Caterwauling

Things that have come out of my mouth in the last 12 hours:

“Be the man you want me to believe you can be.”

“Coffee, a muscle relaxer and some eternal sunshine.” — What I need to recover from this past weekend.

“I’m just a girl in a bar.” (Hat-tip to Meredith Grey.)

Well, actually, my version was, “I’m just a girl in a bar, and I like to leave the boys there when I go.”

“Where’s the man who lights my soul on fire? Because everyone else in the meantime is Just Not Him.”

And as Mom said:

“Dating is hard. I mean, who really gives a shit what he wants on his bread?”

Two people I’ve known forever … from being a part of their very first date to their wedding to seeing them live the happily ever after … have brought into the world today their first child.

If you thought I was homesick for D.C. now, just DON’T talk to me if you are in any way keeping me from being there right now.

It all happened because two people fell in love. Amazing what can result when that happens.

Welcome, little one. I think you hit the parental lottery. Can’t wait to meet you, and to see your amazing parents again, and to spoil the shit out of you in any way I can.

After all, tonight you gave me something I haven’t had in a long time: peace. And hope.

Angry kitty is no longer angry

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

A long time ago, as part of Fat Kid Syndrome no doubt, I gave up caring whether people were talking about me. Which, I know they are. But I like to think my awesomeness is so blinding that they cannot see anything else, and they simply marvel at my deity-ness.

Anyway, I passed two people in the hallway today, and when they thought I was out of earshot, one said to the other, “She seems like one of the sweetest people ever put on this earth.”

That made me so happy. People I don’t know, who I just say hello to in passing, having a kind word to say with absolutely no motive or even reason for saying it.

I realize I don’t get invited a lot of places because I’m not part of a “couple,” nor would I ever dare bring a male around my friends who was anything more than a friend.

Because, you know. married/coupled-off women don’t trust single gals and men are too scared to ask for their balls out of their wives’ purses to have a normal conversation with someone who isn’t their betrothed

And because well, I’m “couple” enough on my own, you know? I have a big enough personality that I don’t need to bring someone around for conversation or moral support when I’m perfectly capable of providing my own.

But boy would it be nice to have folks feel they’ve got me “figured out” so maybe I could hang out at the grown-up table with the wine instead of being let home with the babysitter and a sippy cup.

Or maybe being coupled-off still wouldn’t elevate me in anyone’s eyes. I don’t know. I guess when I find out that someone found someone else to love them, I figure they have to have some redeeming qualities I might not be seeing.

Which is why I love when I get complimented just for being me. I think it’s harder to be yourself than to try to be something or someone else. I’ll count this as an “I totally succeeded” kind of day, in that case.

1. Pumpkin bombs
2. Two of them
3. Apple pie moonshine
4. Old friends and new
5. People being classy enough not to wonder where my party date was.

Even though I had the excuse ready, it was really nice not having to explain anything that shouldn’t be my problem in the first place.

“I know you’ve heard it all before,
So I don’t say it anymore,
I just stand by and let you fight your secret war.
And though I used to wonder why,
I used to cry till I was dry,
Still sometimes I get a strange pain inside.
Oh, Joey, if you’re hurtin’, so am I.”

— Concrete Blonde, “Joey”

This CD literally dropped out of the sky in my room amid a crapalanche while I was looking for a favorite shirt. What a wonderful tune.

I loved it when it came out because for three months I lived with a guy named Joe who was my heart, my adventure buddy, my cross to bear, a scar on my soul that I really don’t notice anymore.

I found myself poking at a different old wound the other day and this song still fits. It might be 20 years later and the aches and pains aren’t just on the inside anymore, but it’s funny how you still find yourself in the same situations.

I ran into Joe several years back. We were with new people and yet we beelined to each other for the world’s biggest, best hug.

I find that to be true even now. Put aside all the weird goings-on and you strip it down to two great people who will always love the absolute shit out of each other in our fucked-up little ways.

I have somebody I worry about. He says all the right things and acts perfectly fine around me. And at face value, for the sake of conversation, these days I’m willing to accept that.

I used to challenge him. I wanted him to see the world differently. And at some point I realized he sees it his way for a reason. And it’s not right for me to take away that unique coping mechanism when I have a million and five of my own.

But I always get so upset inside when it comes to him. Further proving that certain things just aren’t meant to be, and not the way they were/are. Mom said something interesting to me, that she’s never seen me get so nuts over somebody. Like, somebody-medicate-me nuts.

