Caterwauling

I don’t have any song lyrics today, mostly because I’m pulling my iTunes music library off my old ‘puter ONE GIG AT A TIME. With another 25 gigs to go, I should be up and running by this time next year. *facepalm*

I’m sure there’s a better way. But it’s not like I haven’t tried 30 OTHERS to get to this point. Have spent hundreds of dollars on this wire or that cord or this rope with which I will be hanging myself.

And sure, I could be asking for help. But given how much an Over-Extended Houseguest asks for help, I’m leery of bothering anyone for anything.

I had a FANTASTIC weekend here in South Floriduh. I was out all damn weekend. Went to my Weight Watchers meeting and even though I only lost a half-pound, it was enough to get me to minus 60, even.

It only took 10 months to the day. Imagine if I’d actually been fully committed to the program all that time. Anyway, I’m not complaining. Down four sizes and counting = happy Goddess. I still have a pudgy pork roast ass, but I love that it’s a smaller portion than at this time last year!

I forget what all I did Saturday. I did end up going to a singles event that evening. Before I left, the OEH told me she needs for me to wash her car. I was like, “Uh, right now?” And she said before the weekend is over for sure.

You know who washes MY car? Mother Nature. Why would I wash anyone else’s when mine looks like absolute shit?

Anyway, so I go to the singles event, which was supposed to be a boat ride but it got chartered and we ended up rolling out to a comedy club, where the organizer got us in for free. Blah blah two-drink minimum cakes, but still. FREE!

OMG, so I joined a few groups, one of which aims itself at the 35 to 50 set. This was that group. I figure, the last few people I dated and/or wanted to were in the 43-and-up neighborhood. (Waaaay up. *cough*) So, this is the group for me, right?

WRONG.

So, OK, at my table were six cougars, four sugar-daddy-wannabes and a partridge in a pear tree. (That would be me.) All the sugar-daddy-types (I use that term VERY loosely) were either interested only in me or were sharing their attention with the gal next to me, whose lips were Botoxed beyond her surgically enhanced boobs.

I can kind of see her profile like Alfred Hitchcock’s. Funny as fuck, I tell you.

Anyway, she was the only one I really liked out of the bunch. She looked at me and said, “Honey, what the HELL are you doing with this group? You’re too young!”

I said I was turning 35 and thought the 35-50 singles group would be up my alley. She said, “Sweetie, I’m the second-youngest here, and I’m 55!”

*gulp*

I had sort of figured that the group members themselves would bring more comedy than the show itself, and I wasn’t disappointed. 🙂

The waiter split up our bills all funky and put my salad and wine (for which he over-charged me) with some dude who was staring at my friend’s cartoonish lips. (She actually laughed when one of the comedians made fun of Florida women with Botox. Her face didn’t move, but I did hear her laughing!)

Anyway, about this guy on my bill, let me say SUGAR DADDY, MY ASS. He thought the bill was wrong and didn’t put in enough money. Well, he covered his expenses but didn’t tip. And meanwhile my part of the bill WAS wrong. And not only did I PAY ANYWAY, but I tipped for both of us.

Yeah? How to impress women, especially younger ones? UR DOIN IT RONG.

Boxtox Broad was actually really cool and whether or not I bother with that group again, I’m going to be in touch with her. She’s starting up a non-profit that I can really get on board with, and she needs volunteers. I figure, I’ll meet better-quality people that way AND do something to satiate my need to do something productive with my free time.

So on Sunday, I tried a new church. OMG, I LOVED IT. It’s a bit of a hike from my hacienda, but it’s EXACTLY like my old church in D.C. Very young, very hip, very just so totally awesome. I walked in and knew I’d found my spiritual home. Hallelujah!

I ran errands and came back to get ready for a dinner party. A friend had invited me out to this event, and I met a TON of really nice people at a very hip restaurant just off the beaten path. Very nice night.

And did I mention my friend picked up the tab for all of us? There are real men in this world, ladies. They’re all married, but still. There’s hope yet.

Now, I told you about the OEH asking me to wash her car. So as I was getting ready for this dinner event, she appeared in my doorway to COMPLAIN that I didn’t wash her car. I’m like, when the fuck have I been home this weekend?

