Caterwauling

Chicago Cityscape, originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn.

Was just missing Chicago and wanted to remember it. I took this of the downtown area from Navy Pier and loved how the moon was hanging low that night. Good times.

I’ve been describing yesterday as a “crankypants pulled on too tight, thus creating a muffin top” kind of day. And given the fact that I can’t relax enough to sleep, I’m going to operate under the assumption that the crankypants are pretty much soldered to my ass again today.

So I had the choice of either taking on four new projects and giving up my favorite project, or keeping the status quo. And genius here decided to give up the favorite in favor of four more. Because apparently my crow’s feet weren’t deepening quickly enough.

It all started a month ago with high hopes of hiring another person to help juggle the knives and broken glass. It wound down two weeks ago with, OK, we’re not getting a new hire but maybe I can borrow a really competent person until someone takes the stiletto off of our throats. Everybody wins.

Then I come to find out that well, it’s not going to be quite so easy or clean or tidy. So basically, what did I want to do?

So I suggested giving up all the pain-in-the-ass projects in favor of revolving my life around the one thing I love — the one thing that pains me every day of my life because I simply cannot give it the love it needs.

Well, that wasn’t an option so, in a not-small dose of “fuckitol,” I said I’d give it up to someone whom I thought would take good care of it.

I think overall the decision was rooted in logic, and I do believe it’s going to be in better hands. I mean, we’ve been meeting about it and what’s funny is how I’ve gotten my passion for it back. I’ve treated the project like silly putty — I simply deal with it to fill the holes and cracks between the other PITA projects … to the extent that it was kind of becoming a PITA itself because all my dreams for it were slowly shriveling up.

And maybe it’s the mood swings, but I’m actually really sad and probably, moreover, really surprised at how quickly the transition is happening. Don’t get me wrong — in a week and a half, the next wave of projects is about to crash over me and knock me out — so I won’t be feeling like Britney losing custody of Sean Preston and Jayden James for too long. In fact, I can still have a Britney-two-overnights-a-week custody arrangement with my beloved project, so I’ll become OK with that. (Does that make the new project lead K-Fed?)

Anyway, I guess I’ve been ambling along without any real drama these past few months, so I guess I was overdue to not only have the rug pulled out from under me, but to pull it out from under myself. But what we’re all hoping is that by offloading the stuff that wasn’t inspiring me, I can focus on being a more-prolific contributor. That is, less is more. Or something like that.

I just feel like I’ve lost something else that I cherish, only to replace it with something else that will drive me crazy. It’s like another part of my life: I’ve decided “Losing a Whole Year” fits wonderfully as my theme song. So here I am feeling like the last year of my life has been poured into things that either just aren’t that into me … or me into them.

I know my beloved project will fare better in more-focused hands at the helm. I guess I just wonder why I can’t ever part with the other shit (work or otherwise) that’s really weighing me down when getting rid of THAT is what might inspire me to dazzle in every area.

I use the phrase “-adjacent” a lot — happiness-adjacent, wealth-adjacent, sanity-adjacent, etc. I picked it up when I realized that people claim to live in D.C. when they live in, say, Silver Spring, Rockville or, oh, Frederick, Md. So they’re not *really* from D.C. — they’re merely D.C.-adjacent.

So I’m doing some laundry at my friend’s “river house” in Colonial Beach, Va., so you could say I’m normalcy-adjacent this weekend. My god, it’s better than a five-star hotel here. I’m sitting on the indoor balcony that overlooks the second-floor living room, all of which overlooks the Potomac River. There are so Starbucks or Wall-Marts for 150 miles. No air pollution, noise pollution, nothin’. I saw a family of raccoons sitting at the side of the single-lane road to the house, and as it’s about 2 1/2 miles from the main drag to the house, there had to be about 12 deer along my way. I even saw baby deer. I’ve never seen them before.

I took a few photos while I’ve been here, but one thing is certain — the most-photographic moments happened when a camera was nowhere within reach.

I can officially use “hot-tubbed” as a verb now, as I did it last night and again this morning simply because I could. It’s perched right on the edge of a cliff, if that isn’t slightly scary, but OH MY GOD watching the sailboats go by while you’re getting a back massage from water jets, well all I can say is “sweeeeeettt.”

