Caterwauling

I’ve often commented, and probably blogged at some point, about how work is what defines one’s life. Well, mine anyway.

As the good news spreads about my impending departure, the question that I find that I am not always asked is “where.” Everyone assumes you’ll stay in the same apartment because, really, isn’t changing jobs traumatic enough without changing residences and, worse, going to a whole new city/state?

Ian’s mom warned me about, for lack of a better term, the “18-month itch.” That you’ll start your whole life over but it takes that long to actually either get adjusted to your new area, or that’s when you’ll totally freak out and wonder WTF it is that you just did with your life.

Seven years ago, I had a very difficult time adjusting to D.C. I’d left behind a lot of great friends and also came to a really shitty job that didn’t pay squat. I’d been making good money in Pittsburgh at another horrible job, but I didn’t take into account the higher cost of living here. So, every spare penny went to rent/bills.

And even though I didn’t have any cash to go out and see what the city had to offer, I still couldn’t pay all my bills. Hence, my looming debt spiral began. Add to that losing said shitty job, and the financial woes worsened.

I’ve gotten back on track and while I’m certainly not here living the high life, I do OK. I have a safe apartment in an OK neighborhood. My car works. Job’s good. The highlight has been my amazing work family, and the handful of friends who have put up with my perennial absence at most social events due to my overcommitment at said job.

But this time, those were my choices. I guess they’re always my choices, but I’d rather say no to going out because I have a big project to finish then because I’m hiding in my apartment, too ashamed that I have seven dollars to last till payday.

Which still happens, but meh. I at least get my kicks in there when I can. I don’t feel like I missed out on a ton of things, so that counts for a lot.

There will always be the things I didn’t get to do — see a performance at Kennedy Center, or wear the dress I bought six years ago in case an event cropped up. (You could fit two of me in that dress now, so I’m not complaining!)

“Each mistake that I made was right
For it led me here
And now to your side
Could I travel
The rest of the way with you?

I’ve been looking all my life
For what it means to be alive
I’m wide awake and full of light
In the peace I find in your eyes.”

— Tara MacLean, “Here and Now“

But yeah, even though it’s a mobile society, I’m choosing to move to my new city so I can be in the office. I never asked to telecommute. Much as I hate offices in general, there’s something about being with that work family every day that makes it worthwhile. I’ve bonded so closely with people at every job, and most of it came from being in the trenches together. I mean, we just “get” each other after a while. You can’t read a mood over Instant Messenger. And I hate the phone, for the most part. At least if you’ve seen me in the office for 10 hours, I don’t feel obligated to answer calls/e-mails after I leave. As a freelancer, I didn’t have that opportunity — you had to be available 24/7 or else be perceived as a slacker, at least in my experience.

But it’s funny how, for a great opportunity, you just drop everything. I mean, that’s what I’m doing and it’s not a moment too soon, if you ask anyone who knows me. But I’m buying into a new lifestyle. The job could be a godsend or it could be my demise. (For the record, I’m erring toward the former!)

And that’s what life is — making the best decisions you can, with the information you have available at the time. You can belabor the issue and come up with pros and cons till the cows come home, but it all comes down to the almighty paycheck and how much of your soul you have to sell to earn it.

The problem with giving as much notice as I did (I gave a lot) is what happens in your own head in the meantime. I mean, I’m so attached to my work and my work family that I wanted to savor this time. But at some point, you’re just ready to go. Not to leave; go and leave are two very distinct words here.

But you’re eyeing the door, waiting for your chance to fly or run or hit the bricks or whatever you want to call it. You just KNOW there’s a new life waiting for you, and even though it’s going to be hard to make a new life, you want to get started on it as soon as you can.

Maybe before you chicken out. 🙂

I don’t think it’s any secret that I’m burned out. I did it to myself, so don’t look for any blame games here. I wanted to do my best and I gave it at every opportunity. And now that I’ve switched from full-speed ahead to normal pace, I don’t know what to do with myself. One of my superiors approached me recently to say that I can have my job back at any time, if I want it, because he’s super-impressed with me. And I said, you know, I’m only operating at 70% capacity these days — you’d have your socks knocked off if you’d seen me at 100%.

Maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that I’m wearing out. But again, I don’t think it was any secret that I’m not at my peak anymore. And I would come back in a heartbeat, if things didn’t work out where I’m going. I’ve never said that about ANY job I’ve left before.

But again, that’s the thing — you’ve got to go after the new adventure with your whole heart or else what’s the point?

A friend on F-book posted a note yesterday about “economic survivor’s guilt.” That those of us who are thriving may feel not just blessed, but also a little bit guilty for doing fine while the rest of the world implodes. I think the only thing keeping me from climbing up on the cross for having two really good jobs is the fact that for many months in the past, I had zero of which to speak. After the famine comes the feast, and I am sure that will be true of everyone else out there as well.

And hopefully, those who’ve lost their way or been drop-kicked off-course won’t do what I did and give up everything to show they’re worthy of making a comeback.

I wouldn’t do anything differently than I have up until now, but I am definitely going to do it all differently from here. …

Please to be using this one instead. Kthxbai.

I’m innocent, I promise!

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I don’t have a whole lot to say right now, unbelievably so. Yesterday started out so promisingly, and yet Monday decided to stick its face in the toilet and try to flush its head every hour, on the hour. Today was markedly improved, thanks to a loss of power at the Employment Ranch.

I made it to my regular Tuesday night Weight Watchers meeting, which I haven’t attended in more than a month. This is the group I will miss most.

I’ve lost about 10 pounds since they last saw me (down three tonight!) and I wore a cute outfit tonight. Compliments o’plenty. The leader is always so happy to see me and to prod me to brag about myself to the group. Which he did. And I was able to pay him back by telling everyone the great advice he gave me before I went on my latest odysseys. Because, it worked! I had been plateaued, and now I’m buying “normal” clothing sizes again. So, squee!

Instead of being sad about leaving them behind when I hightail it south, I realized I couldn’t have come this far without them. I’m officially down more than 55 pounds at this point. Which meant I totally earned that homemade pizza I just scarfed down with entirely too much sliced Parmesan cheese from Trader Joe’s. (Which I will also leave behind. Along with Wegman’s. Now THERE’S something to cry about!)

I took a photo of myself today, as I am apt to do every few weeks or so, to help me chart my progress. I fear I will always have a Cabbage Patch Kid head, but I do see the changes. There was a line in “Benjamin Button” when Cate Blanchett’s character asked Brad Pitt what it’s like growing younger, and he says he doesn’t know because he can’t stop staring at his own eyes.

That’s where I’m at, right now. I see my eyes emerging from all the pudge. I see my cheekbones and jawline and other things that have been sort of indistinct during the past few years.

I was joking with an old friend today — we’d worked so closely together on a huge, honkin’ project over the past few years before being unceremoniously separated, and now we have to make it a point to get together because our paths were forcibly ripped so far apart. And I recalled when I was 27 and bought my first car. I didn’t know how to drive it, mind you. Just wanted to buy one because I finally could afford it. And suddenly, when I mastered it, I decided to leave town and move to D.C.

And now, I’ve melted 55 pounds off my frame and since I’m looking like a new person on the outside and am working toward catching up with the metamorphosis on the inside, I’m packing my bags and leaving town again.

What is it about me that I can’t just have a teeny little bit of change — I have to nuke and pave the whole hard drive and start over from scratch?

What I love right now, as word starts to spread of my imminent departure, is the happiness everyone is feeling for me. There’s the initial element of shock, like whoa, the goddess is abdicating her throne? And then there’s the joy. And then … the “OMG, WTF and WHO is going to take your place?”

I admit, I get a kick out of it every time. Because I never thought I was anything all that special. Just a monkey with a keyboard and an abnormally high b.s. tolerance. 🙂 But what thrills me is that, while I wasn’t looking, special things were happening … to me, for me and BECAUSE OF me.

After the initial “holy shit, what are we going to do” comment that has come from every person I’ve encountered, the million-dollar question is, what becomes of the roomie?

I mean, if I’m starting over, it’s time to start over over. And she seems compliant. Hell, she offered not to hold me back. I invited her to join me, because I really don’t know what will become of her otherwise. And I don’t need the guilt from THAT, if it isn’t a positive. But there’s something freeing about the prospect of leaving it all behind.

