Caterwauling

One of my favorite interviewees sent me a gift today — a silver-and-black pen/stylus in a pretty silver case. The message in the card:

“I hope this little gift helps you with your already great gift for writing!”

*sob* That really made my day!

The muse is back. It’s a sequel to her previous visit. This one, though, is edited to protect the innocent. 🙂

Version of myself

I’ve changed so much

Since you crashed into my world

And I’d thought I was so

Articulate and thoughtful and sensitive

But I guess I wasn’t

At least, not enough

There’s something about you

That makes me want to be

A better version of myself

Not necessarily a different person

Nor someone whom you would find

Attractive or pleasant to be around

I don’t know

I guess I have watched you

For some time now

And you continually

Have this effect on me

I mean, I’ve always said

Exactly what’s on my mind

At the exact moment it occurs to me

And I’ve never really edited or censored

The slightest syllable

That has fallen from my lips

But you’re so sensitive

So observant, attentive and

So sweet

That I’d rather bleed myself dry

Than ever cause a moment of hurt

Or confusion

Or discomfort

In your life

You’ve seen enough of that already

And I still say whatever I want

But I take so much more time

More care

More pause

With my words and thoughts

Have you noticed the difference

Or have you always known

This better person resides within me

Somewhere

I’ve noticed

In dialoging with you

That I mentally stop myself

Before I say something

That could be misconstrued

And revise how I say it

(Sometimes, I revise it after

The wrong words have fallen

From my lips

And still you listen to me openly)

Because I’d rather my voice

Be something you want to hear

Again

When we’re apart

And lately

You’ve told me how you enjoy

Our time together

Our chats

Our laughter

And the feeling is mutual

But how do I say this

Without editing out too much

The sentiment behind it

How do I say that

Not only do I like

Talking so intensely as we have

But that I’ve come to depend on it

More than any breath of oxygen

I could ever inhale

That I not only adore you

But also the person I become

When we’re in touch

Sometimes I feel

We’ve gone as far as we could

And there’s always been that line

That we’ve sworn not to cross

(Although, let’s face it, it’s been blurred

For quite awhile now)

You’ve been my hero

On so many occasions

And I’d like to be the same for you

In a different environment

A deeper one

A more personal one

Maybe on the other side of that surface

That we’re so conscious of

I’m tired of being so aware

That there are certain things

We should never say

Never feel

Never dream about

But the only ones placing those restrictions

On us

Are us

So what if

I told you all of this

How much I admire you

How much I’ve come to adore you

How much better a version of myself

That I have become

With your unknowing influence

And how much better I could be

With a simple touch

To accompany the smiles

The laughter

The incredible times

We seem to have

And seem to have in store

For a long time to come

If only we let it happen

Because this version of me

Fits so well with you.

OK, I’ve made about three dozen pretzel wreaths and about four dozen balls. My back HURTS!!!

I took a break to watch “Daria” (where I heard my favorite line, in response to a psychiatrist asking her if she always talks to computers, “Only when the refrigerator is mad at me.” *snort*) and decided to get back to the Betty Crocked (you heard me right) schtick. I started two cookie recipes, only to find that I am missing unsweetened cocoa for one and honey for the other. Jimminy Christmas, what the hell? I could always do peanut butter balls, but my back will never forgive me for that.

Oh, my apartment rental place thought it would be cute to turn off the heat in our building during business hours. This, I did not have a problem with, because it was a nice day outside. But now, at 10:15 p.m., I am cold and SO IS THE AIR IN MY APARTMENT. Oh yes, the heat is NOT back on — it’s all a/c right now. And I haven’t managed to get my electric blanket and comforter cleaned, so it’ll be layers of clothing tonight. *sigh*

Unrelated, I had a scheme cooked up. One thing you need to understand about me is that I am always up to something. People always comment that I always have a look on my face that makes them think I am up to no good. They are right. 🙂 Problem is, I am motivated by my schemes, and when I call them off, it’s like a huge letdown. And I’m calling off the new one. For now, anyway, till a better one occurs to me.

The next two days at work are going to be cake, I tell you. Thank god. I’m overdue for some slacking. I just have to do some schedules for the new year, but I have them down on paper already; I just need to reformat and distribute them. Nearly everyone is out of the office, so I can actually keep my door open without fear of unwanted visitors. Woo hoo! I always have a big “Do Not Disturb — Disturbed Enough Already!” sign up, and it usually keeps out the “career visitors.” At least the office gossips had the sense to take vacation days this week instead of showing up and then taking vacation on company time! 🙂

OK, next time I set about making Kahlua balls, amaretto balls and buckeyes, will somebody PLEASE slap some sense into me and force me to buy a food processor? Sheesh. I’ve been smashing cookies and nuts in plastic bags with the back of an ice cream scoop till my arms are sore.