She let me know that she can’t do it herself; like OK, who’s running MY errands?

Anyway, “24” is on. Off to We Love D.C. to snark on the next hour of Jack’s tortured life. Come join us!

It’s funny how you can be going along in your life and then *BAM*, some unexpected emotions knock the wind out of your sails and drag you into a rip-current and then the tide slams you onto the shore.

And I’m sitting here, seeing Tweety Birds flying around my head, wondering, “What the hell just happened?”

Even when I lived in D.C., there was always an element of, “Gotta miss out on yet another social event. Gotta work.” But I really wasn’t *too* resentful. (Well, not unless you were reading my Twitter feed!) I liked my job and wanted to excel at it. I just did so at the expense of everything else.

I work fewer hours now. I don’t have tangible evidence, for the most part, of how I’ve spent my days. There was something satisfying for my workload being quantifiable, back at the Ranch. But that was at the expense of creative time, in which I am immersed now.

But my brain is refusing to give me the stuff that WILL quantify all this quality time with my imagination. And it’s driving me slightly nuts, because my life revolves around my career. If that isn’t scratching whatever itches I have (heh), then what will?

“Mercy, what I won’t give
To have the things that mean the most
Not to mean the things I miss
Unforgiving the choice still is
The language or the kiss.”

— Indigo Girls, “Language or the Kiss”

I’m just whining because I missed the social event of the year. (Next to my goodbye party from the Ranch, of course. Because that rocked.) And as I was telling my friend at my new office, I know I chose to leave D.C. of my own free will. I knew that I was giving up a whole bunch of stuff in search of bettering my career and, ultimately, myself. I don’t regret that.

But where a girl’s heart crumples is when her one of a rare handful of “Could’ve Beens” happens and she’s not there for it. And what this really does is trigger all the other “ellipses” situations, as I like to call them. The stuff she doesn’t think about unless she’s feeling melancholy enough to drag them out of the hope chest and start examining things better left alone for now. …

Speaking of rooting around in boxes and suitcases, mental or otherwise, I did a lot of traveling during the past five years. Especially in recent years, I’ve relished getting away from the Over-Extended Houseguest. I don’t care how grueling the work is at the destination site — sign my ass up.

That was also the only way I could burn off some vacation days, by tacking one or two on to the end of a work adventure.

So it’s weird to be taking a pass on the next normally scheduled trip. Not only will I be missing the friends whom I am absolutely DYING to see (that ain’t hyperbole, folks), but I’m not able to escape the OEH even for just a couple of days.

This was going to be the year that I took care of myself. And don’t get me wrong — I did a bang-up job on that one. 🙂 But had I stayed at the Ranch, this was going to be the year I took a real, bona fide vacation. Definitely a cruise with the girls, and either a birthday or a Christmas getaway to New Orleans.

And now I’m new all over again and I don’t want to ask for any time off just yet. Well, not until I produce something creative that shows that I’m worth my paycheck. I know I’m worth it — the evidence just hasn’t become, well, evident yet.

In other news, my singles event got canceled for tomorrow. Well, it actually got transferred from a boat adventure to a comedy night. Which, um, I want to meet and talk to people; not sit in a dark room staring at some comedian I’ve never heard of. Of course, it could be a blessing if everyone is boring. 🙂

I don’t know. Maybe I’ll check out the local film festival instead. Next weekend brings a music festival. Last week brought a craft and food festival. What a festive little city I’ve come to inhabit. …

I do actually have a lot of other plans this weekend. Some are with people! My age! Involving a nice restaurant and adult conversation! Some of whom I hope will become friends eventually.

Maybe that’s why I’ve got a bug up my butt. It takes me SO LONG to get close to people. I mean, I’m spewing cognitive dysentery all over this blog and every social-media site known to man. But everyone’s at arm’s length that way. My secrets are so very safe on this side of the screen. Those who’ve seen the “gag reel” are few and far between, and cherished accordingly.

It took me so many years to cultivate the few friendships I really have, and to have to invest all that time again to harvest a couple more, it’s exhausting just to consider.

