Caterwauling

Sagacity.

I’m another year older, another year wiser, and it’s OFFICIALLY my one-year anniversary at Three Strikes!!! June 2001 was such a mind-boggling month in my life … how was I to know that June 2002 would be just as dramatic?!?!

So much has happened, from starting this job to my wretched June 23 debacle last year and the horrendous week-o-soul-searching that led up to it. So many friends have drifted into my life and drifted out; similarly, some came in screaming and left with a bang. Six men (yes, only six!) found their ways into my bed in the last 12 months .. many within the same week! LOL … The job has both saved and killed me, depending on whatever family circumstance was occuring at the time and needed more attention. I’ve hated and loved myself, for a variety of reasons — some were recurring issues; some simply sprang out of nowhere and dissolved into the abyss of forgotten thoughts just as quickly as they arose.

I’m a different person than I was a year ago, in so many ways. I am more reserved, less likely to react based solely on emotion, and having seen the world from the top of the corporate food chain, I am more responsible as well as responsive. But that’s just work-related. Personally, after getting over last June’s debacle (which took quite a few weeks, at least), I am more impulsive, more likely to go after what I really want instead of what is there, and more inclined to just enjoy the moments instead of wishing for more. I also came to a point where the memory bank is acquiring more images, and I now take the time to sit and reflect … and even smile … at the escapades that I have either created or enjoyed (or both!).

One thing that is different: I was never afraid. And I’ve spent the last year being afraid. But the fear is dissolving rapidly. I’m going to make it in this world, and even if I have to struggle (financially, emotionally, etc.) till the day I die, I will die a happy woman. Because I will have done everything (and everyone!) on my wish list. 😀 Or at least I will have had some damn good fantasies about them, if I simply can’t have them all!!!

I write this as I suffer through a horrendous workday, with piles of new projects to complete in the next seven days when I can’t even get to the shit that’s been sitting on my desk for several months. I may not sleep till after June 21, my last day of work, but I’ll have maximized my abilities, and I will have no regrets that I “could’ve, should’ve, etc.” done more. I will reflect upon my job and my life in Pittsburgh the way I have reflected upon everything else: with a sense of pride, with a sense of humor, with a sense of accomplishment.

Damn it, I ROCK!!!!

Indigestion.

Forgive me, but I’m havin’ girly problems. Oh, my achin’ ovaries. …

I officially did NOTHING at work today! I must qualify to become related to Her Royal Pretentiousness, based on that alone (that would make me Red-Headed Stepchild, for sure!). Not saying HRP doesn’t work, but her family sure doesn’t, minus her sister, who works for Operations and therefore busts her ass like the rest of us.

Charolette … I have to say that the next one off “Survivor” island is gonna be CTL, if Republican Woman doesn’t beat him to the punch to be the next exile! The big, bad meeting today for their department was futile, as expected. Lots of threats but no real plan of action. An ambush, according to Lab Rat. What a pity. When Program Directeur starts off the next staff meeting and says, as usual, “What is it we do that no one else does?” … instead of “Kynship Care!” being the response, it should be, “Driving out the talented, hardworking staff people!” LOL

Note to readers: “Kynship” is meant to have this blog NOT show up in search engines! A fellow disgruntled staff member was recently online and ran a search for Kaufmann’s and my resume popped up!!!! OOOOPS!!!! She laughed and said she’s kept it a secret for weeks but had to chuckle to herself that I was obviously looking for a way out of Two Strikes!!!

Memories.

A message from an old friend, Vaughan:

“Hey there Dawn.

I somehow was aware of your eventual departure to the land for lovers, although I was uninformed of the actual time. Although we have not had the pleasure of sharing intoxication lately, it seems as though time will permit one more round of unadulterated bliss. Please count me in, and barring your response, as many of my coworkers as I can muster. As I’m sure you’ve heard, your replacement, (well, half of them), is as equally free-spirited and approaching your talent level. She also shares the same flair for having a good time at any expense, so I will do my damnedest to bring her along, at least. Please also send methods of remaining in contact with you down in VA. I’m envious; it is that area I hope to move to someday as well. Take care, and I’ll hope to see you next Friday.”

What a sweetie!

Pain.

Sunburned like all hell. Ow! Hurts to breathe. Clothing bad, very bad, today. Casual day at the Wasteland starts tomorrow … too bad today can’t be Naked Day, ‘cuz all I wanna do is rip my jacket off.