Well, maybe not slap sense into me, but a few swats to the bottom would suffice. 🙂

I’m experimenting with recipes today. I’ll probably have to make more come New Year’s time. And the nuts still aren’t smashed into a fine enough powder for my taste. But still, I’m playing with balls, and I haven’t done that in a LONG time!!! (I guess I’ve lost my touch!)

Rejected title: ‘You ain’t gonna shit right for a week!’

My god, it is pandemonium out there in the stores today! I Everyone’s cranky and rude and literally shoving you out of the way if you take two minutes to figure out which brand of cat food you feel like buying. Sheesh.

I was in line at Wal-Mart today, and the woman behind me kept bumping me in the ass with her cart. Luckily, my ass is padded quite adequately, so it wasn’t that she was inflicting pain or anything. But seriously, I was just rocking back and forth on my feet, and the second I would lean forward, she would think I was moving and would move her buggy farther up my ass. And when I went to run my credit card in the machine, she knocked me off my feet one last time. I am not real pleasant anyway, but I finally turned around and said, “Can ya quit shoving the cart up my ass PLEASE?” She quickly apologized and didn’t move another inch till I had taken my bags and left the line. Asshole.

Then I got the bright idea that I feel like baking — money is tight this year, so I figured that maybe I should make some sweet treats for my friends (in hopes, I’ll admit, that they will acquire nice, cushy asses like mine after eating lots of cookies. LOL). Of course, I got everything but the Kahlua (to make Kahlua balls — Angie’s were such a hit at Shawn’s party that I’m going to try to replicate the recipe), but I’ll just do that tomorrow. At this late hour, I don’t much feel like baking.

I’m going to attempt to do my pretzel wreaths — they’re simple but tiring. What you do is dip the top of small pretzels into white chocolate and do two circles, one on top of the other and alternating. Then you take licorice strings and lace up the ends that aren’t dipped. I even bought red and green sprinkles to decorate the white chocolate. Yeah, I get into this shit sometimes. 🙂 Although, knowing me, the ingredients will sit here for the next year or two until I actually get up the energy to make them. 🙂

Shawn and I went to see “Bad Santa” yesterday at this theater on Wisconsin Avenue that we walked around for 15 minutes in the freezing cold, trying to find it. There are signs everywhere for it, but who’da thunk it that you’d have to go around the block and around the side of a building and down some steps to see the fucking theater?

Ahem.

In any event, it was a dark comedy (and totally up our alley). Our favorite line (and there were many to choose from) was when Billy Bob Thornton was butt-fucking a woman in a dressing room, and John Ritter as the store manager overheard Billy saying, “You ain’t gonna shit right for a week!” *snort* Beautiful, I tell you.

It’s just not Christmas for me this year. I used to adore the holiday — from the shopping to the decorating to the parties and gift exchanges. Now, it’s like I can barely get through the season. This year, everyone’s poor (including family), so we’ve all agreed to not exchange gifts. And I didn’t decorate, either. I’m not the slightest bit religious (other than screaming “Oh God” in bed sometimes — whether with or without a partner — thank you Radio Shack for your double A battery sale! LOL), so the meaning of the season is kind of lost on me anyway, especially without my own traditions in effect. That’s kind of why I wanted to do some baking — to at least make some holiday-related treats to give away (and to consume in mass quantities, of course!).

If anyone’s got any neat cookie recipes, though, I’d love to have them. Feel free to post ’em in the comments — Mom and I are going to do the “family” thing and do some baking when I trek up to Pittsburgh later this week.

John has the best list for Santa ever!

In honor of Shawn’s holiday party last night, Angie and I made balls. Lots and lots of balls. She made amaretto balls and Kahlua balls; I was a perfect Little Suzy Homewrecker Maker and cooked spinach balls and cocktail meatballs.

Too weary to post much else — need to get back to my coffee and let the hellcat Kadi out of her cage. 🙂 Have a good Saturday, friends!

I feel fucking amazing today. I truly believe 2004 is going to be “my year.” I always have better luck in even-numbered years anyway, but this time, I just got that warm and fuzzy feeling that all will turn out well.

What’s changed? Nothing. That’s the amazing part. I just finally said out loud what I’ve always believed — that I am just as deserving of happiness as anyone else.

That, and I seem to have developed a crush on someone. Shit. But it’s so much fun in the early stages (you know, before reality bites you in the ass). So let me keep dreaming a little — I’m much more pleasant when I’m happy!!!

More mind-numbing joy.

1. List your five favorite beverages.

Alcohol — does that count as five, considering that I can’t stop at just one? (Kind of like Lays, and by “lays,” I do NOT mean the potato chips!)

Alcoholic-wise, a nice glass of Riesling or Chardonnay is sure to make me weep with joy. Same thing with an amaretto sour, a long island iced tea (depends on who’s making it, though) and a Captain and Diet Coke. There’s this great alcoholic drink called Hawaiian Punch, but I can never find anyone who knows how to make it. Not like I can make one myself, though. 🙂

2. List your five favorite websites.

Blogs or not? ‘Cause all you have to do is cruise over to the right side of my page and read the pages under “Cast” and “Inspiring Reading.” Too many faves to list, and I don’t want to exclude anyone.