I often drive between Maryland and Virginia. You’ll have that when you dwell in D.C. And I have a theory about the state line. When I cross the American Legion Bridge as I’m riding the Beltway, I’m cognizant that it separates Maryland from Virginia.

And what I do is consciously leave my problems in Maryland. That’s where I encounter stress. And when I go to visit my friends in Virginia, or when I use that highway to find my way back to the District, I say hello to Virginia and declare what a good time I will have. And when I return to Maryland, I don’t necessarily make it a point to pick up my problems, but I always know in the back of my head that they are there, waiting for me.

It will be nice to drive away from Maryland one last time and know that all the b.s. is no longer visible in the rearview mirror, the faster I drive.

Of course, I leave a lot of people behind whom I love. The love comes with me, of course. If I hadn’t lost it somewhere along the way, that is. 🙂

One thing I’d love to leave behind are the shit landmines and barf cakes that Maddie (pictured) provides on a daily basis. I worry about her making this trip. She has been in poor health and has needed surgery for a while, but I can’t justify the expense right now when I’ve got a circus move to orchestrate.

So, I’m looking for pet-friendly hotels along the route. This will probably be her last big adventure. But I can officially say we’ve been everywhere and done everything together, so we’ve had a good run. I just wonder whether it’s MY last big adventure, too, or whether I’ll be packing up the car and the kitties and heading someplace else in another decade.

I admit, I am far from done with life adventures, but maybe this time, I’ll have a home I truly want to return to. It will be nice to have a true home base and not just another place I’m always trying to escape.

“I won’t be far from where you are
If ever you should call
You meant more to me than anyone
That I ever loved at all
But you taught me how to trust myself
And so I say to you
This is what I have to do.”

— Missy Higgins, “Where I Stood“

OK, first of all, if you’re going to buy that song, get the live version that I linked to. Because it Rocks. Socks.

And second of all, because good news travels fast and I’d like to actually be the one to deliver it, I’ve accepted a job offer a thousand miles away.

I hadn’t thought much about sharing it here. I mean, of course I let my friends at work know — I shouldn’t even call them “friends” because they’re SO much more. This has been my family.

And unlike my blood relatives, I am having a very hard time reconciling with the fact that I’m saying goodbye.

Well, as one of my boys said, it’s not a goodbye as much as a “ciao for now.” And I haven’t told all my boys. Just the ones I’ve been through war with the longest. The newer soldiers will know in time. But what’s breaking my heart is leaving the people with whom I spent my days, nights, months and years.

And, in that, tells me that it was time to go. I wanted to go while I could walk; I didn’t want to run.

And I’m definitely walking … toward something.

I haven’t had much chance to get really excited — I gave my notice and I have projects to wrap up and, oh yeah, an apartment to toss into boxes at a rapid pace.

And I have friends to see before I leave.

I had kind of left the “goodbye to friends” as a footnote in my mind. It’s denial, pure and simple, that I can’t just wander over to Arlington on the weekends after my move date.

But that’s the thing, I haven’t done a whole lot of that in the past few years. I “see” my local friends online more than I do in person. So, what does comfort me in large part is that we’re so connected on the Web that I will never lose touch with the ones I love the most.

And what burns me is that I never had the time to give them while I was still here. But I can’t change the past. I type this note as a general “I suck” to all those who came into my life whom I never cherished the way they deserved to be. I think you all understand that what little free time I had, I used to recharge and self-preserve. And I thank you for loving me anyway.

I wasn’t sure where this “coming out” blog entry was going to go. I had spent the day with Tom, Tiff, Ian and Ian’s mom. (Seriously, I would consider marrying Ian because I’d have the best mother-in-law ever! that and he’s a catch, too, but still! All right, back to the subject at hand. …)

And Ian had commented like, OK, what’s up with all these Tweets from “undisclosed locations” and all these random beach photos with no real locations/stories attached to them?

So I thought, yeah, I should probably out myself here and tell you that there’s a reason why Will Smith’s “Miami” has been an earworm for the past week since I accepted my new offer. 😉

(Actually, I just came across a Counting Crows song of the same title. Buying it now, in preparation of becoming a Southern girl.)

There’s a lot to say, but I am exhausted from bursting into tears every hour, on the hour, as my work family members visit me to first yell at me or to ask me to say it isn’t true, and then as we hug and cry and reminisce and promise to go out to lunch or dinner before I blow out of town.

