Caterwauling

Spent the morning in traffic court for a $140 ticket thanks to a suspended registration. Yippee.

I was dressed up and looking calm — it was interesting to see how many people wore their laundry-day best and looked annoyed to be there. C’mon — we were ALL annoyed to be there. No one was special in that regard.

There was an article in Slate recently in which they compared the uber-cool Bugs Bunny to the temperamental Daffy Duck in a political context. And while I think I’d rather have a president who is emotive because you can actually see that they care about the country, I’ll save that argument for April 22 (the Pennsylvania primary) if need be.

Oh, where was I? Yeah. I was trying to go the classy, cool and grateful route.

And it worked.

I was doing fine until my cop showed up. Yeesh. I was hoping she wouldn’t, not that she wasn’t a lovely person and all but because I didn’t want to pay my fine. (It was for not getting emissions done, which I did three days after I got the ticket for a splendid $400 fine.)

So, the judge called my cop’s name and brought 17 of us to the front of the room. And NO ONE before me got their fees waived. This judge wasn’t taking any crap from anybody.

Then it was my turn. I bid the judge good morning and stated my name (as these sessions get recorded). The judge asked the cop what she had to say about me. And she knocked off my bobby socks when she told the judge that she had nothing to say about me and that my charge should be dismissed.

!

!!

!!!

Holy shit!

I had all my paperwork ready to go, but nobody wanted to see it. I’m thinking she must have accessed my record and saw that I took care of everything in a hurry, because I was out that door in a hurry. Whee!

I remember her name because it’s a “Melrose Place” character name, too. Is it inappropriate to send a cop a thank-you note for not fricasseeing your ass when you probably really deserved it?

I had to stick around for a moment to get some paperwork from the clerk, and while I waited, I heard the next case. The guy was pulled over for the EXACT reason I was, and he didn’t fare so well.

The cop seemed surprised that he’d gotten his emissions done, and she asked him when he did it. She looked at his paper and said, “Yesterday? You waited until YESTERDAY?”

Needless to say, he had to pay his fine as I FROLICKED out the door.

To reward myself, I drove my ass straight over to Bed Bath & Beyond to get a duvet set that I’ve been coveting. I had seen it at the new Columbia Heights location last week and didn’t want to pay the full $150 for a lousy cover and two pillowcases. But today, I had a 20%-off coupon in my bag and spent the money earmarked to pay for my ticket on the start of my new bed ensemble. (I can’t justify parting with $50 for each sham and pillow right now.)

So, even though I consumed some meat today (seriously, the Fractured Prune is da bomb! And I took a Reese’s cup donut to go. Nom nom nom), it’s a Good Friday indeed!

It’s performance review day for me. I have been struggling to find time come up with my top 3 accomplishments for the past year, but according to my team, here they are:

1. I didn’t kill anyone.
2. I didn’t sexually harass anyone.
3. I didn’t show up drunk.

With the caveat at the end of each sentence being, of course, “… that anyone knows of.” 😉

What are my goals for the coming year? To meet last year’s goals, of course! To stop eating out of the vending machine and go out and get some real food once in a while. To rip down all my decorations and embrace the Spartan lifestyle. To meet deadlines more than just occasionally. To go out and smoke more. To not kill or sexually harass anyone and to definitely not show up drunk. (Hungover does not qualify as drunk, for the record.) To take naps whenever possible to keep up my momentum for longer stretches of time.

Here’s to another year of being gainfully employed!

“And I see you standing there
Wanting more from me
And all I can do is try.”

— Nelly Furtado, “Try“

Planetary forces are hard-at-work right now, basically creating a cosmic clusterfuck. No arguments here — in fact, the less I say lately, the happier I am. And I have never been in this crabby a mood without it being hormone-motivated.

Well, maybe crabby isn’t the word. Stretched, perhaps. Worried and disillusioned, mostly over the economy and wondering what it’s going to mean to me. Disgusted with national politics and afraid over what the outcome of the Democratic race is going to be. Outraged at a lack of outrage in general.

My horoscope said I should let go of over thinking today and just feel. Well, I feel like thinking. But damn, it makes my widdle brain hurt.

I’ve been so flippin’ busy for the past few days, I haven’t even thought about this space. And, judging from my feed reader, most peeps in my circle are experiencing their own version of March Madness, as I can’t find anyone posting even when I can free up a rare moment to see what anyone else is up to.

I can haz a Swiffer shoved up my butt so I can at least mop the floor while I’m running around like a madwoman? (Seeing as though time to clean is pretty much non-existent, too. *sigh*)

There was a lot of going out this weekend and trying amazing foods and beers and whatnot, as Paddy’s Day is a weekend-long celebration in these here parts. I could use a beer right now but, alas, the last thing I need to do is fall asleep right about now, although the results could be fairly entertaining.