Oh well. If it don’t fit, don’t force it, right? It will come in time. I just don’t dig surface-level relationships. I don’t want to hang with people just for the sake of doing so, although I guess that’s what you have to do when you’re the new kid on the block.

And this is where I’m driving myself crazy. I know good things come in time. I know the universe has our backs. I know for a fact that you get paid back three times as much for everything that was unceremoniously taken away from you.

So, really, what’s the rush and, more importantly, why the hurt over the unintended (and, albeit small) consequences of choices that, ultimately, were the right ones?

“Oh, I knew back then
It was a calling that said,
‘If joy, then pain’
The sound of the voice these years later
Is still the same.”

I find that when I have a lot to say and no other way of expressing it, I post a lot of music. Forgive me — it’s better than listening to my whining. It’s for your own good! 🙂

“And the river seems dreamlike
In the daytime
And someone keeps thinking
In my sleep

Of fast
Running rivers
Of choice and chance
And time stops here
And it seems as if time
Stops here on the delta
While they dance
While they dance …”

— “Delta,” Crosby, Stills & Nash

I wasted the evening in a neighboring beach town because I didn’t feel like coming home. I never come straight home anymore. I usually go park my butt on the sand, or else I hoof around in the shallow end of the ocean for a while to get some exercise.

I seriously have a bad case of flat white-girl booty so I’m trying to replace the fat with muscle there. So far I keep replacing the fat WITH fat, but leave me alone in my illusion, mmmkay?

I hear that there’s an intimate gathering of my old Ranch peeps tonight as they prepare to unleash another brilliant mind into the wild unknown. I seriously, seriously would have booked a plane ticket, had I known in advance.

It would have surely beat the alternative, which I can only describe as so much ear-fucking, a girl needs a morning-after pill to rid herself of the parasite. (Not from any of MY people, of course. And not even the OEH. It’s a long story. But then again, aren’t they all?)

Anyway, I spent time in the next beach town over, and I just dragged myself home to find the OEH is not home. Sweet! She usually has the sixth sense that I’m home and manages to arrive within 30 seconds of me, so I won’t get too happy. But I am no dummy and know to count my blessings as I get them.

I was marveling with a friend today that the improved financial situation on my part means I can actually go to the store! When I need something! And buy it! I’m not doing anything wild here, just actually getting shit I’ve been saving up for, for years … without saving up!

I mean, to think that I could actually have booked a plane ticket and rented a car without batting (too much) of an eye? I’ve NEVER had that feeling before. (Of course, I’d have had to sweet-talk Goddess Sabre into letting me crash on her comfy blue microfiber couch; I’m not rich, bitches!)

I’m also spending inordinate amounts of time at the mall, trying to find clothes that fit. Which is weird and hard but terribly exciting for me, as I am trying things on with shape! and color! and not in the biggest size I can find!

I’ve never been one to spend much money on clothing so I’m just picking up the basics on sale till I hit my dream size, whatever that is and WHENEVER it happens. I’m not rushing it anymore, although I should since I’m not getting any younger.

But meh, time is different in Florida. In D.C., life was just rush-rush-rush — it was all about getting from point A to B to C without getting killed on the highways in between. Here, not so much. Beach time is mandatory. Spending time indoors seems wasteful when that giant orb! In the sky! That I’ve never seen before! is shining.

Nature beckons, you know? It begs you to admire it. It looks different every day, if you observe it often enough. I take the same photos every time I go to the beach and they all look different to me. I don’t want to miss out on life anymore.

I don’t have any real regrets (except giving up my beloved apartment in D.C. to get a 2BR in the ‘burbs so I could house the Over-Extended Houseguest. I didn’t resent it at the time because it’s what I HAD to do. I resent it now because I truly thought it wouldn’t turn out this way). But they’ve all led me here.

Starting a new job makes you come to terms with your old ones. I don’t have much to say about the last one other than that I loved it but it was also time to go. Recently, I typed with another friend who escaped before me, and we marvel at how we have LIVES now. Which we couldn’t back then. And now we appreciate our wings more than anyone else we know.