Lab Rat and I attended our LAST-EVER STAFF MEETING today. Yeeeeaaaaahhhhh!!!!!! Lunatics, one and all. Part of me was kinda sad to leave all this behind; then the other part of me said Woooooo-Shhiiiiitttt!!! I am Outta Here!!! So now HRP wants to give kids in foster care classes in etiquette. I think we should pilot the program on staff … so many are just so uncouth. HRP was talking about that these kids might meet the President someday and not know which fork to use. Crap, if my staff met the president, Incoherent Twit would be in fishnets and talk with her mouth full. Oh, god … I feel a pet peeve coming on …. IT always eats powdered donuts and never wipes the corners of her mouth (does she leave cum crusted in the corners after she performs BJs?). I cringe when someone offers donuts at a meeting … she always heads for the powdered. UGH!!!

Anyway, I’ve been out of the office (thankfully) for three days … better get to work! More bitching to come later!!!!

Alive.

Poor Samantha Jones was nearly creamed several times during my drive home this evening. I’m just pissed, even though she is safe and sound in her little spot on my street.

I realize that I’m not the *best* driver on earth … especially for the fact that I’ve only been driving for the seven months that I’ve owned my car. But because I’ve had to wait so long for her, I treat her with love and respect … I have had to work very hard and had to pay my dues as a Port Authority Whore for 10 years, so she means the world to me. What bugs the shit out of me is that neither my car nor my life have any value to random strangers on the Parkway or even on the shitty side streets of Pittsburgh.

Tonight, I just had a bad feeling as I drove the 15 miles from the Manson Family abode (i.e., my family). And after a whole lot of near-misses, I almost got wiped out by two cars full of teenage boys at the intersection of Arlington and McArdle. I was in the proper lane, but they came up the wrong way and darted in front of me. The second car at least stopped while I was cussing out the brats in the first car, and I let the second car go anyway, just because I didn’t want their punk asses tailgating me as I began the painful ascent up the trolley tracks into Allentown. But the whole premise of it pissed me off … I am truly (for the most part) a careful driver (minus some blonde moments!), and despite getting the occasional thrill for blowing through a red light or going at least 15 miles above the speed limit here and there, I think my judgment is pretty good. Further, I’ve lived in this city my whole life, and I know my way around and have always paid attention to the weird way that lanes begin and dissolve and how if you make a wrong turn, you end up four ZIP codes from where you originally planned to be. And yet, in one split second, two cars full of punk kids can massacre, or simply end, the life of yourself and/or your car.

Not to say that it’s just kids … I’ve been tailgated by assholes in Monster Trucks more times than I care to recount. Christ, one asshole followed me along the High-Level Bridge and all the way through Squirrel Hill and onto the Parkway, no more than 12 inches behind me (as I ignored the 30 mph speed limit and went no lower than 55), with his lights blinding me in my rearview mirror. MoFo. Look, my car is tiny. People collect cars like mine and display them in little cases on their mantle. Or like my one friend said, he would need two of them, so he can strap them to his feet and use them as rollerskates! Ahem. At any rate, my little car (with its little engine and therefore little power) can totally be crushed if one of those big-ass tanks taps it.

Speaking of headlights, these ASSHOLES who refuse to replace one dead headlight and therefore DRIVE WITH THEIR FUCKING HIGH BEAMS SHINING need to die. Just die. They deserve nothing better than eternal hellfires and brimstone and Her Royal Pretentiousness telling them repeatedly that they need to rise “to the next level.” Another joy of driving tonight: being blinded by one bright-ass headlight, for 8 miles, from McKeesport to Homestead. Dumb asses, one and all. Who can concentrate on the road when their right temple is throbbing into the next lane?

I almost crashed into an orange barrel on the Parkway tonight. There were about 12 of them, in a cluster, and a sign that the right lane was closed, yet you have to turn right to take the Second Avenue exit, which was the one I wanted. Talk about a split-second decision: you’re told the lane is closed, and yet you see about a five-foot-wide opening at the top of the exit, surrounded by barrels-o-plenty. Honestly, I thought those barrels were going to go up in the air, like when you hit a perfect strike in bowling (a strike is something I’ve achieved, oh, twice in my lifetime, but I almost had one tonight!). Fucking construction. It’s everywhere. Many have joked that our state color should be orange, and our state tree should be a barrel with a light on top of it. And of course our state flag should be orange with a blue construction worker on it. But for all the construction, we have more potholes than China has rice. Where is Jimmy Hoffa? Probably fell in a fucking pothole on Mosside Boulevard.

I know I shouldn’t whine, because the Parkway is like spring break in comparison to the Capital Beltway. But I will piss and moan about that when the time comes. And there are illiterate drivers everywhere. Look at Incoherent Twit … even she was given a license, probably from giving the instructor a BJ.

On that note, I’m going to bed. Ugly, ugly image there!!!