What amazes me is how my friend basically tossed me the keys to this riverside paradise and said have fun. I live in a rinky-dink closet with old-ass appliances because that’s all that $1,500 can buy you in D.C. (ahem, NOT adjacent). Everything here is state-of-the-art, from the plasma TVs to the jacuzzi to the washer/dryer to the four bathrooms (mine had the handlheld shower nozzle. Mmm, joy). Every room is decorated beautifully — everything’s a nautical theme, but different color schemes. And the bath products — different lines of them in each bathroom, many of which are from Hawaii. Good lord, do I HAVE to go back to my shitty life today?

All I have to say is to choose your traveling companions wisely. And even if you choose based on who deserves it most as opposed to whom would be the most fun, that’s fine but you’re going to be ever-so-slightly stressed out, even despite the grand hug that paradise gives you.

I see why wealthy people are so damn happy. The view is just inspirational — all I can see is water for miles. It’s amazing to want to take care of your surroundings — I’d sooner turn in the keys to my apartment and move without my crap than really clean it. Don’t get me wrong, I do clean it. When the mood strikes. But when you hate from the bottom of your soul your living conditions/situation, well, it’s easier to just go shopping than trying to put lipstick on a pig.

But weekends like these, I treasure. I’m very lucky to have good people in my job and my life who care about me, who are happy to let me tag along to see parts of the world that I would never otherwise know about. I put these experiences in the bank inside my head of “I want that; I’m going to work toward having that.” Because I deserve it — or, at least, I deserve more regualr exposure to awesome things. I’m just superbly grateful that others will entrust such awesomeness to me.

I guess you simply won’t know what you’re missing out on if, in fact, you’re missing out on it. And I look forward to “movin’ on up” from adjacent to a full-time resident, one of these days. Now I see why I work so hard … this is what I want it to result in.

I don’t know if I’m just busier than normal or whether I’m just in a good place these days, but it’s amazing how OK everything is. In fact, I’m kicking my standard feeling that things “could” be better” to the curb in favor of things “will be” better and, in their own way, they already “are.”

I’ve gone back to paper journaling, which is odd since I haven’t had a true diary in several years. I did keep a Word doc diary for quite a while, but I password-protected it and I can’t crack the code to save my life. I’m tempted to just delete the damn thing at this juncture, but I’m sure the magic phrase will come to me eventually.

I had a moment tonight when I was sitting outside a Starbucks with what was supposed to be a skinny mocha but now that SBUX has discontinued the sugar-free mocha syrup, it was just a regular nonfat latte, and I actually had three guys rolling by in their car, waving and smiling. And at first I thought they must have been looking at someone else. But I realized a few moments later that no one else was around. Who, me? *bats lashes at computer since no one else is watching* It was empowering. And somewhat unnerving, because how many people have passed me by whom I’ve never even noticed?

I’m starting to get some of my old sass back. I really retreated into myself for a while. The whys and hows and especially the ways I’m overcoming it don’t matter. I think I’m easing out of the survival mode I’ve unwittingly been thrust into for so many years. Survival is for wimps — it’s getting your groove back that’s the real challenge, and it’s the only real reward. Surviving sucks. Enjoying waking up (even if it is only to go to work) is what really takes some skills.

I think I found one of my new callings today. Again, it’s better left in my head to plot and strategize over for a little while longer. But I had one of those rare moments of clarity when it’s like, hmm, maybe this is one of those reasons why I was put on this earth.

Anyway, I’m having a string of good luck and I’m not even going to knock on wood (mostly because my desk is wrought-iron). I’m just going to expect for it to continue. This is a new approach for me, to not wait for the other proverbial shoe to drop. Just throw it across the room, if that’s what you’re waiting for, and look forward to the great stuff that’s destined to happen afterward.

No, I’m not in therapy or even reading self-help books. I’m just finally coming into my own. And no one or nothing can stop me. That’s the best feeling a person can ever have, and it’s great to feel good.

A meme, as seen at the lovely Amish Prom Queen’s royal castle:

1. What is in the back seat of your car right now? Nothing. Maybe a CD that didn’t work and I threw it back there in frustration, but I tend to stash all my crap on the passenger-side seat.