At church yesterday, they were playing Hackey Sack with the brimstone in that you should always choose others’ needs before your own. Which, I pretty much always do. I just wonder who’s going to put mine first, seeing as though I’m not “allowed” to do it for myself. Blah blah “your standard of living shouldn’t compare with your standard of giving” cakes.

And applying that to my life was kind of interesting, actually, in that I keep making more and more money. But instead of my standard of living going up, the government keeps getting more of mah monies. So if that’s the case, why aren’t we enjoying a more-effective government? I’m paying for competence — why aren’t they putting MY/OUR needs above THEIR own?!?!

I’m into Hour 8.5 of my day and my brain? Has Shut. The. Fuck. Down.

It’s a familiar conundrum, usually solved by an extra two cups of coffee and committing myself to “just another hour” that turns into three, four or five.

I don’t know if it’s the quarter-moon or the fact that the government is enjoying my bonus (remind me again why I insist on voting Democrat?) when those fuckers CLEARLY did not just put a thousand hours into Project From Hell (PFM^TM) and thus DO NOT DESERVE the fruits of my slave labor.

Why yes, you COULD shove coal up my ass today and I’ll barf up a jewelry store’s worth of diamonds. Somebody musta put on the crankypants today, and a bitch must be bloated or somethin’ ’cause everything is rubbing me the wrong way.

123V mentioned that a whole lotta planets are in Pisces right now, so we’re all more-sensitive and more-susceptible to the moods of others, so we should choose our companions (or lack thereof) during this time accordingly. Which explains why, when I was told to play nice in the sandbox with someone who craps in it, it absolutely ruined my whole day. In case I haven’t made it painfully obvious, I am VERY selective about whom I allow/keep in my life. Say it with me: “You can’t soar with the eagles when you’re rolling with turkeys.”

Actually, speaking of brilliant thoughts, my BFF shot me a quote that knocked off my frog socks:

“A year from now, you will wish you had started today.” — Karen Lamb

*chills*

What could I have crossed off my to-do list when I started the task when I first thought of it? It boggles the mind. So what do I NOT want to be dealing with a year from now? (No names, please!) And what should I be preparing to have in my life at this time next year? (Other than another raise/bonus?)

I may just take my laptop to greener pastures just to see whether a change of scenery wouldn’t hurt. I’m not able to say “when” very often, as having my brain shut off doesn’t qualify as a valid reason for walking away and doing my own thing till a few neural cells regenerate. But maybe after I tie up some loose ends, I may have to do just that.

I’d ask for a do-over on this day, but if it meant I’d have to re-live it? I’d have to shoot myself before it got started (again). But if it meant I got an extra bonus check, then I’d be at the level I was promised before the gubmint got its greedy mitts on it. …

The government stole half of my bonus and most of my raise;
The rental office is getting the rest and this was supposed to be one of my happier days.

Well, at least I now HAVE money in my account, so there is that. 😉

Maybe it’s a sign to not go buying electronics and furniture … at least, not till I file my taxes!

Rumor has it that Kanye West and his father will open up a coffee shop here in D.C. Don’t know what they’re naming it or where exactly it will be located, but it seems an appropriate outlet for all that bitter(ness).

Watched Lewis Black’s new show “The Root of all Evil.” It was Oprah vs. the Catholic Church, and you could text your votes. I voted for (against?) Oprah, mostly for her Obama endorsement. 😉 (Just kidding — I’m actually still ticked at her for giving us Dr. Phil!)

I’ve been wanting to blog about today’s Geraldine Ferraro comment, but I can’t really claim to know what her intent was, so anything I can say is speculation. But Michael Steele made an interesting point today in support of her, that if she can’t express her opinion, well, it’s the backlash that’s suggesting racism is still alive and, unfortunately, well in this country.

She made a stupid comment. No arguments there. I was going “WTF?” when I heard it. I thought I heard on CNN that she said she herself wouldn’t have been picked to run with Mondale if she were male, but I could be making that up.

In any event, in my heart of hearts, I wonder whether we’re all turning this election into (hopefully) a better outcome of the last one — four long years ago, the whole “vote for anybody but Bush” theme was rampant. Few voters were in favor of John Kerry (although I was); more were anti-Bush than pro-Kerry.

And in this election, are we voting against the Bush legacy more than we are supporting any one Democratic candidate? Just in general discussions with folks, I get the feeling that some are voting based on one’s longer career of public service and others are voting the other way because of that same person’s career (i.e., is “anyone but Clinton” the post-modern “anyone but Bush”?).