This whole having-one’s-heart-invested thing was foreign. And unprecedented. And I certainly don’t expect a repeat performance. I’m back to “live and let live.” It’s easier for all of us. And frankly, it just works.

Today I resolve to let go of Whorothy. I mean, I will continue stalking the shit out of her, I’m sure. 🙂 But I don’t have enough mental real estate to house her anymore. I never did.

This also means no more jokes or zingers (even though I just thought of a whole bunch of ’em). That’s because that isn’t me. Anger and frustration and HURT more than anything was the basis of my demented sense of humor toward her.

I was happier before I knew of her existence and I think letting go of wanting to mow her over with a moving vehicle might help me get back to that point.

I want to be the person I think I am … the one so many people seem to think I am … the one that I see in others that I feel like, of late, I can’t measure up to. And that means sending as much love out into the world as I possibly can. Perhaps this time it won’t get lost in the mail and I can finally, finally make this world a better place like I always planned.

A.Ma.Zing weekend.

Killers concert last night with my lovely fellow Goddess of the Greek variety.

Today, yes, I went to brunch with the boy and the girls. And I have to say …

They. Were. Fabulous.

They were as nervous to meet me as I was them. They said he speaks so highly of me that they wondered what I’d be thinking about them. (Heh, let’s erase some blog entries, shall we?)

The girls were about 45 minutes late because they got lost. Which, I can’t figure out U.S. 1 to save my life down here either so it’s totally understandable. He and I got to catch up and connect, and I told them both it was fine because I had some time with him. They were visibly relieved and said it was so nice of me to include them (lol).

The one gal mentioned something about his quirkiness to me — something she said, “Oh I KNOW he’s inflicted that on you.” lol. It was generous of her to say what she said. Again, since this is The Short Version, I will leave it at that, but it really was good to hear that I’m not crazy, basically.

The girls invited us back to their place to hang by the pool. But he and I went in search of a few more rounds of drinks, then to a movie, and then out for a nightcap. But it sounds like I have an open invitation to hang out anytime. The one said, “That he introduced you to me, that means you have to be pretty extraordinary.” I will take that as a compliment. 🙂

I couldn’t have had a better weekend. Maybe the short version of it is all we really need. But it’s good to have friends … old AND new. 🙂

It’s my niece’s 10th birthday. Even though her mom is not my biological sister, she sure is my soul one.

I haven’t seen them in years, like, since she was a baby. But every year on this day, I text her mom because they’re both on my mind.

Today the little one took the phone and was texting with me. She is so sweet and well-spoken. She sent me a photo and told me all about her 10th birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese. We parted with a “Love you, Aunt (Goddess)!” and my heart melted.

I type all of this to say that I missed out on so many life events this year … a dear friend’s wedding (I didn’t even RSVP because the very act of telling her, “Oh hey, remember how I had to miss out on everything because of work throughout the years? IT CONTINUES” gave me anxiety) … a baby shower, a trip to Europe … and so much more.

But it wasn’t just this year. It’s every year. Mostly it’s because of money because I don’t want to travel and then be chained to the VPN all day. (Seriously, workdays shouldn’t COST MONEY.)

And talking with my favorite little girl (who is now a gorgeous YOUNG LADY), my heart is both light and heavy at the same time. I missed out on so much … not just of her life, but my own.

Work has slowed down this week. And I find that I miss being psychotically busy. And I know it’s only a very short matter of time before the new projects start kicking my ass even harder than the old ones.

I love working. I love what I do. I love creating and being a source of awesome things. But is it time to bento-box that love into eight-hour compartments and go fill up the other hours with stuff that will keep my heart as healthy as my mind?

I used to call one of my roommates Pork Chop. It was a term of endearment at the time, as a departing roommate found her through an ad and I was pleased she also was of the “pudgy pork roast ass” variety.

I’ll spare you what I ended up calling her when she defiled my bathroom and moved out in the middle of the night owing me several hundred dollars. Ahem.

Anyway, one of my boys from around that time just named his new dog Pork Chop. Twenty-five years has passed and it blows my mind that I still have an influence on what people think and say and do.

As I’ve always said, you’ll love me or hate me but you’ll NEVER forget me!

The title sums up the week.

It was a tough one. My 17-hour Monday workday was the longest. A friend came in from Thailand Tuesday and I got to spend quality time with him this week. Another friend who recently left Florida for my “home state” of Virginia (shut up, D.C. is my adopted home. Although I really have been missing Pittsburgh of late) came back to town and it was so good to have him back.

