Caterwauling

… You just wonder what’s behind Door No. 3.

The “Grey’s Anatomy” season finale was fan-fucking-tastic, but I wasn’t “sobbing” crying. Just happily sniffling here and there.

And then, THEN, this song led us into the moment no one saw coming, and it was all over for me.

*shakes fist at Shonda Rhimes*

Damn it, I was FINE until I heard Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars.”

Here, you cry too. I’ll pass you the tissues, that is, if there are any left. …

I take it back. Not the impeaching Bush part, but at least he said all of his nothing by 8:20 p.m., thank the lord above. I figured with the stuttering, his little address would have run straight into midnight!

I had such a hard time watching “Grey’s” last night, and it’s on again right now to lead up to the big season finale. I read in Entertainment Weekly that “Grey’s” is supposed to start airing on Monday nights next season, so tonight’s off-night finale is just getting us in the groove of giving up all the other good Monday-night TV because this is so much better.

Anyway, it was hard to watch because of Izzie’s desperate actions to get that heart from the other hospital for Denny — to the point of cutting his LVAD and taking Denny closer to death than the guy on the transplant list ahead of Denny. Ugh. We’ve all fucked up at work — and we’ve all had small things go wrong that were blown into a much-more-huge dilemma and drama than they deserved to be — but she takes the fucking cake this week.

What I didn’t understand was that when Burke came back to the hospital to check on Denny, why wasn’t he brought back by helicopter, as that’s how he left? Why was he on the ground at the main entrance where the shooter (was it Petey?) was waiting for his boss to exit so he could kill him. The show closed with Burke lying on the ground motionless after being shot as well. *shudder* Why? Why was Burke out in the open? That’s making me crazy right now.

Anyway, I was watching the show through my fingers. I was so horrified yet I couldn’t turn that channel. I really thought Izzie would come to her senses. (She didn’t.) I thought Denny could talk her out of it. (No luck.) I assumed George could make cooler heads prevail. (Not so much.) I was screaming lots of things that involved the word “fuck” for almost as long as I cursed out the TV on Wednesday night when Chris Daughtry was voted off “Idol”!

But Denny. If — IF — he can be saved, what if Burke dies? What if the first heart does go to Denny but Burke’s heart would go to some stranger? The only consolation I could have to losing Burke would be if his heart could be donated to poor, sweet, pitiful Denny.

OT, I loved Addison’s confrontation with McDreamy, accusing him and Meredith of being the only two people who can’t see that the two of them are still in love. Talk about poor workplace decorum — I thought our beloved Chief was going to suspend her. See, we all get angry at people who bring their personal problems into work. For so many of us, work IS the overriding thing in our lives — it defines our identities, and when you have a rough day, there is nothing to fill you up with any kind of hope that things will be OK because all you can do is go back again the next day and the day after that, just hoping it will get better or at least not rock you until you get back your balance. But then there’s poor Addison, who can’t escape her husband and the woman he loved and still, quite possibly, does.

It seemed that she had one of those moments that I always try to internalize. One of those moments where you just say absolutely every thought you have because the dam of decorum has to burst or else a vein in your head is going to give way instead. Because every one of us who was brought up to be a good little girl — to, the higher and hotter your emotions (good or bad) run, become quieter and calmer because it’s the only way you can maintain any sort of control over the situation. Because you know you can’t win, so why even try? Yet after so many power struggles, notwithstanding the struggles within yourself, you can’t help it — you know you have to explode or else you’ll implode, and who only knows which damage will be more extensive.

“I want you to care. … What do I have to do?” Addison asked McDreamy. A question I myself have oft wanted to pose. A question most of us only ask silently and to which we never really learn the answer. Even though we search high and low for it. And I know where Addison is — she’s afraid that if she walks away, he won’t so much as follow. What she wants is him to run in front of her, stop her, know in that instant that he can’t keep wounding her even though that’s not necessarily his intent. She wants him to know that she aches for him and because of him more than she can ever express. And she wants him to be the source of her happiness or, at least, for him to no longer be the source of the twinge of heartache that he often seems to bring.

Nope, I don’t see myself in these characters at ALL. … 😉

And not even just for the usual reasons, but for having the audacity to have ABC not show “Grey’s Anatomy” so that his dippity dumb ass can address the nation with his usual incoherence. Talk about giving up McDreamy for McDipshit. Haven’t I already had a frustrating enough day?