I was really worried that the news wouldn’t be taken favorably, since I’m going to work for a company we’ve done business with for years. But that’s the thing in mine or any field — there’s a finite talent pool, in a finite specialty area. Lots of lily pads in the same pond.

My fondest hope, and I do see it coming to pass, is that we’re all on the same traveling-circus circuit — ergo, “ciao for now.” We’ll cross paths again. I have a real opportunity to grow and change and learn a boatload of new things and to … gasp … have a life! On the beach!

I admit, I’m in love with the possibilities. I wasn’t looking to leave, but I was courted by three different companies. I told them all I was fine where I was. But I did my due diligence and at least listened. And I realized how complacent I’d become.

Well, complacent isn’t the right word. I’m antsy. I have been for a while. I finally got into a routine after a long time of whizzing around like a boomerang, and I learned that I hate routines. It’s like the boomerang bonked me on the head and I felt disoriented while in maintenance mode, waiting for the next interesting project to come along.

I also felt a lot of guilt and loyalty because my company gave me every opportunity under the sun to shine. I’ve become a whole different person under their care. I have a whole new, specialized (marketable) skill set that few in my field possess, thanks to them.

And what I came to realize as I had my shiny new offer in-hand, was that I took all those opportunities and ran with them. I gave my heart and soul and life to be the best I could be. And even though what I still do is pretty damn special, there’s a whole lot out there that I haven’t tried yet.

I just hope that I thrive the way everyone thinks I will. I admit, a bitch is exhausted from this emotional roller-coaster, not to mention all the out-of-state travel for these interviews. 😉

But just think, I get to press the “reset” button on my life. OK, I know my demographic — I get to hit Apple-Z. 🙂 Who gets to do that? Do you know how many people have told me how lucky I am?

My boys are all telling me they love me and they know I’m going to do great and that I should go with their blessing and make them proud.

And everyone is saying that, really. I knew they’d all be fine without me, whether they want to believe it or not. 😉 But I couldn’t let go until I knew they’d be OK.

In fact, I may just have a contender to replace me. The circle of life, I suppose. And I loved it when one of my girls said that no one will ever be truly able to fill my shoes.

A selfish part of me hopes that’s true, although I really do hope they can come close. What we all built together is just too special for it to not head in the direction it needs to go, with someone who’s got the energy to take it there.

As for me, like I told my boss, this could either be the best decision I’ve ever made, or the worst. But I am a journalist at heart, and I need to get the story. It’s my story to tell, and my story to go after. And not having the story to tell, no matter how it turns out, would be the real tragedy in all of this.

I’m going to get my scoop now. 🙂

“‘Cause I don’t know who I am
Who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don’t know if I could stand
Another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
‘Cause she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood.”

Atlantic Sunrise

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I’m freezing my ass off here in Ye Olde D.C., although my ass will be numb tonight after Tom and Tiff and I spend 14 hours in a movie theater for the Oscar showcase.

(Didn’t we learn our lesson last year?)

Oh well. It’s tradition; what can I say? I just can’t believe I’m going to sit through “Benjamin Button” AGAIN. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it. But not enough to develop hemorrhoids in the name of Oscar preparation!

Anyway, your beloved Goddess will be returning to the beach in less than six weeks. (My life, I love it.) So allow me to indulge on this FREEZING winter’s day by looking at this little snapshot from the South Florida area from my hotel balcony. And yes, that’s the ocean.

Sigh. And *swoon.*

And guys, in case I forget to come back from my next vacation, you’re welcome to attend the Oscar Showcase with me in Miami, OK? 😉

“I never knew I was lost
Before you touched me
And I was set free.”

— Emmylou Harris, “In Rodanthe”

I’d noted on F-book yesterday that “I’d rather be blogging.” Of course, one very astute male reader asked me if I were sure “blogging” was the verb I was searching for. 😉 Ah, he knows me so well!

I’ve sort of taken a vow of blog silence for the past few days and should probably continue it. And yet, here I am, a fountain of every emotion under the sun and yet with nowhere else constructive to channel it.