2. When was the last time you threw up? Mmm, food poisoning a year ago. Yummy. NOT FUN.

3. What’s your favorite curse word? Usually something that I make up on the fly. I started saying “fucker mouse” years ago as a nickname for an evil cat toy; now I pretty much say that phrase daily. My cube mates assume that we have mouse poop problems again and don’t inquire.

4. Name 3 people who made you smile today? Kim, Greg, Emily and Dulcie. Bonus points to Kim and Dulcie who told me I look like I’ve lost weight. 😉 And yes that’s four people and I don’t care because I could add six more to the list.

5. What were you doing at 8 a.m. this morning? Drinking coffee, nomming on a Special K bar and surfing the Internet.

6. What were you doing 30 minutes ago? Buying replacement headphone pads so I can use my noise-canceling headphones again. (Office mice ate the foam off the last pads.)

7. What will you be doing 3 hours from now? Whacking off Turning off the TV and commencing my six hours of zzzzs. Probably I’ll be wishing “Paranormal State” was on.

8. Have you ever been to a strip club? Oh hell yeah. I was always a good patron and a good tipper. 😉 I miss my friends with whom I used to hit the strip-club circuit more than anything, but yeah, I was always game to go. The seedier the joint, the better!

9. What is the last thing you said aloud? “The right (pedal) makes it go!” to an asshole Maryland driver.

10. What is the best ice cream flavor? I stopped eating ice cream. Not even gonna try to remember. OK, fine, if I had to, Ben & Jerry’s Cinnamon Buns.

11. What was the last thing you had to drink? Diet Coke.

13. What was the last thing you ate? Tomato Mozzarella salad, hold the onions, dressing on the side — from Panera.

14. Have you bought any new clothing items this week? Does a bear shit in the woods?

15. When was the last time you ran? Up the steps this afternoon. I was trying to get to my doc’s office before it closed to get a prescription refill. I got up all those flights in about two minutes flat. Seriously, why do I need a new piece of paper for a medication I’m not planning to go off anytime soon?

16. What’s the last sporting event you watched? I was promised Cubs tickets when I was in Chicago, although that was an Epic FAIL. Sore subject — let’s move on, shall we?

18. Who is the last person you emailed? I e-mailed my favorite customer service rep to wish him a happy belated birthday.

19. Ever go camping? Staying at anything below a four-star hotel is camping to me.

20. Do you have a tan? Chest and arms are tan still from hauling ass all over Chicago. Of course, that could be my new wave of freckles filling in the spots between the old ones; I am going to have an even freckle color by the end of the summer.

24. Do you drink your soda from a straw? Only Jamba Juice is straw-worthy.

25. What did your last IM say? “YES!” Of course, the last IM I received was, “I am going to slap a bitch.” 😀

26. Are you someone’s best friend? Yes.

27. What are you doing tomorrow? As little as possible.

28. Where is your mom right now? Holed up in the next room.

29. Look to your left, what do you see? *bonk* Ow. Lamp.

30. What color is your watch? The iPhone has the time on it; who needs something around her wrist when she has that?

31. What do you think of when you think of Australia? Heath Ledger, Nicole Kidman, koala bears

32. Would you consider plastic surgery? I can has unlimited spending account?

33. What is your birthstone? Emerald.

34. Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? Given my dearth of Spanish-speaking skills, neither is a terrific option around here. I tend to walk in so that I can point to pictures.

35. How many kids do you want? Honestly? Two. One of each. Of course, at this age, I’ll be happy with one.

36. Do you have a dog? Nope.

37. Last person you talked to on the phone? My doctor’s office to beg for prescription refills.

38. Have you met anyone famous? I hang around with celebrities in their respective fields.

39. Any plans today? Not today.

40. How many states have you lived in? 3 (does D.C. count as a state?)

41. Ever go to college? Yes.

42. Where are you right now? At my beloved Mac, at home.

43. Biggest annoyance in your life right now? Having a 50-year-old teenager.

44. Last song listened to? “In This Life” — Chantal Kreviazuk

46. Are you allergic to anything? Penicillin. Stupidity.

47. Favorite pair of shoes you wear all the time? My Crocs (Adara) in bronze. OMG, heaven for feet. There was one pair of ’em in Hudson Trail and the size was marked wrong so they were sitting all by themselves, waiting for Cinderella to come along and slide them on and fall in love with them. (UPDATE: Bought the silver/lavender pair just now. Yay! I <3 Crocs!)