I was specifically thinking about two jobs ago, the Veggie Patch. How every new idea had to be protected with a bulletproof vest, because it wouldn’t live through people shooting it down. Categorical refusal of anything innovative. Cripes. And yet, that place refuses to fall. I wish they could see me now, in Idea Land. After the 6 billion ideas I gave them on my embarrassing salary, the universe is paying me back in full and then some. *thbbbppptttt*

And that’s how I look at it. Sweat equity in one place is what gets you ahead in another place. All those years of shitty jobs and shitty friends simply prepare you for bigger and better opportunities and individuals.

Don’t get me wrong — I’ve had great folks enter my life along the way and I’ll cherish them forever. But for all those years of having to deal with this or that dumbfuck, I’ve been handed five magnificent others to balance out each one who did me wrong.

So, even though I’m not nice to the OEH (but not mean enough to change the locks right now. Which I’ve thought about. Hard), I figure that my sweat (or tears in this scenario) will garner me someone to live with whom I love and can’t wait to see when I come home.

It seems far away from now, since I clearly have to resolve THIS shit first. But the universe has given me more miracles than I ever dreamed possible. And I get a feeling that the good times haven’t truly even BEGUN to roll just yet. …

Beach club

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

“You were from the North, I was from the South
We were from opposite places, different towns
But I knew it was good and you knew it was, too
So we moved together like a ball and chain
Minds becoming two halves of the same
It was real, but in shadows it grew

‘Cause you’ve got a secret don’t ya babe?

I would’ve shouted loud and broken through
I would’ve given it all to belong to you
But there were different plans, different rules
You said, ‘Where I’m from, there is a lock and key
If you’d be so kind as to follow me
I will show you the way to the rest of my sins’

‘Cause you’ve got a secret don’t ya babe?
Yeah you, you got a secret don’t ya babe?
And I should know
Yeah I should know

So this room was damp where your sins laid
There was that smell in the air of an old place
That hadn’t seen much daylight in years
And you threw me down, said, ‘If ya don’t mind
I’m gonna leave you here until night time
Then we can do what we want my baby, out of the spotlight.’

‘Cause you’ve got a secret don’t ya babe?
Yeah you, you got a secret don’t ya babe?
And I should know
Yeah I should know
For I’m your secret aren’t I babe?
Yeah I’m your secret aren’t I babe?
Aren’t I babe?”

— Missy Higgins, “Secret”

My playground

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Busy, busy week. Am trying to take the route of, “If you don’t have something nice to say” and simply not blogging. But, shit, I’d NEVER blog if I could only say nice things!

In a nutshell, the OEH^TM is mad that I tell my friends (HAI Internet) about her when I should be asking my peeps for help in getting her a job. Five seconds later, she informed me that her friends cannot believe how MEAN I am to her. I replied with, “My friends can’t believe what a FREELOADER you are. I win.”

One friend told me that even if I do nothing else for her for the rest of my life, I’ve done enough. Which she just doesn’t get.

I’ve made it clear, I think, that we ain’t friends no more. She texted me last night to ask to go to dinner. Which I deleted/ignored. I know that was because there’s no food in the house and she is out of money.

And I’m sure I’m a horrible person for it, but instead I treated a colleague, who’s in the process of moving, to lunch today. A nice lunch, too. 🙂 I just wanted to do something nice for someone who could use a random act of kindness; I just find it hard to do it for the person who’s had free rent on my dime for almost two years now.

There’s more to tell, but I’m going to bed soon and I don’t want to try to fall asleep with any more rage than I normally fall asleep with.

Work’s been interesting. Whereas I had gotten into a groove with the old job of doing the same thing every day (across 14 hours each day. *cough*), each day is different here. Have spent the whole week in brainstorming mode. Which is so cool. I told my boss my brain is starting to work again, and I thanked him.

I’m having fun because I’ve been in on some very high-level strategy discussions. He’s very open about showing us how he does business and, in essence, How To Get Shit Done. It’s fucking fantastic. I have so much to learn, but the “war room” where we all sit together all day is a top-notch classroom.

The ocean is still my only friend outside of work. I find myself getting angry sometimes about that. I don’t miss D.C. all that much right now — I know I’ve only been gone a month. (And time seems to tick by very differently down here.)

I still see all the friends Twittering about happy hours and dinners and parties and such. And if I were still in D.C., I would be missing out on all of it anyway because of work. So, really, nothing has changed. But where I get annoyed is that I have more free time now. I *could* go out to events now.