RPM rides again:

1. Are there any foods you do not allow yourself to eat, even though you love them?
Lord, I should. Because moderation is not my friend — I have to deprive myself because I do not have the slightest inclination of how to approach self-control. I figure, life’s hard enough without feeling depressed and hungry and deprived of basic pleasures while you’re plodding through it.

2. Have you attended any of your high school or college reunions?
I wouldn’t set foot into a high school reunion. I got a very enthusiastic e-mail a few years back from an old classmate about our 10-year, and I was pleased as punch to be in the middle of moving to D.C. (from Pittsburgh) on that very date.

College is a different story, although I would rather just get together with some of the old clique rather than do a mass reunion. I sometimes go to events my college sponsors in D.C., where they bring current students to meet alumni. Well, I go to see my old professors rather than see overly tanned 21-year-olds in belly shirts, giggling and acting as stupid as I hope I didn’t back then.

Actually, going back to high school cliques. There were four of us who were friends who had agreed to meet 10 years from a particular date, at a particular hangout. It was a “just in case we fall out of touch” thing. So help me, I was already in D.C. and not making a special trip back to see them when, even as we made the pact to come back, I knew deep in my heart that I would never in a million years keep that date. And I have never really wondered whether any of them had made the effort, either. I hope their lives turned out the way they wanted them to, but I wasn’t inclined to find out.

3. If you could trade lives with another blogger for a week, who would you pick?
Amalah, no question. As if she’d give up that delicious, delicious baby for a whole week, though!

4. What’s your favorite thing to do on a chilly, drizzly day?
Shop or go to a movie. Rain depresses me to death these days — I used to love it but then after I was unemployed for awhile, it only served to make the world look even more dismal. Unlike the weekdays where I long to be near a window, a rainy weekend is just cause for suspending one’s disbelief at the local AMC or for taking home pretty, shiny things to distract from the gloom and doom at hand.

5. What kind of cell phone do you have?
Motorola ROKR. I’d heard mixed reviews on it but, all in all, it works for me. My only bitch to pitch is that I can’t use any of the 100 songs I store on the thing as ringtones — I not only have to buy the music to listen to, but I also have to buy it AGAIN as a ringtone.

6. Describe any piercings or tattoos you have.
Just one in each lobe and a cartilage piercing at the top of my left ear. The last one was sort of a quarter-century crisis thing.

7. What is your ideal 10-day vacation?
Luxury hotel. Spa service. Good food. Fresh air, sunshine, water. Great shopping — little unique boutiques make me so very happy. Not a whisper of e-mail, voice mail or any reminder of what I was trying to escape in the first place.

8. How many umbrellas do you own?
I’ve lost all but one.

9. What is one thing you’ve learned over the past 24 hours? That ABC is CRUEL for having a two-hour “Grey’s Anatomy” season finale tonight when I usually watch “24” and “Medium.” I’m already not happy that I never get to watch “What About Bryan”!

During the past 72 hours? I learned that even I can still be surprised. And that baby blue is really my color. 😉 I also learned that forgetting your cell phone in the office is fine if you at least remember to take home your building-access card. Othewise, you’d be screwed. Just sayin’. LOL

10. Ask me something.
What personal possession would we have to pry from your dead, cold hands that you couldn’t possibly live without?

OK, first of all I apologize, as I’ve just survived a week of Mondays and with the exception of one workday that ended at 5 p.m., the rest more than made up for it in the 7-8 p.m. land. That and there’s a toothache in progress, a migraine and oh yeah! allergies. Lots and lots of watery, runny eyes and sleep-inducing Benadryl that is counteracted by the caffeine in my headache pills. So I? Am Fucked Up.

Anyway, I’m supposed to be getting ready to go out tonight but I think I am going to owe a big ole retroactive apology because I want to go back to bed. And if dying is involved (at least for a few hours), I am all about it.

Speaking of the land of the living dead, I ventured out to Costco this morning.

OK, I have the “Business Member” card, which is supposed to mean that I can enter the warehouse one hour earlier than the unwashed masses, but alas, that’s now an urban myth. At least, on weekends it is. I got to the warehouse at 9:15 and the bitch didn’t open till 9:30. So I did what everyone else did — grabbed a cart and got in line.