48. Are you jealous of anyone? Weirdly enough, I am jealous of an abstract “someone.” I suppose I can say there’s a boy and I always envision where he *might* be and whomever might be lucky enough to be with him. And I want to stab her with a pencil, whomever “she” may be.

50. Is anyone jealous of you? Yes, and that would explain a lot.

51. What time is it? 9:29 p.m.

52. Do any of your friends have children? Yes.

53. Do you eat healthy? I went mainly vegetarian about a month ago.

54. What do you usually do during the day? Staring at a computer with noise-canceling headphones on, growling at annoying e-mails and incoherent copy, laughing at fun IM conversations, flipping off people who shouldn’t be parking in my lot and otherwise daydreaming to give myself the wherewithal to keep plugging away.

55. Do you hate anyone right now? Let’s just say I have the right to, if I would so choose to waste my energy on it.

56. Do you use the word ‘hello’ daily? Not really. I’m more of a “yo” and “howdy” and “hey” and “hi” kind of person.

58. How old will you be turning on your next birthday? 35; am enjoying my last year of being closer to 30 than to 40, kthxbai.

59. Have you ever been to Six Flags? I hear it’s terrible down here in D.C. I’m not a big fan of roller coasters or screaming children. I’d rather vacation in a big city and enjoy the architecture and other urban delights.

60. How did you get one of your scars? Emotional or physical? I have a scar on my knee that I got from a makeshift dodgeball game using a fucking medicine ball in the fourth grade. Lyle Washowich nailed me with the ball and I went DOWN. My jeans were ripped, my skin was gone, ugh. I knew my mom would be mad that my jeans were torn, and the school nurse told me that her son took scissors to his jeans to get the look I’d just created. 🙂 I felt SO much better, that at age 10 I looked as cool as a 17-year-old. However, Mom threw out those jeans and I was never allowed to speak of the incident again.

Millennium Park, originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn.

Those of you who are following me on Twitter (sorry, I don’t add people unless we’ve met in person) know that I’ve spent the past week in Chicago, basically having the time of my life.

So before that “I got out of town and away from all the B.S.” shine wears off, I just wanted to say howdy and share this lil iPhone photo of the Cloud Gate sculpture in Millennium Park.

I really missed being in a big city. Chicago is a cleaner version of Baltimore, and with much more to do, IMHO.

Some of the highlights:

Sushi Wabi — one of my boys ordered for me and it was a seaweed-wrapped orgasm, is all I can say.

Naha — the wine was a 2005 pinot noir with a smoky flavor and the foie gras is the best I’ve ever had. Nom nom nom.

Harry Caray’s — I paid $35 for the petit filet all by itself, and added a salad with the best Caesar dressing I’ve ever experienced, and of course topped it off with a nice Chianti. Sweet Jesus, I gave up meat a few weeks ago but couldn’t POSSIBLY go to Chicago without trying a steak. ;9 They can dress it up for you three different ways, with a gorgonzola crust or a house-made sauce. But I had it naked with what tasted like a simple salt-and-pepper crust. I remember Tweeting that I could die happy after that meal.

Park Grill — OK, I am aware that my highlights are food-related, but seriously, this meal cost me the least and made me pretty damn happy. The peach salad was meh, mostly because the dressing was abundant and I forgot to request it on the side. But the watermelon gazpacho was to die for. It tasted like it had Cajun spices in it and was topped with a shrimp and some tiny calamari rings. Good stuff. The eatery was also just outside of Millennium Park, so the city view was spectacular.

Oak Street Beach — I got here purely by accident, mostly because I was just so busy wandering that I figured I’d go till my feet screamed for mercy. It just so happened that I could rehabilitate my tootsies in the sand along Lake Michigan. Aaah, paradise.