If I had one wish (other than the OEH moving out), it would be to have the friends I had “up north” and the free time I have “down south” at the same time.

I joined a few singles’ groups. Have an event on Saturday. Whee. I went to another event the other day and BOY was that fun. Not. I realize that maybe I shouldn’t have joined the “35-50” singles group here at 34 years and 11 months. But I figured, hey, I’ve already penetrated the over-50 set (or, maybe vice-versa is more appropriate. *cough*). But shit, the event attracted the upper end of that group (and beyond).

It was at a chi-chi place on the Avenue, so maybe that was the problem. The next event is an evening cruise so here’s to hoping that the younger folk come out for it. I don’t care if I *meet* someone at one of these things; I’d be happy to make a friend so that I don’t have to be a stranger in a strange land for the indefinite future.

I’m also going to check out another new church this weekend. I skipped services last week; I got sick of everyone praying for money at communion time. Seriously. I really like the pastor but unless I plan to arrive late every week, I need another alternative.

Last week, I worshiped at the altar of the Apple Store. I *heart* my Time Capsule and the fact that I can use my MacBook from my balcony. (For which I finally bought furniture.) Let’s face it, church is cheaper. 🙂

Someone at work turned me on to a church that holds its services outdoors. And since it has rained exactly twice in the 30 days I’ve lived here in South Floriduh, me likee that idea.

Anyway, the good news around these parts is that I bought a new bathing suit this week. Four sizes smaller than the one I bought at this time last year.

Sure, my pudgy butt isn’t losing any weight (sweets appear in the corporate kitchen EVERY DAY. And I am WEAK, people), but my beach walks have been keeping the junk in the trunk at reasonable trash-heap levels.

I’m not sure when I’ll break in the new suit, given that I just roll up my jeans and they get soaked on every walk. But it’s washed and waiting. And with any luck, I’ll get my sweet tooth extracted (I’m between insurances and that tooth BROKE today. Yay) and be down ANOTHER four sizes by this time next year!

Run to the water, and find me there

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

A couple of young girls went
Sailing down A1A
Into the arms of Florida
Sailing down a highway
Singing their heads off
Protected by the holy ghosts
Flying in the ocean
Driving with their eyes closed

The night wants to kiss you deep
And be on his way
Pretend he don’t know you the very next day
Isn’t it hard sometimes
Isn’t it lonely?
How I still hang around here
And there’s nothing to hold me

You slide down into the seat
From 12 hours on your feet
And get the tide to wash you away
For thousands and thousands of days
And someone you never meet
Signs a check you get every week
You try and you still can’t forget
All the strangers that you have met

The night never owed you nothing anyway
Makes promises that he never intends to keep every day
Isn’t it hard sometimes
Isn’t it lonely?
How I still hang around here
And there’s nothing to hold me

Every time, every year
The travelers come and go
You see them landing with their pale wings
And flying back to the snow
And the summer comes marching in
With his heavy boots on
Kicking along the blacktop
Sidewalks of A1A
The young girls in their bare feet
Cigarettes smoking
Looking every which way
Wishing and hoping

And you want the night just to let you sleep
And be on his way
Wrap you up in some cool sheets
And have nothing to say

Isn’t hard sometimes
Isn’t it lonely?
How I still hang around here
And there’s nothing to hold me.”

Patty Griffin, “Florida”

No tea parties for me; I’m where I need to be

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

A photographer, I am not. All you have to do is look at any of my cat photos on Flickr to realize that.

And yet, I live in a gorgeous place that photographs beautifully. It’s hard to believe that every single photo I’ve taken here has been on a cameraphone. Any moron who can point and shoot can have a breathtakingly spectacular photo album.

The ocean seems to be my only friend right now. I’m OK with that — its presence is tremendous. It’s everywhere, and it’s there waiting for me when I leave work or escape from the house or need a moment of clarity in between errands. It’s always close by and it welcomes me when I’m moved to drop by for a visit.