Don’t take this as bashing the other guy — I’ve been supporting my candidate faithfully (donations and all) but not wasting my energy on coming up with reasons to dislike the competition. I’ve tried hard to NOT pay attention to the politics of the campaign and try to focus on what my candidate stands for. The things I feel passionate about, and the things I am personally struggling with, are why I voted the way I did — not what one did or didn’t say at a particular juncture on the campaign trail.

Many of my friends — smart, educated people whose judgment I trust — are in favor of Obama. But when I ask some of them what swayed them, the thing I’ve heard most frequently is that they are skeptical of having another Clinton era — I keep hearing words like crooks and liars and scandal and other words that don’t go much beyond four letters. 😉

Which, I get. I really do. I just have yet to hear someone have the first thing out of their mouth be, “This is why Obama would totally rock socks. …” Because, hey, if he gets the nomination, I will likely vote for him … although I must admit that the best argument I can come up with right now is, “Because he’s not McCain.” (However this all ends up, though, I’ll be studying the finalists closely before voting. Even if my candidate gets the nomination.)

Someone made a joke to me awhile back that has never left my mind because I didn’t have a comeback. I was saying that I was bummed that Hillary didn’t win some primary or another and the response was that she would have a good job as the janitor of Obama’s Cabinet.

And I thought to myself, wow, if I had said a similar comment about Obama, that would have been taken in such a way to suggest something incorrect about me.

And in that, Michael Steele may have a point — if we’re afraid of being offensive through simple discourse, then we really haven’t made much progress, have we?

Which is why I will stick to arguing about who should be the the next “American Idol” and leave the political correctness arguments to the rest of this capital city. Anyone else voting for a Carly Smithson/David Cook finale ticket? 🙂

Bizarre day. It’s going quickly, but it’s filled to the brim with oddity.

Got my first, bona-fide fan letter in this realm. Also got (not the first) a quite unhinged, combative and misguided one that someone is answering for me. It’s challenging to not tell someone they’re full of shit when, well, they’re full of shit. And they like to keep replying back to say they’d be better at this job than, oh, say the EXPERTS in the job.

Good luck with that. Think I haven’t ridden shotgun on a psychotropic hayride before? Puh-leeze.

My new plan is to get those virtual-reality helmets for people, but instead create “reality” helmets. Slap ’em on people who can’t make deadlines or those who shouldn’t be wandering this world unsupervised and give them a big ol’ reality check. (Or an electric jolt. Whichever.) If they miss deadline or act like a douchebag, the helmet locks in place and stays on for one week. Is there a patent on that yet? 😉

Speaking of folk who could use a lil religion, the sin list is growing, courtesy of the Vatican. (Link courtesy of Goddess Sabre.)

One thing I agree with, on paper anyway:

“Father Antonio Pelayo, a Spanish priest and Vatican expert noted that it is time for both sinners and confessors to get over their obsession with sex and think about other ways humans hurt each other in the world in which they live.”

Amen to that one. Sex is necessary! Sex is awesome! Sex should not be a sin! Shit, I would venture a bet that there have been orgasms that have prevented shooting sprees. (And I’m just talking about me.)

I think people are hardwired to please themselves and, if it’s at the expense of others, then oh well. So, yeah, maybe you can’t make mean-spiritedness a mortal sin, but if adultery only hurts three or four people, and an act of cruelty can wipe out a city, perhaps “hurting others” (physically or emotionally) should swap places with coveting thy neighbor or thy neighbor’s spouse? I wouldn’t argue with that.

Moving on.

And what I disagree with?

… “(the) widening social and economic differences between the rich and the poor that ’cause an unbearable social injustice'”

I mean, not to imply that I’m not churchmouse-poor and all, but wealth as a venial sin? That’s pretty ambitious. Last I checked, we can’t take it with us anyway. And one of Sabre’s commentors pointed out very clearly that the Catholic church is pretty wealthy, is it not? (Excluding all those pesky priests-fondling-altar-boys lawsuits.)

Now, see, that’s where I really take it personally. Maybe I’m too sensitive, but it bugs the boojabbers out of me how all these churches are up their attendees’ asses for bigger and better donations of both money and time. I mean, isn’t church where the tired, huddled masses can go for hope? I stay home when I’m out of money because I feel guilty that I ain’t got nothin’ to give. And when you’re down on your luck, whether it’s living on the streets or simply having a “Calgon, take me away!” episode, shouldn’t the first place you feel you CAN turn be your church?

Oh well. Just another attempt by the Catholic church to pretend it’s still relevant. I can see George Carlin’s character in “Dogma” chanting, “Catholicism Wow!”

Nothing’s news around these parts. The whole hallway at work is still populated (circa 9 p.m.). Good thing is, I was so engrossed in my day that I didn’t realize it was so late. I also got mah monies for the next year, as it’s raise time. Whee!

