fucking waste”) were just so, so surprising. And pleasant.

And maybe I want to keep a little of that to myself for now.

I remember with one of my relationships that I was just so SURE was going to turn out to be something, I blabbed. Not here. Well, OK, yeah I did. But in another place where I post, I was just all hopes and smiles and “OMG, I deserve this and I can’t wait to see where it goes.”

You know what that’s called? Jinxing yourself. Seriously. What a holy fucking fizzle that was.

So I’ve sort of trained myself to get my hopes up a little — just a teeny, tiny bit — but the less I share with the people around me, oftentimes the better it turns out.

It’s strange that way. And somewhat disappointing, because I really do love to document my journey. I dunno, I guess I just want to give others hope, that if I can make miracles work, so can they.

I also suppose I want to be able to see where I went wrong … and where I went right. I know that when you finally reach a goal, you can forget a lot of the details that got you there or the ones you could have eliminated to get you there sooner.

In any case, the important thing is that, even though I can’t really say what I’m up to, I’m still up to some things. And maybe it’s a blessing that I not get caught up in all the details till I can have time to reflect on them and make sense of them in a completely different context.

It’s weird not talking it out. But it’ll be OK because I’ll just have more stories to tell from the other side. 🙂

Thursday is only wearing 15 pieces of flair.

Well said, Tom. Well said.

We’re dealing with Mousegate in Cubicle Hell today. How those fat, furry little fuckers managed to squeeze their big mouse butts into everyone’s file cabinets is beyond me. They even got into our drawers and ate the foam off of our noise-canceling headphones.

Seems the rodents have a penchant for granola bars, almonds and instant oatmeal. But while they ate my maple-sugar-flavored oatmeal (good on them — I hate it anyway) and skipped my plain oatmeal, they skipped the maple at my friend’s desk and went for the apple-cinnamon.

I’m going to have to bring in latex gloves tomorrow to clean up all the mouse crap. Dude, they ruined two of my three pairs of headphones!

The little bastards peed in some folks’ file cabinets, but I think my little invaders must have found a laxative in someone’s workstation, because I’ve had birds do less damage to my windshield. Didn’t they get the memo that you’re not supposed to shit where you eat?

Today’s Gemini horoscope:

Daily Work: Of course you’re frustrated. Who wouldn’t be if they were dreaming about change but not doing anything about it? Transformation is within your reach, if you start to make an effort.

Daily Singles Love: A fiery fantasy might become a reality if you give someone who’s been pursuing you a chance. Throw caution to the wind and let your heart call the shots for a change.

Wait, what? Following my heart? Who, me?

Nevermind that I’ve had the same dream four nights in a row. Yes, four.

Anywho, I’m still rather amazed that I left work on time last night to, like, do something. Something for me. Something way overdue and too-often-overlooked in the hustle to work, work and work some more.

I guess I inflict this mental pressure on myself, that if I’m always working, then I’m securing my job and am also not otherwise getting into trouble.

But I’ve been avoiding someone … me. I’ve been avoiding my needs and desires and all the things that make me, well, me. I’ve chosen to avoid relationships 100% and only to date people who are as emotionally unavailable as they come.

And with good reason — I apparently lack the empathy gene and apparently love not having to invest any time into anyone. Actually, that’s overstating the issue — I just haven’t made the time for anything or anyone I could care about, so I always have the excuse that I don’t “have” the time … instead focusing on my career and thinking the rest will happen “when it’s meant to.” That things will “fall into place.”

Guess what? They don’t. So sometimes, you gotta force the issue. And that’s exactly what I’m doing.

I’m scared and excited and confused and don’t know what the hell to do next. But it sure beats being frustrated and stuck and hopeless.

I like the person I’ve become so far. But she ain’t done yet … far from it.

“Hello, let me introduce you to
The characters in the show
One says yes, one says no
Decide – which voice in your head you can keep alive.”

— Shinedown, “I Dare You“