Caterwauling

When I “broke up” with Pittsburgh like a hundred years ago, I left mostly dry-eyed. My family and friends were still there, yes. But I was ready to move to D.C. when I did.

When I left D.C. I was a mess. It was an ugly breakup. Everything was just feeling so wrong, and I felt like my only choice was to just go.

So this weekend, when a favorite part of D.C. came to visit me — the first real friend I made there — you can understand why I’m having All the Feels about it.

After a couple days of truth-telling and bottomless Bloody Mary/Mimosa drinking, we went to see “Inside Out” this afternoon. And I pretty much lost my shit during a particular scene.

Without giving away too many spoilers (I hope), there was a part of the main character’s memory that had to be left behind so she could move forward.

I burst into tears. And my friend grabbed my hand and didn’t let go for the rest of the show.

Which, first of all, I love my friend and I’m so glad he called me months ago to let me know he was coming to town so I would be free.

And second, I love that you really don’t have to leave anyone behind if you don’t want to. We all still exist in those little iPhones we cling to as if our lives depended upon them.

In any event, I find myself in a near-constant state of homesickness for D.C. that hasn’t passed in six years.

Not that I want to move back for good, but I’d love to be a snowbird. That would be a great summer home.

I made a new friend this weekend, too. Who lives in the heart of D.C. and who said he has a guest room if I ever want to come up and see my friends. Which, YES.

My friend said he had no idea how much he needed to see me until he got here. And I realized as I said goodbye, that feeling was quite mutual.

Dollars to donuts, I bet if I still lived up there, six years would have gone by without us crossing paths. I mean we lived down the street from each other, and my job took over my life and all my friendships moved to life support.

I’m very grateful key people like him didn’t pull the plug (and I understood it when others did).

I almost don’t want to go back for a visit because I can’t imagine anyone else is left. I mean, I don’t pine for D.C. per se. I pine for the friends I lost touch with before I ever left.

Maybe that’s why Pittsburgh wasn’t so hard to leave behind. I saw my friends a lot. We had many parties and nights out. I wouldn’t say that the friendships ran their course, but we definitely had a ton of fun and played/loved hard.

Like, I always feel like I have one foot out the door here in Florida. That I’d take the first plane out of here if I could ever get a day off.

But I never got my chance to fall in love with this place either. So I also feel like I’d be on the first plane back after I didn’t find what I was looking for someplace else.

In any event, I had to laugh with the movie because Lewis Black was inside the main character’s head. He’s sure inside mine sometimes.

But today, Joy was inside my head. So was Sadness but Joy definitely prevailed.

My friend paid me the best compliment. He came down here to go deep sea diving. And he said spending today with me was on par with being 60 feet below the sea yesterday. I know he loves being out there, so I’m honored.

For me it was more like coming up for air. But our personal choice of elements aside, I can relate.

There’s something special that happens when home comes to you. Thanks, D., for the peace I haven’t felt in a long, long while.

Best souvenir ever.

I worked at HQ for a change on Friday. I loved it. 

I received a steady stream of visitors and hugs. Had productive meetings. Got the gossip. Laughed a lot. 

The one thing everyone says about me, other than that I write the funniest e-mails, is that the miss hearing my laughter through the halls. 

That’s how people knew I was there. I was laughing. 

I said to my one friend, you know what? I don’t laugh anymore at work. 

I mean sure, I chuckle as I work with people I like over instant messenger. But everyone is remote and it’s just me and one other person in the room now. 

Funny how everyone appears to like me but that one. Clearly they missed the “goddess is awesome” memo. 

I wonder if I should return to HQ or whether I should just enjoy feeling special when I visit. Which clearly I need to do more often. 

We’ve been talking at work apt about happiness and meaning. 

Which may be a little ironic given the deeply stressful situations my poor boss and I are in. 

Anyway the conclusion we’ve come to is that the pursue of happiness causes stress. But the pursuit of meaning could result in happiness. 

I had a flash today. My mind was devoid finally of thinking about the dead weight I have to drag around all week. 

And I realized the meaning of my life comes from spending time with my mom. 

Don’t get me wrong. She makes me crazy and I wish she lived her own life  and didn’t need to be the center of mine. 

But she’s funny and bright and pleasant and helpful. 

You know, weight yes but not dead weight. 

Anyway. Not the meaning I was looking for. But meaning nonetheless. 

And maybe that’s more than many other people find in their lifetimes. 

That thing I said earlier about dysfunctional relationships being the most honest … I meant it. 

You know to temper your expectations. 

You don’t have to lie to anyone if you don’t want to. 

You let them be totally honest because, really, are they being honest in their real lives? Probably not. Maybe they’re deliciously kinky. Why let that go to waste?

And maybe they’re not telling you the whole truth. But it’s their truth. Or what they want you to believe about them. 