Hell, I’m just glad to have a job in this economy. But they were kind to me anyway, so whee. Now if I could just get the cats to get a job, life would be pretty damn good.

What else? Lots of alcohol this weekend. Went drinking out of state with the lovely Sabre et al. A creepy dude was trying to pick up our friend, and he asked my name. I said it (think “Sunshine”) and he’s like, “John?”

Do you know how many times people do that to me? Do you know any girls named John?!?!

So I repeated my name. And he goes, “Ah! Like the dishwashing detergent!”

He was all sorts of special. I’ll stop talking about that now — can’t breathe past the vomit in my mouth from the memory.

But speaking of things, well, I shouldn’t speak of (but isn’t that why y’all come here?), I was driving home that night when I almost made an illegal left turn (there was a sign pointing to the road I needed — the problem was, the actual exit was another 35 yards away). So, genius goes to make the turn when she sees that:

A) It’s a one-way
B) There’s a cop sitting right there, waiting to pull my inebriated ass over

Oy.

So, I corrected myself in a big hurry and got on the right track. And hell if that cop didn’t follow me for five solid miles.

I wasn’t worried — believe me, I can drink. But I was really tired, hence why my judgment was off about where my actual exit was. Thank the lord above, the cop decided I was fine and toddled off to irritate some other out-of-towner.

I ended up sleeping through church yesterday, even though they very kindly e-mailed us to remind us to set our clocks ahead so that we wouldn’t miss Sunday services. Fuck, I usually roll into church with the prior night’s bar wristband(s) — this time, I kept my drunk ass in bed and missed out altogether.

I was dumb and didn’t drink my requisite gallon of water, nor did I have any headache medicine on the premises. I did get a glass of water and put it on the nightstand, although I was rudely awakened two hours into my slumber because Maddie was trying to drink out of the glass and ended up knocking it over because her pudgy widdle head got stuck in it. Scared the crap outta me. Brat.

What else? Oh, I dyed the drapes to match the carpet. Exciting stuff, I tell ya. Don’t you wish you were me?

Am down to no money whatsoever till payday. I could return two pairs of shoes I have in my closet, but really — who gives up shoes for food? But alas, my bonus is arriving on payday, so if the blog goes dark for a month, assume I’ve taken a vacation and left the laptop behind. …

Apparently I forgot to tell my friends that I went to see Bon Jovi at the Verizon Center last week. Which, come on — I missed them exactly once, the last time they toured. I was in Vegas or something. But alas, I gots me some Jersey Boy fix last week, as witnessed below:

I didn’t take the photo, so I can’t take credit for it. Shit, I was snapping shots with my iPhone and, while that’s one handy-dandy lil gadget, it doesn’t cut it when you’re sitting in section 407!

I was sitting with what I like to call the Jersey Syndicate — the over-30 crowd. There were three teen-agers two rows down who were dancing to all the new Bon Jovi songs, and they were sort of pissed at the rest of us for being just fine in our seats. Shit, we were all suffering from vertigo up in Peanut Heaven. (I was willing to pay for better seats, but apparently they were all sold out at 10 a.m. on the Saturday morning they went on sale. Humph.) No dancing for Goddess this time around!

What was funny was when the old stuff would come on (“Runaway,” “Keep the Faith,” “Sleep when I’m Dead”), the kiddos would sit down and go, “I don’t know that!” But the rest of us? Were singing at the top of our lungs — every single lyric, perfectly. It was awesome.

Video from the Chicago show of my favorite, favorite song, “These Days”:

*swoon*

Daughtry was the opener, which I had forgotten about until I got to Chinatown. OMG, you know I’m busy when I forget such crucial details. But when I bought the tickets, there was no assigned opening act and it was going to be a toss-up between the All-American Rejects (meh) and the glorious Chris Daughtry. I was one happy Goddess when I found out that it was going to be an excellent tour package.

Daughtry did an amazing version of “One” which I think was way better than the original U2 version but not quite as soulful as Mary J. Blige’s.

But dude knows how to cater to his hair-metal support group audience, as he played Motley Crue’s “Home Sweet Home” before leading into his own single “Home.” At that point my vertigo issues dissipated for the night, as I was creaming my jeans and was happily stuck to my chair for the duration. 😉

Speaking of hair metal mania, I am jonesing to go to Rocklahoma in July. d00d! Bret Michaels, Warrant, Cinderella, L.A. Guns, Enuff Z’Nuff, Tesla, Night Ranger, Pretty Boy Floyd, Tora Tora, XYZ, Trixter, Kingdom Come, Triumph … holy shit, the list goes on and on.

It may be the year of the rat, but 2008 is turning out to be the year of the AquaNet. Sweet! 🙂