Magnificent Mile — A hootenanny of stores all along Michigan Avenue. I barely bought anything — I guess I’d had enough with paying $15 each way for my one piece of checked luggage that I wasn’t willing to ship more shit home for a mere $35 for the second bag. Yaaar.

I tried to get into the Apple Store the day the new iPhone came out. Epic fail — the line went around the block. Not that I could afford it anyway, as my hotel just for the last three nights cost more than my stimulus check!

I purposely ran into an old friend along Michigan, where I believe we proceeded to talk for two hours. And I got to play with his new iPhone, so nyah. God, it was so good to catch up with someone who “knew me when.” It’s been about a dozen years but it felt like merely 10 minutes had passed since we’d last hung out.

I’ve come to regard it as a rite of passage now, running into people I grew up with/went to school with, in cities far away from where we first crossed paths. It’s a sign of growing up, I guess. It’s nice to know that there are people out there rooting for you — and you, for them — even when you don’t get the chance to hear/say it in person.

Wicked: the Musical — My friend warned me that I’d be singing the songs long after I left the Oriental Theater last night. He wasn’t kidding. OMG, loved, loved, LOVED it. It was the story of the Good Witch and the Wicked Witch as roommates and even friends in the prequel to “The Wizard of Oz.” And don’t think I am not eyeballing the “Defy Gravity” v-neck T-shirt even now. I was just bummed that the only apparel they had that said Chicago on it was a blah men’s T-shirt. But seriously, I got a GREAT seat at the last minute and that is just dandy by me.

I did a lot more stuff in Chi-town but we’ll leave the business stuff out of it. All in all, though, it was a great trip and I was thrilled that my boys invited me. I spent enough money that this sort of has to qualify as my vacation, so it was a win all around. And I’d LOVE to say it’s good to be home but, well, Twitterers know THAT story. …

The blog usually goes dark around July Fourth, and I mean that in any sense of the word you want to give it. I don’t often post and if I do, it’s pretty depressing, so why bother?

July 3 brought my great-grandmother Anastasia’s birthday (she would’ve been 100) and July 4, just as fireworks are starting to be shot off across the land, brought the nine-year anniversary of my grandmother Rose’s death. July 5 marked both the birthday and date of death for my great Uncle Stan, Anastasia’s brother.

It oftentimes takes everything in me to make it to July 6, so here we are and phew, am I glad that this particular anti-holiday is over.

I’ve waxed and waned over the failure of the healthcare system for every death that I’ve experienced, so I’ll spare you the Charlie Brown’s teacher routine and just say how glad I am that I knew these wonderful people, even if it was just simply too short a time to really get to know them.

I’ve never talked about Uncle Stan, mostly because he was some strange entity who lived on the farm with Aunt Josie. What little I remember of Josie was that she always wore sheer white tights and hadn’t shaved her legs in decades. I also remember that she claimed she bathed in Clorox, although I don’t think anyone could survive that kind of trauma.

What I remember most about Stan and Josie was that they talked about “kidnapping” me, of taking me to the farm because they never had any kids of their own and they would have loved to have me there.

Sad to say, I spent my youth pretty fucking freaked out over visits from Stan and Josie. 😉

Two weeks after my high school graduation, shortly after we lost Aunt Josie, Uncle Stan showed up on the doorstep with a cashier’s check for me. My grandmother had apparently told him how I had applied to several top-notch colleges and had gotten accepted to every last one. Only problem was, I didn’t have two dimes to rub together.

Sure, I got a full, one-year scholarship for the school I ended up choosing (for that very reason), but room and board wasn’t covered and I really wanted to socialize myself that first year. (Read: I wanted to get the fuck away from my family at the first-available opportunity.)

The amount of the check isn’t important — those of you who had your parents pick up the bill for college would say that barely bought you a semester. But to me, it was a million dollars.

My grandmother and I had many fights over that money … she wanted me to buy a car, live at home and find a job till I got married. *bwahahahaaa* I figured I had a genius-level IQ and a desire to make a difference in this world, so I was going to use it for school.

I ended up making the money stretch for a few years. I got lots of loans and grants and found that apartment living cost a third of what the dorms did. (Without having to buy a meal plan, I didn’t have to eat, so that helped!) I know some people around me were resentful because I got that helping hand, and I was sometimes forced into being generous.