Big things are happening here at Casa Caterwauling. I mean, when I decide to stir up the pot to make things interesting, I end up with a Category 5 hurricane. And right now is about the force of a Cat 3, and things are building.

What exactly am I up to, though? Can’t say. I mean, if you’re in the inner circle, even Stevie Wonder could see what’s been coming. But what I think is astounding everyone is the balls it took to do what I’m doing.

And that right there tells me it was time. I mean, since when have I ever been nervous and afraid? (If you’ve been reading for a while, you know I’m the first to admit when I’m feeling that way. Your membership to Oversharers Anonymous automatically gives you full access to my neuroses.)

I can’t wait to write about what is going on. Because I need to overshare. I need to justify and pontificate and basically do the Snoopy dance on top of the doghouse. It’s very hard for me to make decisions alone. Well, I’ll take that back — it’s imperative for me to make decisions alone, but when I do, it’s impossible not to share the results with the world.

Perhaps it is approval I seek, but what’s so wrong with feeling validated once in a while?

I was talking to someone recently, who asked me where I thought I’d be in five years. Dream big, he told me. Anything in the world, what would I want.

And my heart broke clear in half inside my chest. With tears in my eyes (and this was a phone conversation), I said I didn’t know — I thought I’d forgotten how to dream.

“When did we stop taking pictures
And when did you lose all your fight
And where did you sign
Give up and resign
I never gave up on you
No, I never gave up on you.”

A Girl Called Eddy, “People Used to Dream“

This was a turning point in my mind. There have been many turning points, hence my head spinning and all. But I remembered our friend Leanne, who passed away almost a year ago very suddenly, and immediately stopped feeling sorry for myself for having too many choices.

There was a girl who loved and lived and who didn’t pass up an chance to see or do anything and took every opportunity to meet/connect with every human in her path. Damn aneurysm. Her passing was just so wrong, we all knew it had to mean something. But, what?

I wrote on Leanne’s F-book wall recently. I know she’s not “there” but I wanted to share something with her. I’ve wanted so much to do something with my life to honor hers and the way she lived so boldly and didn’t miss out on life and love and friendship.

When she had passed, I had this random epiphany that there was this boy! whom I! needed to be with!

HAH.

OK, so clearly THAT wasn’t one of my more-successful plans in life. Whatev. At least I checked my ass into Weight Watchers and can pretty much have any OTHER boy I want. So there. *pfffbbbttt*

But I’ve still been looking for something to fill that hole in my heart. The “OK, so what if you were gone tomorrow — what will you regret not doing?”

I never had that answer.

Until it presented itself to me.

I would never have thought of it otherwise.

So I’ve been walking around with this guilty conscience for a while. But on Monday, it evaporated. And I started making Plans.

And while I still can’t see where I’ll be in five years, I dread my 40th year (gah) far less than I did two weeks ago when I had that discussion about my future. It’s a start.

In any case, I thanked Leanne for it.

She didn’t even live to see 30, so far be it from me to even be nuts about turning 35 this year.

And so what if this is my early midlife crisis? Haven’t I earned it?

Anyway, kids, big, big things are in motion right now. And like I “told” Leanne, she’ll always be with me. And, guys, so will you. That’s what’s giving me the courage to at least give you something interesting to read about (eventually)!

Valentine’s Day ended up being all right. I have no complaints, just un-Tweeted thoughts that I knew better than to publish.

So, since I can’t say things like, oh, “How could you waste your time on her when you could have had me?” and “Against my better judgment, I’m thinking about you,” we’ll just mosey along to other topics like all the nice things people messaged to me to get me through the day. 🙂

Anyway, speaking of nice things, yesterday was all about food. But before I launch into that, I want to say that I lost 5.2 pounds last week alone, catapulting me over my anticipated 50-pound-loss mark. Go, me!

I got my 50-pound award, which is basically a copper donut to go on my copper keychain that accompanies the silver donut I got at 25 pounds down. I also got a magnet for the fridge with a star and a “50” and a rainbow. Whee!

When I was asked to talk my milestone at my meeting, they were disappointed when I called it a fluke. I think the meeting leader was looking for some inspirational words for the rest of the group, but I said, “Look, I spent four days at a trade show, standing for 15 hours at a time. When I could find 20 minutes to shovel food in my mouth, I couldn’t exactly be picky. And don’t get me started on the booze I ingested.”