As the line was wrapping around the building (!), I noticed people clogging up the driveway and those who weren’t standing in the road were standing six across in each lane just across the street. I could swear mouths were foaming in anticipation of the glorious opening of the doors. I swear, if I’d’a heard the word “Braaaiiiinsss!” just once, my happy ass woulda been outta there. And yes, I was more than just half-expecting it.

The really screwed up part was the fact that people were line-jumping. Yes, even though I was probably 20th in line, people who got there after me were jumping in front of me and, hell, even just parking their double-wide carts at the front of the line. I was too tired to be annoyed until the asshole behind me drove his cart up my butt and skinned my heels. Seriously, people, there’s enough bulk crap for all of us, thanks. You can even split the 100-pack of Clorox wipes with me!

I was telling my mom that you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to tell I’m single. I need a number of the products sold in the store, sure, but not 80 gallons of Tide or 300 dishwasher tablets. (The latter would require me actually unpacking a box and finding my fucking silverware!) But to look in my cart, you’ll see a case of AA batteries, a lifetime supply of Tampax, a bottle of Motrin, a bottle of Midol, a case of Tylenol Sinus, a trough o’chocolate and a four-pack o’Lean Cuisine (to counteract the chocolate, natch). Yup, clearly no man in sight!

I tried to lift the 40-pound thing of kitty litter, but I felt my wrists snap and I park far from my apartment, anyway, so I knew that would be an unsuccessful odyssey. Although, admittedly, my cats certainly shit in bulk so it would have paid to buy it. Forget renting a truck when you go shopping — I need to rent a big, strong man!

*updated*

Whatever the word, my head is a drug-free psychotropic hayride at the moment.

Today’s horoscope:

Your combination of intuition and intelligence is lethal now — to the competition. Engage both your brain and your gut, and a decision you’ve been going back and forth about is crystal clear — and very advantageous.

My take:

Not right now, it ain’t clear. But hot damn, having options does wonders for a girl’s self-esteem!

Updated, via Astrocenter.com:

It might seem like your brain and heart are working secretly against you today, dawn. You might be sensing that they have teamed up to keep your head in a swirling maelstrom of confusion that you can’t seem to pull yourself out of. Look beyond the mundane confusion that this day seems to be dishing out. Connect with your sensitive and receptive side, sit back, and let someone else do the thinking.

My take, redux:

Otherwise known as: Cryptic Bullshit Time!!!! 😀

OK, I like this one better. It unfortunately, though, reminds me of the question I keep wanting to ask and the answer I keep dodging when it is asked of me. But maybe it doesn’t matter — not in the short term, anyway. Maybe I need to quit planning ahead and just take things as they come and resolve to be OK if certain things come but others do not. Maybe now isn’t the time to be thinking so far ahead. But during that “ahead” time, I don’t want to be mentally poking myself in the ass with a pointy-toed shoe while looking back, either.

At this point, I have nothing left to do other than to be satisfied that the worst has not happened (and I’m choking on trying not to say the word “yet”). And whatever does happen will likely be all for the best. But what hangs in the balance is some errant X factor that I have no way of controlling or even testing, for that matter. Maybe it resolves itself either way, depending on the outcome, although one wonders whether that, indeed, is my “final answer” or whether someday, somehow, a road exists for revisiting.

Somehow, I’m more confused than when I started writing this entry!

Caution: “Idol” spoiler ahead.

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I had a horrible flashback today.

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The other day, I was hiding out in a colleague’s office when someone came in, not expecting me to be there, and the poor guy jumped 10 feet. I laughed and said I believe that’s what my last blind date did, so it’s OK. He told me not to take it personally.

But THEN, I’m working late today (I do my best work at night, unfortunately. I suddenly got a spurt of inspiration for some report I’m working on and I’d keep it up but now I’m tired. Waah!). Anyway, our beloved guards come and check on us periodically to ensure we haven’t been kidnapped or that we haven’t slammed our heads into the copiers in a vain attempt to commit suicide by toner ingestion. But for some reason, I guess my guard didn’t notice my lights on because he wandered into my office and jumped 10 feet when he realized that yes, there’s still someone in here.

Seriously, I know I’m not supermodel material, but boys, please — you’re the ones scaring ME! I think I might need to work from home a lil more to keep everyone’s blood pressure relatively stable!!!