Caterwauling

One year ago today, it was just as rainy and miserable, but I was overflowing with hope and happiness. (One year ago tonight at midnight is a different story. …) I had such hopes that things were going to work out with YKW and me. I remember calling him at home on my lunchtime smoke break; I remember going out to happy hour and bowling (of all things!) after I got done with work. I remember kissing him, celebrating him, wanting him. I don’t think about that time much anymore, but today I’m entitled. What I wouldn’t give to drown in his eyes just one more time. …

I’ll be better tomorrow. In fact, tomorrow is my one-year anniversary of driving (well, having Mom drive) Samantha Jones out of the dealership. Happy birthday Samantha!!!

I cannot begin to describe how freaked out we are at the office today with this newest shooting.

THIS JUST IN

Sharpshooters are stationed in a local apartment tower (I won’t post it just in case the killer is computer literate), aiming at the Mobil station across the street from my work, as well as pointing toward I-395, because based on the geographical profile, if Alexandria, VA, becomes a target, that’s the most likely area where the killer may strike. SM said HR told her this (and HR used to work for the FBI) — yet they’re not disseminating the info to staff, for some reason. All of us go there for gas and snacks … why WOULDN’T she share the info?!?!

HE COULD BE IN OUR PARKING LOT, RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE!!!!

There WAS a strange white van, with black-tinted windows, parked in CompUSA’s lot, about 150 yards from here. I watched it pull in and 25 minutes later, I watched it leave. No one left the vehicle, as though the driver were casing the area. It’s rainy and miserable today, and he parked fairly far away from the store, where there were much closer spots available. I saw six police cars in 20 minutes cruise the area. At any rate, the van had six windows and had some kind of rails on top of it, particularly on the right side. SM is trying to get through to the tip line, just to share what I saw. Turns out that the same van parked on the other side of our building, too, according to the weird librarian. She and another employee notified the tip line of that. How strange. …

This is so fucked up. I’m too worried to work or do anything but try to find breaking news.

On a lighter note, my newest theory: the killer is wasting a lot of gas, driving around this area, where traffic is horrendous at best. Perhaps he’s road raging and simply follows bad drivers off the road to gas stations, where he pumps them full of lead while he’s filling his car with unleaded gas.

At any rate, this is why I don’t own a gun, ‘cuz I’d be throttling bad drivers myself.

I think ‘Love Me Back to Life’ is my favorite song so far on the new Bon Jovi album, “Bounce.” That’s what we all need right now, someone or something to awaken the sleeping hearts within so many of us. At any rate, Bon Jovi is on “Letterman” tonight, and that’s the only reason I’m even awake … that, and to do my Friday Five!!!

Before I get all philosophical, I just have to rant. IKEA Boy and I attended Photoshop classes in D.C. for the past two days, and we’re just lucky to have not gotten shot by the area sniper who claimed his seventh victim last night. And the dumb bitch in the class, Mimi, who couldn’t follow simple directions, was lucky we didn’t jump on her and beat the shit out of her … although I think the instructor might have wanted to at least have the honor of throwing the first punch. 🙂

But we will remember what happened OUTSIDE of classes more than we will remember the tips and tricks we learned in our sweltering little classroom.

Last night, we dragged our asses out of class and to the parking garage, only to find that he had locked his keys in his car, which the attendant couldn’t park (obviously), so it sat on the ramp all day. Hee hee. Mikey saved the day — he graciously fought rush hour traffic to bring IKEA Boy’s spare car key, and then we all went to the new Starbucks in Dupont Circle to kill time until the rush hour mess lifted a bit. All told, we left the seminar at 5 p.m. and got home close to 8 p.m. Oy vey.

But his little black cloud took a rest this morning so that mine could inflict some drama in our days. After he picked me up at 7:50 this morning, we crawled along I-395 at the warp speed of 10 mph. Finally, we jumped off the highway to grab some fuel and for him to grab a sandwich and a Frap. Well, he asked me to open the Frap for him, and what I did not realize was that he had managed to unscrew the lid beneath the plastic on the bottle, so when I yanked off the plastic, I thought I’d be nice and shake up the drink before opening the cap. BIG MISTAKE!!!!!! The milky brown liquid went flying EVERYWHERE!!! Long story short, we went back to his place so that we could tidy up the messes (my shirt, jeans and cute little frog socks were saturated, and we’re just happy that the car has a leather interior). At that point, it was 8:30 a.m. and the seminar began at 9. We got there at 10.