I used the last of the money on a round of roommate roulette that meant I couldn’t finish my senior year on time. So I worked three jobs and saved and ended up having a year-and-a-half-long senior year when I did go back.

Anyway, I guess in the hustle and bustle of life, there are so many seemingly forgotten people at unmarked graves, whether via cremation or simply the family’s inability to afford a headstone. And I don’t want this world to not know that the people who have helped to shape me were here.

I didn’t get this far on my own. Yes, I fought every step of the way, but sometimes when things looked downright hopeless, a gift appeared out of the bloody blue, at the exact moment it needed to.

Along those lines, I made a friend this week. We both grew up in the same area, we both lived at the same apartment complex two years ago and never crossed paths, we live in the same area now, we both take our two cats to the same veterinary practice and to the same doctor, to boot. Plus she mentioned she’s been wanting to visit a new church, and oh gee, it’s the one I’ve attended for the past seven or eight months! We’re the same age and she’s about to inherit her mother the way I did. It’s just spooky, how someone can strike up a conversation and it’s like, how have we not met before this?

I was telling another friend that I’m more giddy about having a new friend than I am about getting a date. Dates are hell. Dates suck. I don’t care if there’s free food, as I am eating rabbit food these days anyway.

Dates are playing dress-up and pretending to be whomever it is that they think they want you to be, even though they don’t know what the hell they want and you really have to spend the whole time subtly grilling them on whether they’re really the victim they present to you or whether the common denominator in all their failed relationships is the fact that their dick won’t stay firmly in their pants.

You wonder whether they’re attracted to trainwrecks because they either have too much sympathy for people in need (ooh, aww, reminds me of me!) or because it allows them to keep the world at arm’s length and they are simply too self-involved to ever love anyone or anything but their PlayStation or Wii console.

Anyway, a FRIEND! Now THAT’S something joy-inducing. Someone to do things with, talk to, experience things together … someone who won’t tune you out while you’re talking because somebody with a nice rack bobs on by.

Don’t get me wrong … a good date DOES get the ol’ juices flowing. But in my quest to really, truly find out who I am and what I’m supposed to be, I’m jazzed when I meet someone who has either been where I’ve been or is headed where I’m going because that’s a signpost along my way.

This isn’t to discount the importance of people who have come along my path already … they were there for a reason. And while perhaps it’s my own doing (or lack of doing) that they aren’t traveling beside me right now, I have fond memories and a lot of gratitude that they showed me the next destination and, in their own way, prepared me for it.

And, in turn, I will replicate Uncle Stan’s actions to someone else who’s praying for a miracle, when I am in a position to perform one. That’s all it is, just a cycle of seeing who/what you DON’T want to become and instead emulating those whom you DO respect and admire.

And the thing about a friend? It’s just nice sometimes to have someone who’s right where you are, along for the ride. Even if we offer nothing but moral support to each other for a brief period, till we get to our next stop on the journey. If it’s the same stop, great. If not, so long and thanks for all the fish.

All right, time to pack and launder and work my eleventy billion hours and get no sleep and roll out to the ‘burbs to the airport and meetings meetings meetings and finally a reprieve. Bah. God give me strength to get through the next 72 hours!

Was this what I was dreaming of when I was working so hard to get into/stay in college? I don’t think so. But it’s sure not bad. I feel like I’m finally coming into my own, whatever that means. I feel like Anastasia, Rose, Calvin, Stan, Josie, Donald, Lenna and all the others who have left us during the past few years saw that I would go far, even when I couldn’t. I am glad they could see it then, since they can’t see me now. Or maybe they can.

I hope I’ve made them proud. And I’ve got a few miracles left in me yet. ….

Well, I did it.

I’m getting out of town, damn it.

Hell yeah!

I’ve had a really good week. Sure, I worked 40 hours in three days, but what else is new? But for every excruciatingly annoying moment, there was a pleasant one and an awesome one. So, win!