In any event, there’s a certain magic that happens when you can be completely unguarded around someone. Clothes and other disguises scattered about. Pick them up off the floor when you leave. 

I miss that. I miss that moment inside the snow globe. That moment of being vulnerable but not feeling vulnerable. That moment of feeling invincible when outside that globe you’re anything but. 

Sometimes you can go back. Even if you’re in there by yourself. 

I think I let that hopeful part of me die earlier this year. But it was more that I lost hope about certain things rather than everything. 

Lately it’s been hard to keep my head up. But even if all this — *waves hand around at what’s left* — ends, I’ll still be OK. 

I dint know what comes next. But it’s got to be something. And I’m pretty certain that everyone who has been touched by my magic won’t forget it. 

It’s high time I started using my powers for good … my own good. 

And that is my truth. 

If my two friends didn’t take me to lunch yesterday, this birthday would have otherwise passed like any other. 

The restaurant gave us a vanilla fig cake on the house. Think pineapple-upside-down cake with figs.

Which, OMG. The whipped cream was worth the price of admission.

When I blew out my candle, I looked at my girls and thanked God for them — and I wished to always be surrounded by amazing people.

It wasn’t a rotten week. But I’ve certainly had better. 

Drove to my happy place yesterday. I always say I would want to get married on Deerfield Beach and have my reception at the Beach Club on the Lake Worth golf course. 

Anyway I saw people setting up a wedding. Took a few snapshots for my mental scrapbook …

And just a quick reason why I love the Beach Club in Lake Worth …

Today: Hanging around with impossibly cute, tiny human beings.

Right now: Enjoying a rare but powerful hope for humanity.

Tomorrow: Wondering why we waste so much time with impossible, full-sized human beings when there are cute little people who appreciate being adored.

I said I would only post happy things here. But maybe I can interject thoughtful ones too.

A friend posted something on Facebook that got me to thinking.

Out on social media, lots of people started dumping on a girl about her hair. And let me tell you, her hair was big and blonde and full of beachy waves.

So, I personally think the hateful comments stemmed from jealousy.

It got my friend to thinking about being bullied and otherwise made to feel like crap about his hair. And don’t get me started my lifelong battle with mine.

Nor my nitwit neighbor who flaunts his “stylist to the stars” status yet I’ve never seen him on the “Real Housewives of New York” with whom he claims to be BFFs.

But BOY does he have things to say to/about me without ever offering any help.

My thought is this.

My friend and I have known each other forever and ever. And yet it’s only with that Facebook post — made 22.5 years after we first met — that we realize how miserably insecure we both were about certain things at the time.

The same things.

Go figure.

It kind of makes me smile but not in an overly happy way that we were both shy about certain things. And again, some of the same things. And just didn’t reach out to each other because of them.

It makes me sad to know that my friend was hurting about things I didn’t know about. And I imagine, him being the good guy he is, he would probably feel the same way if he knew what I was holding back.

As for what people think about us now, well, trolls will be trolls. In real life or otherwise.

They just don’t matter. And now, they know it. And even though we always knew they didn’t matter, it’s nice that we turned out just fine … and that they can see it right before their mean little eyes.

If you don’t believe in divine intervention, I have a story for you.

Mom doesn’t want to move. Mom has been begging me not to move. She is so sad about losing the view. Losing the familiarity. Losing the “knowing where shit is.”

She’s been very passively-aggressively making me feel like shit for uprooting her from the place she’s been bitching at me for six years about taking in the first place.

She says the signs are there to stay put”

• In the past few days, I got a brand-new key to a door that I can’t for the life of me unlock with my own key.
• A brand-new streetlight was installed in our parking lot. No more falling in potholes when Evil Landlady 5 and the Maintenance Man from Hell forget to turn on the lights for the weekend.
• Our bridge that connects us to the other side of the Intracoastal, which has been under construction for months, is back to normal as of yesterday.

Still. I got a storage unit and have been shoving shit in there on a regular basis. I got the new apartment and lined up the mover for April 4.

And then today the memo came …

Construction starts on the north side of the building next week.

Our windows get torn out … we lose four feet of space from the outside-in … and wet, yucky, dirty, disgusting plywood gets put into the place of the windows.

That’s four feet from inside every outside wall. And I have a corner unit. My bedroom literally becomes a 5′ x 5′ closet because I have the corner.

That last mess starts April 6.

Two days after I have GOTTEN THE FUCK OUT OF THERE.

I like to think this is good karma paying off.

Whatever it is, I’m so very grateful …

Talking with another of my boys …

Him: You really need to save your sanity somehow.

Me: I will kill them with kindness until I can just kill them.

Him: If you need a partner in crime, just let me know.

Now THAT’s a friend!

I’m loving all the love this week …