Caterwauling

No, that’s not how long it’s been since I left my desk at work (although it’s been more than 13 HOURS). It’s the 10-year observance of the passing of Princess Diana.

It’s been all over the cable news channels today, and I hate to admit it, but it was a welcome break from Ben Bernanke and Prez-e-dent Shrub. (Incidentally, did you catch “Celebrity Rap Superstar” last night? They had better grammar than Shrubbish in his talk today.)

Anyway, I remember where I was when I heard the news. A lot has changed since then. Different city, different circle of friends. I know how to get in touch with all of them, although wanting to? Meh. Those ships sailed and even sank, for the most part.

I was 23, working a job I HATED, and I went drinking every weekend and pretty much most weekdays, too. Now I’m 33, working a job I love, and working nights and weekends instead of partying. Awesome. I’m probably earning four times as much, but I’m paying about five times as much for rent. Gained two cats and too much weight. Lost a ton of friends and probably that much weight … and gained it back again. Was smoking a pack a day then; now smoking a pack a month.

I remember wanting so very much to be taken seriously in my career; now I’m wondering where the hell all this responsibility came from. 😉 I was an angry, disgruntled supervisee who detested every idiot above me who couldn’t spot talent if it was shoved in their mouth like a ball gag. Now I’m going with the flow and being hands-off and open to every new idea I hear, having learned what it was like to not be provided that opportunity for most of my career.

I’m still as relationship-stunted as ever. I still run at the first sign of not even conflict, but lack of absolute adoration on my part. It takes a LOT for me to let my guard down even the slightest bit, and I want to be wooed and courted and romanced and dazzled. If I’m not, I’m gone. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, end of story. If you’re going to show me something, you need to show me everything.

So many things have changed since that night in which the four of us then-friends sat in an empty apartment, listening to the news of the princess’ death on the radio because that was our only connection to the outside world. My grandparents are gone. Only two friends from that time in my life are still around. I’ve attended as many weddings as I have funerals and bought more baby gifts than both combined.

I’ve lived in almost as many apartments as years that have passed. I rose in one field, started over at the bottom of another and am rising to the top of that one, only to be experimenting with a new field that combines the best of both. I’ve gone from spreading myself thin with several jobs at once to spending the same amount of time at one, but that’s what I wanted.

I’ve got the same cat and added another. I’ve got more friends that I’ve never met than I have in real life. I’ve met a lot of famous and pseudo-famous people and traveled to a bunch of different cities. My dreams have gotten smaller due to disillusionment and yet grow bigger as I decide that hey, they’re still good dreams after all.

It’s been quite the decade, and it’s only just that — both a milestone and a stepping stone.

Here’s to another eventful 10 years in which I will look back and be amazed and just how fast it went by and how far I managed to go. Cheers to looking back, fondly.

So I had a doctor’s appointment today. Which of course brings being wrapped in a napkin — i.e., the paper-gown top that doesn’t close in the front and the life-sized napkin to hold over your cooch as they talk to you. And did I need to be undressed for anything more than the EKG? No. Misery.

Anyway, of course they got on me about the occasional smoking. (Hey, I think a pack a month is pretty damned good!) I said, look, Marlboro is what’s keeping the homicide rate in Montgomery County so low. Why judge?

They also got on me about not exercising other than sprinting to the ladies’ room occasionally. I said hey, I have those hand-sized barbells in my office, but I have to keep them hidden lest I whale one at a deserving noggin. Again, see death rate in MoCo: low because I’m not contributing to it!

It wasn’t all fun and games. I had a reason for going in, other than to get a physical and tetanus shot. Unfortunately, we couldn’t just fix what I wanted to get fixed. In fact, I got the name of a specialist and a, “Surgery might be your only option.” Because that’s just what I need to hear before I’ve had any coffee for the day.

Anyway, I’m staring at the phone number right now and trying to grow enough of a set to make the call. As the doc said, I’m too young to be dealing with this crap — might as well get it fixed now. And I said it was hard enough taking the time off work to attend this appointment, and you think I need SURGERY? Don’t you know Ye Olde Employment Establishment is going to put my laptop in my hands on the operating table?

I so don’t have time for this shit. Of course, that’s why it’s progressed this far. *sigh*

Isn’t it enough to just be good at your job — do I have to surmount impossible obstacles with relationships and health, too? Can’t I just skate by, once in awhile?!?!?