It doesn’t kill much of my vacation time, but the fund is pretty exhausted. Humph. Damn gas prices. Just filled up for $4.23 a gallon. *kicks the oil speculators*

I was having buyer’s remorse yesterday as I talked with my travel agent and kept repeating, “How much?” every time she gave me a hotel or a flight price. This is a business/personal trip, so at least the airfare’s taken care of. *whew* So I felt a little justified in splurging for the four-star hotel for “my” portion of the stay, since I oftentimes stay outside the city limits and spend the extra money to cab it everywhere.

Besides, I hear it’s going to rain the whole time I’m there (joy), so at least I’ll have access to a spa and room service. So if that’s the extent of my vacation? I won’t be mad at that.

What’s funny is how I keep hearing that we’re in an economic downturn (or is it a recession) and nobody’s traveling. Really? I couldn’t find an available hotel room or an empty seat on a flight to save my life. It’s pretty bad when it would cost the same to book on Expedia as it does to call an agent. The good part about booking through a live person, however, is that I can actually cancel or modify my itinerary and I don’t have to forfeit my life savings.

Now, the real trick will be seeing whether I can keep up my newfound vegetarianism when I’m out and about. It’s funny — I gave up meat a few weeks ago and I find I don’t miss it that much. I had to “cheat” because I got home from work at 10:30 p.m. on Thursday and all I had was a lousy Lean Cuisine in the freezer, and it was terrible. I don’t know if it was just the fact that it was a flavorless frozen dinner (I tried spicing it up) but bleah, it wasn’t so awesome.

Anyway, speaking of not so awesome, I’ve been cleaning all morning. It’s the first holiday I haven’t worked in probably a decade, so I had to do something with myself. It’s debatable whether I will attend any Fourth of July festivities as we have daily thunderstorms and another one is being predicted for tonight. And if there’s one thing I hate more than people crowds, it’s being rained on.

Why is it the one holiday in which I don’t have to wake up and go to work the next day has the crummiest weather on the docket?

There was a time when my friends and I blogged every single day. Multiple times, if we could swing it. But then days and even a week or so can go by, and none of us update.

It’s sad, really, because we are all so busy that tossing up a blog posting was our way of saying to the world that we’re still alive, and it was kind of our connection to each other. Especially for someone like me — who’s changed addresses, e-mails, jobs and phone numbers, not to mention that folks who use to know me probably wouldn’t recognize me if they passed me on the street — I understand that the blog is kind of my “still breathing” signal.

I had asked one friend whose blogging abated long before mine did, why she didn’t update anymore. She just kind of shrugged and said, “Don’t really need to.”

I don’t think it’s that I don’t need to use this space to record my life; maybe it’s that I’ve stopped wanting to. Or simply having time to.

I’ve been on this super-secret mission for quite some time now. Nobody really knows what I’m up to and it’s weird, not touching base with everyone to say, “OMG, you wouldn’t believe the ridiculously awesome things that happened last night.” Because although yesterday does not rank in the top 10 days of my life to date, the after-work hours (since the workday was what they call a “big fat fucking waste”) were just so, so surprising. And pleasant.

And maybe I want to keep a little of that to myself for now.

I remember with one of my relationships that I was just so SURE was going to turn out to be something, I blabbed. Not here. Well, OK, yeah I did. But in another place where I post, I was just all hopes and smiles and “OMG, I deserve this and I can’t wait to see where it goes.”

You know what that’s called? Jinxing yourself. Seriously. What a holy fucking fizzle that was.

So I’ve sort of trained myself to get my hopes up a little — just a teeny, tiny bit — but the less I share with the people around me, oftentimes the better it turns out.

It’s strange that way. And somewhat disappointing, because I really do love to document my journey. I dunno, I guess I just want to give others hope, that if I can make miracles work, so can they.

I also suppose I want to be able to see where I went wrong … and where I went right. I know that when you finally reach a goal, you can forget a lot of the details that got you there or the ones you could have eliminated to get you there sooner.

In any case, the important thing is that, even though I can’t really say what I’m up to, I’m still up to some things. And maybe it’s a blessing that I not get caught up in all the details till I can have time to reflect on them and make sense of them in a completely different context.

It’s weird not talking it out. But it’ll be OK because I’ll just have more stories to tell from the other side. 🙂