The drive there was hysterical. He whipped out his trusty crack pipe and smoked himself a fattie. Of course, I got the contact high, and we just laughed and laughed throughout the hour-plus commute. And because we figured things just couldn’t possibly get any worse for us, we hopped into the HOV lane illegally … I figured our defense would be something like, “But officer, we were so high that we truly THOUGHT there were three people in the car!!!” hee hee. Always an adventure. Always. 🙂 I know I’m NEVER going to hear the end of this, but I don’t care … if nothing else, my life is amusing!!!

I actually had a sweatshirt made with that saying, decades ago, it seems. It was black with sleeves that rolled up to show a gray fleece, and it had a big red heart and white lettering. I might have been in seventh grade, so here I am 15 years later, wishing I had that shirt so I could sleep in it tonight.

I’ve only listened to four songs off the new CD, “Bounce,” but I am loving it so far. Bon Jovi CDs are my catharsis — kind of like warm, fuzzy pajamas or flannel sheets to me. You know they’re going to feel heavenly before you even touch them, and you know you can pull them out on a crisp night and feel good while you’re in them. I tend to memorize Bon Jovi song lyrics immediately in a bizarre bonding ritual with the CDs, and when I revisit the albums, even if it’s years later, I haven’t forgotten a single syllable or guitar riff. I think their CDs have thwarted many a bout of depression on my part.

Today, I even bought “7800 Degrees Fahrenheit,” their second CD, since I finally wore out the cassette and frankly, it’s the last album I had left to convert to CD (except for the “Young Guns” soundtrack, but I’m fine with having that one as a cassette). I never did buy Richie Sambora’s CDs (he has two solo records), but when I have money, I’ll get around to it. I loved his solo stuff, but having limited funds most of my life, I invested in Jon’s solo efforts instead … and of course I was not disappointed. Although I’m trying to get my hands on the video movie, “Destination Anywhere” — does anyone know anyone who’s selling it? My online stores aren’t stocking it.

“Bounce,” the new CD, is an epic. Jon and Richie were inspired to start writing material for the album after 9/11/01, and each song completes a thought that flows fluidly into the next song. Yet each song stands freely, easily, beautifully. I always feel so good when I hear one of their CDs, although “These Days” will always be my favorite. But I think this one is going to rate as one of my favorites, just because I know where their hearts were when they wrote the melodies, and someday when I force my kids to listen to these songs, I will make sure that they know why the lyrics mean so much to me. They don’t tell of gore and tragedy … they tell of finding strength and hope when it seems to have all dissolved into an ocean of tears.

My history with Bon Jovi has been a long one, since 1984 when the band debuted, although everyone really jumped on the bandwagon in ’86 when “Slippery When Wet” was released. It was in ’88, though, when I was lying in my bed, listening to the newly released “New Jersey,” when I had the inspiration for my book series. I’ve been hammering out ideas for that series in the ensuring 14 years and always get a renewed interest when I hear a Bon Jovi song. It’s a story about a rock star, not so surprisingly. 😉 I don’t talk about my series much, but I will admit that I named my characters Stephanie and Jesse, and years after I did that, Jon proceeded to have three kids, and the first two were named Stephanie Rose and Jesse James. The connection that I felt to him was so eerie … my literary Stephanie and Jesse are like my own children, and those became his real-life children. Damn it, I need to meet this man someday. I just have to.

I saw that my other favorite artist, Melissa Etheridge, has a new book on the shelves. Who knew? I wanted it so badly, but I know my spending limits. Next pay, maybe. Or the one after that. But Bon Jovi was definitely today’s priority. I bought all of their albums since “Slippery” on the first day that they were released. It’s just my tradition to do that, just like I have to see them every time they play a concert in my city. There are some splurges that become necessities, and anything related to Bon Jovi qualifies as a spending emergency. 😉 And in November, I will be in the record stores, buying Melissa Etheridge’s concert DVD and hopefully the single for “The Weakness in Me” because I am going CRAZY without it!!!