I’ve been eating for crap since I left the old job a month ago. (It’s been a month already? Feels like a lifetime ago.) But I walk on the beach several times a week, and it helps me to maintain my weight and maybe even overcome the metric buttload of sweets that always find their way into the company kitchen (and, in turn, onto my hips.)

I met with my boss today. Let me rephrase, we met for a couple of smokes at our favorite set of Adirondack chairs that are down the street and around the corner from our world headquarters. (*happy sigh*) No more conference rooms, no more pantyhose, no more worrying that my attire doesn’t pass the test. It’s just me, in my cute flip-flops and whatever limited supply of summer clothes I’ve managed to pull together for the day.

I only have about two months’ worth of summer clothes — that’s all I needed in D.C. Now that’s it’s summer 10 months out of the year, I’ve got some shopping to do. I got my first pay today — I almost passed out and fell over dead. Told my boss I felt like I should give him a thank-you card for it. He said he sees big things for me and has big plans to rely on me as a “thought leader” when I get into the swing of things.

I had once told him, probably not two days ago — time escapes me down here — that I was worried about going from a superstar who could supposedly do no wrong at the old ranch, to someone new and unproven and maybe who left her mojo back in D.C. He was the one who said that I simply traded jerseys — I was with the Mets; now I’ve joined the Yankees. I still know how to play ball, right?

I realized something today, and it’s that I have become the old version of myself. But with new features. It’s like how I had to use PCs for my entire working life but I was always a Mac girl and now I have two Macs. The platform is familiar, and it’s easy to use and it feels like home. But the operating system has been improved thousandfold. It was always a fabulous system, and it’s gone through a lot of improvements along the way while I wasn’t looking.

Because I’m a geek and pal around with other smarty pantses, we all said I was rebooting my hard drive with this move. Nuking and paving and overwriting and reinstalling. I have returned to my roots as relaxed and unafraid. I’m rediscovering my faith and confidence that things are happening as they should and that I will turn out just fine.

I think of all the friends I’ve made during the past (too many) years, who actually liked the uptight version of me. Don’t get me wrong — I still find myself falling into old thought patterns. But then I remember how awesome it is to be all Zen Goddess-like, and I can return to that state pretty quickly. Mind over matter, people. It’s easy to let yourself fall in love with life when you realize that it actually is going in your favor overall.

Oh, if all those friends could see me now. … Imagine all the awesomeness that they never got to see because it had all but evaporated. Hallelujah for recapturing your spirit by buying back your soul.

Goddess, pleased to make your re-acquaintance. You’ve been missed. Hope you’re enjoying the sunshine and will stick around to bask in it for a long time to come.

Burst of happy

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I can’t believe I got this shot on my iPhone. I find that most of my best shots come from that thing. All hail the almighty Apple. *bows*

Don’t have a lot to say today. Have mostly been either at work or trying to come up with ideas for it. Also have been fighting with our content management system; once I learn that thing, it will be cake. Cake, I tell you, cake.

Speaking of cake (and Easter candy in general), I’ve eaten my weight in it these past few days. All hail the faulty thyroid for actually registering a weight LOSS after all that sinful eating. Everybody brings so much junk into the office, and in a space that’s about the size of my apartment, it’s very hard to get away from temptation.

I stuck with my Saturday morning Weight Watchers meeting. It’s me and 37 Brooklyn Jews in their octogenarian years. But I kind of had fun this time around; I may give this date and time slot a shot. We have a lot of favorite delis and restaurants in common. 🙂

But I was mostly endeared when they all wished me a “Happy Eastah.” Seriously, cute as friggin’ buttons, they were. I miss New York more than I miss D.C. right now.

On the subject of travel, I am kind of bummed these days; a trip I normally take each May probably won’t happen. I’m getting my wish to work on intensive projects instead of having the same schedule every day. And we’re diving headfirst into “holy mother of God, how the fuq are we going to do all this in that short of a time period?” land. But it’s all in God’s hands, you know? If I’m meant to go, the production schedule will get bumped by a week or two. I ain’t mad and I ain’t losing sleep. I have enough to worry about otherwise.

I’ll spare you the “otherwise.” But if the term OEH^TM (Over-Extended Houseguest) comes to mind … ding-ding-ding you win a prize!