Actually, that’s a little bit of a stretch. My normal meeting leader (I had to go weigh in on a Wednesday instead of a Tuesday because I didn’t leave the office till after 10 p.m. on my regular meeting night) had told me, look, when your company is paying for it, get the fish. Be picky and rewrite the whole menu, if you want to. Don’t feel obligated to get the $20 hamburger (as I was captive in my hotel for a week) when you can spend six bucks more and get something that’s good for you.

He was SO right and I need to thank him. I always eat cheap, not healthily, when I travel. I see what everyone else is ordering and try to get an entree at that price or lower. And while I will probably always do that to some degree, I realized the ahi tuna appetizer at Sunset Sam’s cost the same as a chicken sandwich, and it was huge and filling and barely cost me any WW points. The chicken sammich would have cost me 10 points without condiments.

Of course, after yesterday, I’m sure I’ve found the five pounds I’d lost, as I went to Nagoya for lunch and Guapo’s for dinner.

Judging from my increasingly angry Tweets at Nagoya, I won’t be going back there. It’s tasty and cheap. If you don’t want service, this is a great place to eat.

I was going to go to Fontina Grill, which I love, love, love. But I don’t know. Sushi sounded better. The spicy mussel appetizer and spicy scallop roll as an entree made Goddess happy, just thinking about it.

So, I get seated, and am officially abandoned for 15 minutes. I had picked up a to-go menu so I figured out what I wanted. Then the server comes for my order, only to realize I don’t have a menu. She brings one back, but I said keep it — let me order so I can get on with my day.

I ordered diet coke without ice. As it was freezing and I was sitting in a corner with two windows, I said PLEASE no ice THREE TIMES.

So when she returned another 15 minutes later, guess what I got? ICE! *junk-punch*

Another 15 minutes later (yep, I was timing it), I got my food. Both the appetizer and the entree at once. Gee, thanks.

Lowest-possible tip, can has? Can has!

I think I had tweeted that “Nagoya” means “never gonna get served.” The food was really good, and totally cheap considering where it’s located (King Farm, Rockville). But since there were only two other tables occupied and I could SEE the chef making sushi 10 feet away, one wonders if they had to go to fucking Japan to GET my lunch.

So I ran into the same problem at Guapo’s, where I ordered soup and an entree, and everything came out at once. You know, I opted not to get the veggie fajitas because I didn’t want 15 plates in front of me. But yep, I had a bowl of soup, a side plate of soup fixins, and my spinach enchiladas. (And sangria glass, of course.) I know I was the only one to order a appetizer, but come on already — why punish me for it?

It was interesting how crowded the restaurant was. I go by there frequently and usually the two servers on duty are standing outside, waiting for paint to dry. Valentine’s Day probably singlehandedly served to boost the economy.

Anyway, as I messaged on Facebook, happy Valentine’s Day to all my boys … even the ones not smart enough to spend it with me. Especially them. If there’s a problem to having a harem (which, I’m finding, suits me JUST fine), it’s that there are no standouts waiting to swoop in and sweep you off your feet. You’d think at least one of them would be jealous that you’re out with someone else. 😉

Of course, you wonder whether the one you’re thinking about, is thinking about you, too. Or if you’re like me, you were thinking about three of them and got yourself to sleep knowing that one or more of them probably said someone else’s name last night, but thought of you instead.

A girl can dream, anyway. …

Masts

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

What a week. Seriously. A girl needs a day off, and mentally checking out for an hour here and there does not qualify for vacation.

We do have a holiday on Monday, although I am inclined to use it to catch up with the tasks for which I lacked the needed mental acuity this week.

Some friends want to see “He’s Just Not that Into You” this weekend. I already saw it and meant to blog about it, but yeah — that mental acuity thing wasn’t quite present enough. All I have to say is:

1. I am Gigi. I mean, I am all of them to some degree (Anna, *cough cough*), but no one can quite compare to my “But the SIGNS are there!” wailing except for Gigi. (And yes, I still think I will be the exception, too. Nyah.)

2. This movie should come with Continuing Education Units for women. Seeing all your mistakes on the silver screen for just $12 is pretty damn humbling.