This shit is getting out of control:

Map of Shootings

Let’s find this fucker (or merry band of fuckers) and send him over to the Middle East … The U.S. government isn’t swift enough to hunt down Bin Laden and Hussein, but I think this nutcase might just bring us world peace, if we can redirect his anger appropriately.

It’s just strange … what’s the pattern? He (they?) has hit a multitude of ages, genders and nationalities. What the fuck is going on in this world? I was so leery, putting gas in my car this morning. And I want to run out to pick up Bon Jovi’s new CD at Tower today, but of course it’s in a shopping mall, where trigger-happy-boy may just decide to have an after-work shooting spree.

I know … he needs Ecstasy, so he’d want to kiss everyone instead of shooting them. heh. Just another reason to legalize drugs!!! High people don’t get angry. Who’s with me on this one?!?!

No word from RK, re: the note I dropped him (below). No shocker there. Weirdly, though, he didn’t even sign in to AIM today, and he logs on around 7 a.m. every day. Did I scare him? lol — BOO!!! Waste of humanity, just like the rest of them.

Scary Boy Robbie has IMed a few times (I’ve had my “away” message on every time and truly WAS away) — he asked finally if he scared me away. ROFL. Uh, YEAH!!! Duh!!! I should just tell him to fuck off, but perhaps he’ll just drop off the radar screen within a few days. If not, then I’ll tell him to blow an ass gasket elsewhere. hee hee.

Got my Virginia driver’s license today (the DMV is known as the INS, and accordingly, I was the only American in there). Just looked at the damn thing, and they listed my sex as MALE. Motherfucking MALE!!! Did my breasts blind the guy behind the computer? They ain’t pasties, sweetie. God damn it, now I have to go back to the INS to get it fixed. ARGH!!! I wish they hadn’t confiscated my PA license — the photo was better, the license was prettier and everything on it was correct.

Otherwise, I had a fun day with IKEA Boy, shopping and assembling a piece of furniture for his bedroom (from IKEA, lol). I drove, for a change, and I think he’s going to need some more blond highlights to cover up the gray hairs I caused him to sprout today. I’m not a bad driver, just a Type A on crack. And, the spirit of Maddie invaded my body (which frightened IKEA Boy) — I was all “Ass-HOLE!!!” and “Kiss my fat, furry ass!” on I-395. I can’t help it and frankly, I don’t remember much of what I said or did, other than road raged between Springfield Mall and Pentagon City. But now I know why — I’m a man, and my driver’s license says so.

One could always make the argument that I am a gay man in a woman’s body, so naturally the cashier at the INS could have been confused. 🙂

Tiff just made my night by feeding me a sweet treat. Yum! And she also gets the Roommate of the Year Award (and so what if she’s the only roomie I’ve had this year?) because there is a long shot that I can get a little action in a couple of weekends, and she offered to make herself scarce, just in case. Woo hoo!!! Thank you, thank you!!! At any rate, either A.) it won’t happen, or B.) I’ll be too messed up to even drive here, and the offer will be for naught. But at any rate, when I DO roll in after a night of partying (and because it’s Madonnarama at Nation, I shall be happily fucked up!), it’s usually not till after 7 a.m. anyway, so she’d probably be up and out by the time I got back here. Aaah, keep your fingers crossed for me!!! I should design a cologne called “Desperation” (or does it exist already? lol). Or, more directly, “Somebody PLEASE Fuck Me!!!” Do you think I can get Neiman-Marcus or Nordstrom to carry that fragrance? I’m tired of wearing my Heterosexual Male Repellent!!!

Got up early and kicked off a full-blown, white-trash shopping day. And I LOVED it!!!