I was supposed to start fasting about a half-hour ago for a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, but I just got home and threw a Lean Cuisine in the microwave. Usually I drive through Wendy’s the night before tests and we all WONDER why my blood pressure comes out high.

Perhaps it comes out high because, before every battery of tests I submit myself to, the day has to be a fustercluck.

It’s clearly OK for people to be morons and convolute the processes beyond recognition and offer no help and ask no questions before looking at you and saying, “Well, it’s your fault you didn’t tell me ‘Simon Says.'” It’s also OK for others to take a dump on our dreams. But to fix these adventures? You’re never going to be able to. So you do your best. And sometimes, it costs a whole buttload of cash to fix someone else’s even-bigger mess.

Of course, there I was proud of myself for all I achieved today, although the “mistake” garnered a, “You did what?” Meanwhile, sometimes it feels like others can do deliberately stupid things and yet they’re still allowed to reproduce, while every gray hair on my head is earned by trying to do what’s in the best interest of the greater good.

This lunar eclipse in Virgo is really testing my ability not only to hold my tongue, but to also refrain from holding a gun to my temple. But my luck, I’d miss and end up as dumb as it feels everyone is trying to make me.

I’m trying to lie low during this astrological clusterfuck known as this week’s lunar eclipse in Pisces and the solar eclipse in Virgo on Sept. 11. To say it’s been a challenging day for communication is an understatement, so I’ll focus on the positive: I left work during rush hour. For the first time. Ever.

Yesterday’s workload burned me out. It wasn’t even the work so much as the fact that it takes 37 people to screw in a goddamned light bulb. And the key component of the whole operation is about as dim as a burned-out filament.

Anyway, since yesterday’s shift ended just shy of 11 p.m., I thought 5 p.m. was a superb time to leave today — I know, MADNESS! And holy shit, the rush-hour TRAFFIC that’s clogging my fair city at that hour is unbelievable.

And you know what? I LOVED every second of it. Not the asshole Maryland drivers, of course, but the being in the car … during daylight hours … with the sunroof open … and with the music blasting. (Bon Jovi, natch.) I had time to go out and DO something. It was empowering. A half-hour barely moving on the highway sure beats, well, sitting in a chair for a half-hour and NOT MOVING.

This eclipse is favoring home matters right now — to get my affairs in order and pass up any extra projects that I would normally volunteer for that keep me away from it. I think it’s a glorious idea, but I get behind when I don’t take a day off — what happens when I do is nothing short of pandemonium!

Speaking of, I have work I meant to do tonight, but I’m also staring in the face of an early conference call tomorrow and another day chock-full of wrestling with my demons. But that glimpse of sunshine? That ever-elusive orb of wonder that I never get to see on a day that ends in “y”? Was inspiration enough to get up and do it all over again for another day … all in the hopes of getting another glimmer of a world outside the one in which I’m immersed.

“Oh patron saint of lonely souls
Tell this (girl) which way to go
Guide the car, you got the keys
Farewell to mediocrity
Kicking off the cruise-control
And turning up the radio
Got just enough religion
And a half tank of gas come on, let’s go.”

— Bon Jovi, “Lost Highway”

Since it’s going to be a stupendously long day, I don’t feel bad about taking a blog break. So, here goes nothing (literally!).

I’m a firm believer in destiny and things working out as they should. But I read something in Cosmo this weekend (it’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to a bible — shut up) that it’s all fine and swell and stuff to expect things will turn out the way you want them to, but you can’t get lazy and just expect all’s well that ends well without actually DOING the work necessary to achieve those predetermined goals.

That sort of served as a kick in the ass for me, because while I’ve never been afraid of hard work, well, I do enough of it all week, thankyouverymuch. When it comes to the trainwreck that is my personal life, I sort of tend to rest on my laurels because, well, why shouldn’t SOMETHING come easily for a change?

But then again, while I know I’m destined to weigh less than I do now, I don’t see me stopping the ice cream diet anytime soon. I may skip dinner in favor of a lovely waffle cone at my friendly neighborhood ice cream joint (the birthday-cake-flavored ice cream is my weakness– dear god, it’s frozen frosting. *slurp*)

Where was I?

Oh, right. Destiny and all that jazz. Anyway, I think I’ve let a lot of opportunities pass me by as I’ve “waited” for something that might or might not never come to pass. Maybe it will still come. Or maybe I didn’t evolve enough for it. Maybe I’ve been afraid of evolving TOO MUCH and growing away from it.

But this pseudo-inertia in the interim certainly hasn’t been helping matters, either.