I’m hoping that today isn’t another one in which I am physically present and not much else. So, allow me to look at this lovely photo of a little pathway to the ocean for inspiration, and don’t mind me if I escape somewhere in my head to think about all the things that have happened since then.

And maybe one of these days, I will get a REAL vacation instead of “hey, I have five minutes to go do something for me.”

In any event, I wish everyone a happy V.D. and, while I do have plans, I am not even going to pretend that my mind might not just be wandering around unsupervised somewhere else. …

Heart of Palm

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

The Tired has finally hit.

Lots of travel, lots of standing around, lots of rushing from here to there, lots of “deadline? what deadline?” and lots of emotional upheaval has left a bitch in an exhausted state.

And don’t talk to me about today’s nine-page to-do list. Just, don’t. Don’t wanna. Waaah!

Am going to go lose myself in our CMS. Because THAT cheers a bitch up.

The saying “when it rains, it pours” is proving to be an understatement in my life. Oh. My. God. How is it that life can get stuck in a groove for years, and then suddenly it’s upside-down, turned-around and scattered seven ways to Sunday?

Oh well. Say O HAI to the palm tree that was right outside my hotel balcony last week. I am posting it because I need to remind myself that while we all have the monumental stuff and the decisions we have to make — things that can drive us batshit as we turn them over and over in our heads — it’s the little moments of color and clarity along the way that keep us sane.

Disclaimer: Today’s relentless droning sponsored by Meetings, and not enough sleep.

So let us take a break from our regularly scheduled navel-gazing — OK, so I’m lying, as things are definitely interesting around here — to head-scratch and to, fine, navel-gaze.

Someone from my way-distant past popped up on Facebook this week. And I keep seeing his shining face in the “People You Know” tool. I’m a half-step away from blocking him so I don’t have to see him. Because I? Am not going to be the one to friend him. But I don’t think I’d deny the request if he sent it first.

I don’t think I’m having a sentimental moment. I mean, he’s the reason why my weapon of choice in friendships and relationships that are going nowhere is silence. Don’t wanna deal with it anymore? Then walk away. Ingenious.

Of course, that’s assuming people get the hint. And don’t try to “get you” for having better things to do with your time.

*cough*

Anyway, I wish I could just see what he’s up to. And to feel that, even though we’ll NEVER get back to being as close as we were, we’re not sworn enemies, either. It’s hard when someone you loved and respected gives up on you. I had to give up on someone, and I know all the ridiculous levels of retaliation basically boiled down to that. It just gets to a point where you can’t re-friend someone who’s done their level best to destroy you. The end.

But I didn’t destroy this one. The friendship, sure, I neglected. But I thought I was growing and trying new things and meeting new people. I didn’t feel I deserved the outright disapproval when it came to one person in particular. (See: “someone who’s done their level best to destroy you.”)

He saw it coming. He predicted it. He had to walk away. I’d thought HE was the crazy one at the time. And as has held true in most of my relationships, I was the one who turned out to be dead-wrong.

Anyway, not only do I want to see how he turned out, but I also want him to know that I’m OK, too. That no one, and especially not THAT one, could break-a my stride.

I also need for him to know that perhaps walking away from me might have been the stupidest thing he’s ever done, but it was just one more heartbreak over which I triumphed.

I’m at the point where we could be Facebook friends. Not real friends. There’s no love left. No anger, either. Just, nothing. OK, so I dream about him once in a while. This is the first time he’s actually surfaced after I thought about him.

In any event, I’m giving him another week till he learns the awesome privacy settings and starts blocking me on F-book. And that’s fine. I ain’t mad about that.

But I also cannot wait until all of our mutual friends start sending him my name as a friend suggestion. 😉 I know I will never hear about it, but I would bet my ass that it will happen. Repeatedly.

I just hope no one suggests to me that I be the one to make the add. It’s hard enough not clicking on “Add As Friend” without any prompting.

We were inseparable, once upon a time. Long ago and far away. And the divide is too wide to even think about bridging, mostly because even if I went to meet him halfway, I don’t think he’d be on the other side.

I do hope he’s happy. I have always silently been rooting for him. And despite the gulf between us, I believe he’s wished me the same. I just wish there were some way to let him know that the door might be chain-locked right now, but it’s still always open. …