Went to Wal-Mart (“Wally’s”), Target (“Boutique Tar-zhay”) and a whole lotta “dollar stores” throughout Alexandria and Springfield. I was just one happy little dollar-store whore today. Woo hoo!!! Not to mention that SM and I cleaned out (well, she was really the one) the dollar store next to Bally’s yesterday. I have lots of new crap, and it was dirt cheap (except the damn Tampax … I refuse to buy “discount” tampons!). It’s amazing what a bargain shopper I have become in recent months.

Personal Ad Hell, Part Deux

One of the reasons I liked RK was, in his ad, he stated:

“If you call with in the next 20 minutes, we will throw in the sensitive and ‘nice guy’ options as well as YES a set of ginsu steak knives. CALL NOW!!!! Operators are standing by.”

The ad was creatively done, and it prompted me to respond (to his initial response to my ad) that he’d be sold if he just met me, and that there was a free toaster in it for him if he wasn’t satisfied.

Well. …

Inspired by yesterday’s post, I wrote to him this morning. I wanted to be more “cavalier,” but the fact of the matter is that I really liked the guy. Here’s the note:

RK,

Cavalier

Mom said that if he DOES send a set of knives, that would be the best damn real-life love story she’d ever heard of. But then again, would he really trust me with a knife? We ARE just a few miles from where Lorena Bobbitt chopped off Johnny’s proud little pecker … RK might hope to NOT inspire me in such a way!!!

I decided to hide my Match.com personals profile, and I should do the same with my ad on Kiss.com. I still haven’t gotten any responses to my Lavalife.com ad, so I am going to leave that one up for awhile. Besides, on the last one, I was a bit outrageous and asked for, well, what I really want. And that’s probably why I’m not getting it!!! lol

Match.com is being bitchy and telling me that I have to purchase a membership package in order to respond to recent letters I’ve received from other members. Humph. Never had to do that before. With Kiss.com, you have to purchase a membership before you can even read the letters you’ve received (and they keep telling me that my inbox has quite a few responses, but I have to pay to open my inbox). Fuckers. Look, I know that it isn’t some philanthropist named Cupid who is operating these sites, but based on the yo-yos I’ve either met or with whom I’ve had discussions, I am loath to pay to meet more morons, when I can do that for free at the bar at Bennigan’s. 😉

Recently, I got a response from “Robbie” (that’s what he calls himself). Seemed nice and fun and a tad bit scary, all at once. Then he sent me a link to his website, and well, the photo totally turned me off. I’m not into horror and gore and shit like that, and well, considering that I’ve never met the guy and this is my first impression of him, well, I can’t say that I’m dying to meet him in person.

But it gets worse. He said he’s an aspiring writer and mentioned that he’d love it if I’d be willing to critique some of his fiction (as I am a writer for a living). I said, sure, send me something and I’d be glad to read it. Well, he sent something two days ago that I still haven’t managed to bring myself to read. When I saw it in my email, it was named “assgas~1.doc.” Ugh. I let it sit in my inbox for half a day before I actually opened it to learn that the title was actually “ass gasket” — what the f@*k?!?! Perhaps it is a brilliant story, and I am just too prissy to get past the title, but gaaah, would a normal single man send something like this to the lady whom he’s trying to impress?

I sent a quick note late last night, stating that the title scared me and that when I found the time (and hint, hint, the inclination) to open this document, I’d get back with my critique. That still hasn’t happened. 🙂 I shared the web photo with Tiff and IKEA Boy and Mikey, and they were all slightly horrified and all of them told me to NOT e-mail back. Thank goodness, I didn’t share my last name or place of employment. Thank goodness.

With RK, I shared all of my personal stuff right away. I wanted to get to know him, and I wanted him to know me. I had such a good feeling about him, like he would be in my life for a long time to come. How was I to ever predict that he’d fall off the face of the fucking earth?!?! I’m disappointed that my intuition told me that he was special. My sixth sense usually pegs people correctly from the get-go, and it’s sad that I had a whole lotta hopes for him, for nothing.

At any rate, this new guy emailed me, named Brian. But I can’t respond to his charming introductory letter till I pay a RECURRING membership fee at Match.com. That’s how they screw you … they keep on billing your credit card. It’s $25/month, with different plans that go up to $100/yr. I would NEVER pay for those services for a year (in the hopes I’d meet someone sooner than that). But I don’t have $25 to spare right now (I have two phone bills on my bed, each totaling more than $60, for phone service I don’t even fucking use because all normal people on earth use their cell phones for everything and I hate wasting what little fucking money I have on a fucking landline. Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ!!!! ARGH!!!).