I guess I should just go about running in place before the direction becomes clear. At least I’ll be in motion for when I need to jump on whatever it is that I’ve been missing and/or that I SHOULDN’T be missing either in the meantime or even going forward indefinitely. ‘Cause it’s pretty hard to get up off my ass when it gives me time to reconsider.

Bottom line — there’s nothing wrong with going wherever the wind blows you. But unless you don’t mind it slamming you into the occasional tree, perhaps thinking ahead and donning some protective headgear (and maybe a compass) wouldn’t be such a bad idea so that we don’t get a concussion or detoured too badly from not just being where we’re supposed to be, but also being where we WANT to be.

I’ve been trying to come to terms with the fact that at my age, I’m going to be meeting men with kids.

I just didn’t think I’d be meeting the kids tonight.

They’re adorable. I kept my freaking-out contained, of course, as they all killed themselves to impress me and get my attention away from the other.

I just worry about meeting the kids so soon, and it’s my own fault for not being in touch to find out that, whoops, custody was switched at the last minute. I worry that I’ll like the kids better than the boy. I worry that the kids — who actually seemed to like me — will be a bigger reason to stay, even if I should ever decide maybe not to.

I was talking to my mom earlier this week, who posited, “Hmm. And nobody hates kids more than you do.” And I didn’t think I was THAT bad about kids (but I am. Oh, yes I am). But when she started swooning, “You could be a MOM!” — oh GAG, I wanted to just die right there. They have one of those, thanks.

But …

I didn’t hate being around them.

Weird.

I am usually the first one to run SCREAMING if I even think a man has a child. This one? Has three freaking amazing, intelligent and adorable ones.

Although, yay for this delightful surprise, he was smart enough to have a beer in my hand within minutes. 🙂

He also thought I did well with the surprise (Goddess needs to pick up her voice mail once in awhile. *sigh*) and even did well around THEM as I was in my (wasted) date outfit, pulling a big dog off a little girl and otherwise being entertained by three pint-sized people who were trying to figure out just who Daddy’s new friend is.

Now, it’s too soon to say about any of this, where it’s going. And it’s way too soon to even think about seeing those kids again. But you know? I’ve had so many worse dates in my life. Really, I have.

On any other day, I would have been scared off and headed for the hills. But the part of me that’s most confused is the one that felt at home with all of it. Either I’m growing, or I’m OK where I am right now.

I think of my friends who are also dating, who are hopefully less disappointed than they seem. I thought of the one who hates that the dates are over and it’s bedtime at 9:30 p.m., and I’m assuming he’s seeing someone without wee ones at home. And there I was, leaving at about that time because I figured the kids would never go to bed, as long as I was there for them to entertain.

I still went out after that — I was too cute to go straight home. 😉 And while we’re all kidding ourselves going with the flow, I just hope that we don’t adapt so much to these others that we lose the general picture of what we set out to find.

Not to say we can’t find it where we are, but perhaps my biggest fear of all is that what makes me, well, me (foul mouth, impulsiveness, whatever else) won’t go by the wayside as I (and I’m sure others like me) try to find ways to fit ourselves into other people’s worlds.

Or maybe we’ll change their worlds somehow, too.

Or maybe the rest of us who are awake after everyone else drifts off to dream should all meet up for a drink. 🙂

I don’t mean to bite the hand that feeds — I’m grateful to the universe for bringing me someone who positively lights up when he sees me, who’s truly crushed to see me go and who seems like he’d do cartwheels when I agree to see him again. Thank you, universe — I owe you for that one.

I’m not complaining — just having fun where I’m standing and simply trying not to think too hard about anything. I’m looking forward to whatever it is I’m supposed to learn. I just hope I’ll be able to be the best person I can be throughout all of it.

Jordin Sparks’ new single (of “American Idol” fame, for those who forget quickly) is called “Tattoo” and debuted on a New York radio show recently.

You have to sit through the whole interview (unless you do the bizarre fast-forward thing, which takes awhile, too), and the song starts right at 11 minutes into it, but it’s worth the wait:

“Tattoo”

All the kids were twittering about this video yesterday but I have to come home if I want to see questionable content. (However, I see PLENTY of other types of questionable content all day anyway. Fair enough. I am pwn3d!)

Internet Commenter Business Meeting video.

I’m sure you, like me, made a pact with people somewhere along the line that whenever you get to a certain age or period in your life and you’re both still single, you’ll marry them. Of course, thank the lord that most of us don’t still TALK to those people (and God help us if they looked us up on Teh Interwebs and made us honor our promise!), but it’s interesting to look back and see how far you’ve come. I mean, look what we otherwise would have SETTLED for!