Commercial sites — I can’t help but read the WaPo, the NY Times, Yahoo! News, Poynter Online (forum for journalists — I’m too lazy to look up the hyperlink) and Milk and Cookies dot com for funny shit.

3. List your five favorite snack foods.

Anything that doesn’t eat me first.

Seriously, I can live on snacks alone (and that would explain the size of my ass these days *sigh*). I cannot win a battle against ice cream, chocolate-covered popcorn, Wasabi peas, Reese’s peanut butter cups or chocolate-raspberry truffles. *drool*

4. List your five favorite board and/or card games.

I fucking hate board games and card games. I usually end up playing with uber-competitive people, and it just sucks when people are out to win and not to have fun with friends. I’ll play drinking games, as long as I can drink no matter what happens (somebody bounces a quarter and Dawn drinks; somebody loses an eyelash and Dawn drinks, etc.).

Although …. I must take exception for Erica’s Sunday Night Sex Show Drinking Game, whereby you drink pretty much any time Sue Johansen (an elderly granny type) gives you the heaves when she’s talking about blow jobs and great sexual positions. Although, again, see previous rule that Dawn drinks no matter what happens. … 😉

5. List your five favorite computer and/or game system games.

I don’t do games. Used to play Tetris, but that was back when it was created. And seeing people playing Solitaire on the computer is a raging joke at work, so I stay far away from it and similar games. I’d rather read blogs or get the hell offline and read a real book or something!

I’ve been uninspired to post today. On a whim, I had asked my designer to come into the office yesterday instead of today, and I must thank my humble spirit guides for directing me to do so, because our advertisements were a disaster. They’re usually a mess in general, but this month, half the documents were corrupted and the other half were created on a system more advanced than mine, so I couldn’t even get them open. In the wee hours of this morning, he got the fuckers to work and to read right, and I got the document back today to do last-minute edits and to toss in some late-arriving graphics.

This, of course, would have been a breeze, but two ads weren’t even FedExed till today, so they had to be re-routed to the print shop. And then, of course, we have this ridiculous company that services our Macs, but all they do is fuck up my settings and cause setbacks. Whenever I give them a laundry list of my problems, they claim to fix them, but what they really do is go into my extensions folder and turn everything off. You know, because you really don’t need a font manager when you’re producing a 72-page Quark document. Morons.

So my designer literally sat with me on the phone for an hour and a half, because the moron from the Mac company decided to erase my Acrobat Distiller settings, so I couldn’t make a PDF of the document (we have to FTP each individual page as a PDF to the printer). Actually, what was fucked up was that I did make an initial PDF, but half of the color pages showed up as black-and-white. You know, because that’s so helpful when you’re working on a deadline.

I have helped to get the Mac service company fired, as of immediately and no later. In fact, I also put a bug in the right people’s ears to just hire my designer as our tech support person, because he knows his stuff and he doesn’t charge $500 for emergency phone calls in which Dawn becomes the helpless female who can’t use her technology. (Vibrators I can handle; Mac G4s with errors implanted by idiotic supposed profesionals are a little beyond my limits!)

Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick, why the hell is everything so difficult? My writer, designer and I have our processes down to a science, but invariably, the advertisements and the damage done by the “repairmen” cause two solid days of downtime. *scream* No wonder I get migraines!

There’s this old dude who has been calling me at work practically every day since last December. I have actually reached a point where I never even pick up the fucking phone anymore, because he’s calling three or four times a day to chat. And when I accidentally picked up yesterday (awaiting a call from my ad rep), he was on the line and got mad at me for not calling him back. I snapped that I was in the middle of a crisis (and I was), so I was indisposed. So he tried to ask me to call him that evening. He’s 83 and a darling chap, but for Christ’s sake, I am not the entertainment of the day. I wonder if this is what my grandfather does to people he calls at companies when he needs customer service. Mom reports that he’s on the phone forever sometimes; I always feel bad for the guy who calls me and try to hang in there and be interested and attentive. But this just wasn’t one of those times. Hallelujah that I’m working off-site for the next two workdays — my voice mail log is about 86 percent full of calls from him ALONE!!!

Ahem.

Hung out at Shawn’s hacienda this evening while he cleaned and I threw together a cheese/meat plate for his holiday soiree tomorrow evening. ‘Twas the only time today that I managed to relax (that, and of course after my PDFs were made). Hurrah for the men in my life (except the old dude — somebody needs to put me out of my misery and remove my number from his speed dial!). But ain’t that the bitch of it all — young, hot, fuckable men are NEVER trying to hunt me down, but man, if they’re 83, they’re ALL over my voice mail!

I’m delirious. Speaking of putting me out of my misery, it’s time for NyQuil!!!