But I’ll never win that battle, so why even keep trying? Even IKEA Boy is trashing his landline. I’d love to show MCI (like I showed Verizon) that I can live just fine without their monthly bills.

At any rate, I have to pay $25 before my e-mails will go through to Brian (and I tried pushing them through, but Match.com keeps reminding me to pay before I try it again). I’m not sure what to do. At this point, I took down my personal ad for awhile. If I can’t reply to my responses, why even have the ad out there? Like IKEA Boy told me tonight, I should just go into a bar and pick somebody up … it’s easier and cheaper!!! Plus, you get to see what they look like in person, and if you’re lucky, you won’t even have to talk to them all that much! lol. Sounds like a new plan to pursue. Stay tuned. …

Oooh, a Friday Five that’s fit for a “Sex and the City” gal. …

1. What size shoe do you wear?

If I’m being cheap and going to Payless, I’d say a 9, but that depends on how crappy the shoes are made, because that can become a 9 wide very easily. In a good shoe, I’d say 8 1/2, but when can I afford to buy good shoes? 😉

2. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

Um, upward of 60. Maybe 75. Or more. I have boxes of shoes that I haven’t even opened since my hellacious move in June.

3. What type of shoe do you prefer (boots, sneakers, pumps, etc.)?

Mmm. Love sandals with a wedge. I’m 5-foot-3 and three-quarters, so anything that pushes me up to that 5-foot-4 mark makes me happy. Sandals rule! I love to paint my toenails and wear toe rings and anklets, to complement the shoes of the day. 🙂

4. Describe your favorite pair of shoes. Why are they your favorite?

I can’t even remember most of the shoes that I’ve bought over the last year, if that tells you how fickle I am. But I do have a pair of winter-white boots that make me look forward to inclement weather. They’re more fashionable than functional, but I love light-colored boots (because I think black shoes in general make me look shorter), especially with a two-inch-heel (again, the shortness issue is resolved). And they just go with everything!!!

5. What’s the most you’ve spent on one pair of shoes?

$29.99. I’m not kidding — I go for quantity over quality. I figure, the damn things wear out anyway, and you always have assholes and/or their bratty kids stepping on your feet when you’re out in public, so why spend oodles of money on something you’re going to eventually pitch? Although when it comes to boots, I’ve been known to spend a little more on those (at least $70) because those just don’t come cheap. Boots are worth the investment because when some trailer trash mama and her little minions come a-stompin’ on your feet, one kick with a booted foot, and you’ve just rid mama of one mouth to feed, unless she pulls Junior out of the tree that you just booted him into!!!

This workplace is reminding me more and more of Two Strikes, but I actually paid my former employer a compliment today. Here, the executives all hate each other and can’t agree on anything, but at Two Strikes, we all had respect for each other and took the care and effort to battle things out among ourselves so that we would emerge with a common message for the staff. Some of our arguments were downright brutal, but damn it, we all had our say and therefore we all believed in the messages we conveyed. Here, you get five different messages from five different execs.

At any rate, the waters are still. For now. Pussy Demure apologized to IKEA Boy for the junior high comment but could not respond when he asked why he was not included in a meeting about the editorial content of our publication — after all, he’s only the editor. She slithered away in a huff … I saw her dragging her crusty ass past my door in a dither as she exited his office.

Jackie Chan not only edited the “fired” portion of the past president’s quote, but he pretty much deleted a quarter of the article and softened another percentage of it. Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ. I emailed SM to ask for us to make appointments together at IKEA Boy’s psychiatrist … it seems as if she and I are the only two people in this building who aren’t medicated. Perhaps we should hop on the bandwagon before it’s too late.

Lest it not be obvious, I have NO DESIRE WHATSOEVER to do any work. Today was a waste of a perfectly good suit. 🙂 And the scandalous underwear — I should’ve saved ’em for Oct. 7 (see post below).