My mom — whom I haven’t talked to in a few days — called today because her witchy sixth sense told her I was up to something I wasn’t sharing. (Seriously, you don’t get away with SHIT when your mom’s a psychic!) And I was telling her about the news in my life and how it’s exciting to look forward but how there’s always that little part of you — no matter how much you try to bludgeon it — that always wonders “what if” about someone else.

A friend of mine has always joked with me that it would probably take me being in a white dress and standing at an altar for someone I’d once had my heart set on to show up and raise an objection because he wasn’t the one I was marrying. Actually, I’m sure it’s less of a joke than a hope on both our parts.

But you move on. It’s literally that simple. The hard part is not looking back.

I was trying to explain to someone recently that while I don’t really think I’ve been in any serious relationships, as it were, I can safely say I’ve had more than my fair share of truly torrid emotional affairs. I hold most date-type people at arm’s length, literally and figuratively, because I don’t think they could take the earth-shattering passion that resides in my heart and is fighting so hard to be unleashed.

I give that passion to my work, my writings, and maybe even the things I shouldn’t be doing. 😉 But when it comes to humans? It’s interesting. I mean, if someone’s dead to me, they’re dead — no more, no less, no looking back. But when they’re alive in my imagination and under my skin? Oh my God. The sex organ you want to stimulate in me first is my brain. Trust me, the rest will respond in kind once that’s turned on!

I think back on the mindblowing emotional affairs in my world, and they’re my favorite to remember. I can still feel so many of the moments when I fell for those people — of my eyes widening, my sighs deepening, the goose bumps prickling. But that’s the thing — the most-intense relationships I was involved in weren’t always paired with true skin-on-skin stimulation.

I don’t think I set out to separate sex and love. Believe me, I anticipate that they SHOULD co-exist; I just haven’t seen it yet. I’ve had to get each from different people. A friend always calls it, “Building the Perfect Man” — find a nice cadre of people to fill your various needs, as apparently it takes five different guys to fill them all. 🙂

Although, I admit, I’m getting tired in my “old age.” I don’t know if one really would fill all the needs, but I’d love to whittle it down a bit because I can’t keep everyone straight sometimes. 😉 I think that’s why most guys either don’t like to talk or just like to talk about themselves — it’s far easier than to try to remember which girl likes what flowers and who said what to him that he should have remembered.

Anyway, I got distracted and forget what my original thought was in writing this tome. Maybe it’s just my ongoing quest for the total package who gives me the mental calisthenics that I love so much as well as the physical ones that, well, I also love so much. 😉 I’ve always settled for one or the other (and have had untold experience with having NEITHER). One can only hope I’m on my way to having both from the same source.

Maybe my point was that my mom mentioned to me about one of those emotional cliffhangers that I always hoped would come to a resolution might just be left that way. “I always thought you’d end up with ___,” she said. “But maybe you’re outgrowing him.”

It was a ponderous moment. Because I always thought I was the one who had to grow IN to him. (No puns, please. I’ve already thought of them all!) It was both freeing and terrifying, because the part of me that wanted it so badly has also grown very tired, while the rest of me that was counting on that as my destiny suddenly realized, oh shit, it’s time for Plan B (more like Plan P, Q or R, actually).

But really, how is moving on a bad thing, either way?

I wonder what our heroine will do when she isn’t always on the lookout for something that’s missing anymore. Or will she always be looking for something more?

You know, I sit and watch CNBC all day, but lately I’ve had the channel on mute because it’s too ugly out there to actually want to watch what’s happening. So, apparently Jim Cramer, host of “Mad Money,” completely freaked out recently. And I? Had the TV muted so I could listen to music.

(If you knew how thin the walls are in my office, you’d understand — I have to have earbuds in so I can get a little peace and quiet.)

Anyway, my colleague mentioned Cramer’s meltdown over the credit crunch, and hoo boy, that’s no doubt going to show up on “The Soup.” And while I’d never buy any of the stocks he recommends (if I even could) because too many people are watching his show and driving up the premiums, I admit that his 14-karat flipout made me really like him. What can I say — I’m a sucker for a passionate guy!

Although … the real reason this video is a hot topic of conversation? That goddamned giraffe outfit on the chick. Seriously. That’s more painful to watch than the heart attack Cramer is about to have over his friends losing their jobs at the big financial firms!