And today they both said goodbye.

I cried the first part of the ride home. Usually I cry on the way to work. But this week I looked forward to seeing my friends, and to hanging out with them and our colleagues after-hours for a change because I managed to leave before 7 for the middle three days of the week.

Even the security guard almost fell over dead when she saw me skate out yesterday. Well, “skate out” after 6. Isn’t it sad that my “leaving early” is others’ “working overtime”?

Anyway, work was hard this week. I discovered pockets of rage I didn’t know I had. I mean, I almost broke my phone after one particularly frustrating call.

And I felt the bus tracks on my back Monday. Which manifested in me feeling the ice and wrath today big-time from someone I didn’t mean to get thrown under with me.

It was nice being at home Monday but I fear my presence stressed mom out to unprecedented proportions. And she’s frail already.

I did get validated by the smarty-pants people in tech this week. The head of the department wanted to learn all the systems I have to use. (I swear I spend 2 hours a day editing and the other 10-15 being my own software and systems support.) He said no reasonable human being probably could remember all the steps to all the systems I use. I really do have my own unique role that no one can replicate. I guess it’s job security but I do get those “two months before leaving Ye Olde Employment Establishment” twinges when I started to stop caring about abdicating my title of Goddess of All She Surveys.

(If not for the Great Recession, I wonder if I would have ever left D.C. I genuinely don’t think I would have.)

Anyway, the good outweighed the bad this week. And there were liberal heaping steaming piles of both.

I hope I can look forward to days and weeks like these again. Because if Ye Olde Employment Establishment did anything right, it was to ensure we played as hard as we worked. We didn’t play often but when we did, we didn’t get an ounce of shit for it.

Anyway, goodbyes. My boys are off to their next destinations this weekend. And here I sit, stuck in neutral and living a mile from the airport and watching and wishing I could be on one of those flying birds, too.

I had trouble with today’s goodbyes. I mean, I was cheerful and full of hugs and happy thoughts and “can’t wait till next times.” But I’ve said enough goodbyes in my life to last ten thousand lifetimes. I miss my D.C. family. I miss my college friends from Pittsburgh. I miss my blog friends from Long Beach to London. I miss the colleagues who saw me more than my family. I’d say I miss the people I’ve dated but my jobs never let me get to know them well enough, anyway.

After I wiped my tears away and went to the gas station that serves as the halfway point between the alligator farm and the beach I only see for three minutes during the morning commute, I decided it’s time to find my great love.

Mom often asks me, if I met the right guy, would he put up with the fact that I work all day and do far too many favors for friends in my free time? And you know what? I would cut back. Way back.

I don’t want to imply I have a choice now and I choose to drive myself into an old-age home sixty years too early. I just mean that if I weren’t SO worried about money and security because I’ve got mouths to feed that can’t feed themselves. But once I can evaluate whether I”m doing it for the love of something more than the rent check clearing, I would be a better asset to everyone.

So, love. Count me in. It’s time to stop saying goodbye. Time to find someone who wants to stick around, whom I WANT to stick around. What the hell, right? I’ve done everything else. Time for a real challenge and I’m thinking this is it!

Well, car appointment in the a.m. since Car Clinic once again failed me on their repairs. Good times …

I used to go to The Point in Pittsburgh to watch Fourth of July fireworks. WDVE always blasted the guitar version of the Star-Spangled Banner.

I stopped going to fireworks when my grandmother died on this day 14 years ago. While the fireworks were going off. Appropriately enough.

I swore to avert my eyes every time a firework occurred within earshot after that. And did.

When I moved to D.C. a few years later, I Metro’d my happy ass to the National Mall to see their spectacular display. Nothing beat what the Zambellis did in Pittsburgh because it was what I loved most, but I did have to admit the capital put on a hell of a show.

In Florida, I stay on my balcony and watch fireworks from six different communities. This year’s were kind of meh, probably because of the rain. They will never compare to what I saw up north. And if I’m being honest, Walt Disney World does fireworks like no one else on earth.

But no matter the quality of the show or the location or the company, I’m glad I let myself enjoy fireworks again.

Tomorrow is going to be sheer hell at work and I’ve spent the day worrying about it (but not doing anything about it). So I’m happy that for the two hours I spent at the beach today and the 30 minutes I spent watching the illuminations in the sky, I can say I had a good day.

Love you, Gram. Miss the shit out of you, lady. If anyone has found a way to give ’em all hell up in heaven, I know you have. Shine on you fabulous firecracker, you.