Anyway, I’m posting a happy beach photo today because the storm clouds are looming and, for as desperately as I need a car wash, I just don’t wanna have my parade rained on right now. Other than that one blip on the radar (see previous graf), I’m happy to say that life is as full of sunshine and rainbows as it’s ever been, and I don’t take that for granted. Not one bit.

Instead of bitching to high hell about the lost potential of my day, I would rather share something that makes me happy.

Walking on the beach, and maybe even going in the water, even if it’s only knee-deep. And then licking your lips and tasting the salt even though you would never actually dare to get your face or hair wet.

“In these words I create you
Into someone who will always come back
Once you’ve closed the door
Into someone who will never refuse
When I ask for more
But if I think I can own you
with some lavender prose
Or a violet song
I am wrong
And if I think I can have you
With a salty kiss
Or a sultry dance
Well I can’t.”

— Vanessa Daou, “Make You Love”

Sure, finding sand in your buttcrack later on in the day is a little disconcerting. But whereas it’s so much fun to kiss folks who’ve just ingested coffee or olive oil or something else unique to my tastes, a girl realizes she can’t wait to find her next victim conquest and see what it’s like to kiss someone who’s spent some time near the salt water.

Did I mention that I signed up for a singles cruise? A girl’s gotta have goals, and a way of getting to them. Even if she’s *eyerolling* at the whole singles scene of it all. …

Was just wondering whether, if you wish hard enough for someone to call, that they actually would. And that concludes Chapter One of “Goddess’ Guide to Passive-Aggressiveness.” 🙂

“There’s a place on your mouth
That I was born to kiss
And a place there beside you
That doesn’t exist.”

— Tara MacLean, “Over and Out”

Speaking of passive-aggressive, sent the Over-Extended Houseguest a nastygram yesterday. It was wrong on my part to say, “Here are my plans for Easter if you want to tag along.” And then follow it up with three paragraphs’ worth of “this is why I’m angry.” The response was a simple, “Have a nice day.” And boy did that piss me off more.

I’m not saying my approach was flawless. But I said if not getting a job or leaving the house is being caused by a bigger issue, I need to know that. Because right now I’m seeing things for what they are and not understanding why things have to be this way. And that’s what makes me resentful and loath to comply with any of the mounting requests to play chauffeur, babysitter or whatever the hell else seems to be expected of me.

I also noted that I have roommate possibilities. Not that I want a roommate. I really don’t. But a temporary houseguest who is willing to pay till something better comes along? I shouldn’t have to give that up; it should be my right to be able to offer it as an option.

Have a nice day. *thbbbppppttttt*

I will thank you very much. Reminds me of someone who I always ask how they’re doing and they tell me in great detail that answer. And then the conversation stops. One of these days, I’m going to interject with an, “I’m SUPER, thanks for asking!”

Anyway, am just sitting here at the ‘puter, wearing my prescription sunglasses, since the sun is always in my eyes in the a.m. here, no matter how tightly I try to close the vertical blinds. Am also wasting time before geriatric Weight Watchers meeting — I didn’t manage to get out to the meeting I wanted this week (Thursday). It was a pretty intense week, so I headed to the shore that night to freeze my ass off have some time to myself.

It actually worked out well because one of my beloveds in D.C. gave me a call, and we had a marathon gossip session. I like it that my friends look toward me as an influence, although I probably shouldn’t be proud that the “shameless hussy” part of the story is the only thing that sticks. Oh well. 🙂 Like I told my friend, it’s all about having a story to tell. Even if you actually can’t tell a soul the details of what and whom and everything in between!

To go to WW, or not to go? I know there ain’t gonna be good news on the scale front, that’s for sure. O HAI cupcake for dinner last night. It was my favorite — chocolate icing on white batter. (I’m sure there’s a metaphor or a joke in there somewhere.)

I was also just lamenting the fact that I don’t get to do my Saturday morning runs to Balducci’s anymore, since those are only based in D.C. and N.Y. *cry* Florida has nothing resembling it.

I don’t know what I’m going to do for my birthday next month — I ALWAYS buy myself a small strawberry cake from Balducci’s. (Methinks it’s a cupcake year instead, unless some nice person wants to visit during Memorial Day weekend and bring me one. …) :9