Glad to be home safe. 😀 Hoping all of you are safe tonight as well.

Random.

Just wanted to post a cute thought here, amidst all my pissing and moaning. When CTL and I were talking about F/OM scheduling the retreat on my last day and that my supervisor wouldn’t be around to take me out to lunch, CTL said, “So I’ll take you to dinner.” I thought that was way sweet. 🙂

F/OM and I had a nice conversation today. He asked how I’m doing, *really.* I said that I am honestly feeling great. I am relaxed, I am doing my work and I am not stressing to death anymore about what I cannot, and never could, control at work. I said that if only this peaceful feeling would have existed all along, perhaps the outcome (i.e., my departure) would have been much different. He laughed heartily and said, in his unique F/OM voice, “Take me with you!!!” I have always told him I wanted to take him with me, and I reminded him of the same.

Turns out, I must hand over all my projects to Lori, the poor, dear consultant. Even the stuff that’s not due till end of summer, things of which I am more than capable of completing from a distance. She’s trying to have a positive attitude about it … but even she knows that as hard as she will try to accommodate all the extra work, it will be a struggle, and well, as far as Two Strikes’ queen bee, you’ve got to “make it happen” regardless of your actual ability to do so. I was telling Lori how it’s too bad, but now I am finally confident in my abilities and comfortable with my agency knowledge … things aren’t such a struggle because I’ve been here a year now and see how I can establish a routine … finally.

Oh, I just got a card in the mail from the agency … congratulating me on making it to my one-year anniversary. HA!!!

Whoa.

The world MUST be ending (given recent tornado and nasty storm outside right now), but get this … I just got invited to the Melissa Etheridge concert on Aug. 4. CMU Boy comes through!!!

:::smiles and smiles and smiles::::

Un-freaking-believable.

If you read Lab Rat’s post, you’ll know that today pretty much started off for shit. And so it continues.

I was having a mega-smoke break with CTL when I learned that F/OM requested that his department have an all-day retreat on my last day. You know, on my last day, if nothing else, my supervisor is supposed to take me to lunch. In fact, your supervisor is supposed to take you to lunch on your FIRST day, and everyone else in the agency (except me) was entitled to that privilege. So now, it looks like I won’t even have a farewell luncheon. Meanwhile, Brat was able to invite the whole Operations Team to his. Maybe that was to serve as my sendoff meal as well! 😉

Don’t know why it irritates me so much. Wait, yes I do. It’s because I have poured my heart, sweat and tears into this goddamned Wasteland, and they can’t even buy me a fucking sandwich to say thanks.

Backsliding.

I am feeling really bad right now, on a variety of levels. Maybe it was thinking that I heard YKW’s voice that threw me for a loop. I always used to hear his voice and feel, well, good. I liked knowing that he was near, even if I wasn’t in the conversation. Inevitably, it would lead to some amount of eye contact, at any rate, when he was in the area. Perhaps I thought of him as a kindred … I could always sense him when he was in the vicinity. And I didn’t have to be touching him to feel him.

Am IMing with Charolette right now … our conversation moved on to him and what he’s doing and wondering why we haven’t heard from him. Look, it just needs to be said that my life is no different without him … the friendship was wonderful and I hope it still exists. But I guess at this moment, I am just feeling so empty, so devoid of any purpose, and it had better not be because he has put such distance between us. I will feel better tomorrow, I know it. But I am hurting nonetheless.

“You’re my distance, destination of choice

I’d give anything just to hear your voice

I could have passed you on the street without saying a word

Most times, I miss the voice that goes unheard.

What if I missed you, you got caught in the sun

What if I did something, never to be undone?”

— Course of Nature, “Caught in the Sun” —

And as for my recent dating spree, I have to reel myself in, to ensure that I am really interested in the people themselves and not just because there is this massive void in my heart (and crotch) that must be filled. LOL … Look, I know I’m a better person than that, and I do appreciate these individuals for their strengths, their dreams, and their affection for me. I’m just trying not to imagine what life would have been like had YKW and I become something. I refuse to envision it. Refuse. Begone, vile images! Begone!

But the sadness remains, if nothing else.

At any rate, I hope I do not hurt those who care about me, because I’ve felt enough hurt for everyone in the world, and nobody deserves to feel this way. I just want to feel good … about myself, about someone else, about my place in this world.

Judd always said that the one who tamed me, would have my heart forever. Was he right? Will anyone tame the wild streak in me? And will I let him, when he tries?!?!

Surreality.

I thought I heard his voice today. My heart ceased to beat, my lips went dry, the earth stood still.

And then I realized that I was just imagining it, that it just wasn’t possible.

Blah.