Caterwauling

A better day

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Big Russian Nesting Doll Project in full force at La Oficina. I have been working fiendishly all weekend; the only time not spent in the office has been to sleep, and there hasn’t been a hell of a lot of THAT going on in my boudoir this week.

We’ll be disappearing into a television studio for the next two solid weeks. Which is cool. I managed to pass off my daily pain-in-the-ass newsletter to the previous editor. I will enjoy not having to work on that stupid thing when I come home like I usually do. Not that I won’t be plenty busy with other stuff. I’ve said it before and I’ll type it again — my limits are VERY familiar territory, and I’m a half-step past them already.

We always wish for more time. More time to do more work, unfortunately. And even if we had it, I suspect we’d still be feeling like we’re behind the 8-ball. Or about to be crushed by a giant one. Whichever. I am already planning on being on my deathbed, wishing I’d experienced more of life. Pretty much resigned to it, really, right now.

Just got home from the office and realized I forgot to do something. Which I am perfectly (technologically) capable of doing right now. But I need some serious shut-eye to get rid of some serious baggy-eye. Last time I was in the studio, it was for half-days and they were absolutely exhausting. These are going to be full-days-plus. Again, cool shit is going on here in Russian Nesting Doll world, but BOY do we have a lot of shit to shovel into a five-pound bag.

I flipped out on the Over-Extended Houseguest for bugging me about getting the mail, buying her a newspaper and other assorted shit like buying cat litter. I mean, I leave you cash for this shit. You have nothing BUT free time. When the FUCK do I have five minutes to rub together to do your bidding? GAH. That I found 30 seconds to run to Tar-zhay today to procure T.P. for my bumhole was a fucking gold-star achievement. (Maybe I wouldn’t NEED T.P. so often if someone else in the house would buy their own and not steal it from my powder room. …) And the only reason why I went there was because there is a coffee shop next door. (Which I just learned is closed on Sundays for the summer. *headslam*)

Anyway, that’s the scoop here. In other words, business as usual!

Lounging

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Having a stressful moment (or 40) so I’m looking toward a photo from Monday that reminds me of the relaxation I experienced for a few minutes, even though I was terribly stressed out when I took the photo, too.

I’m not ready to rub the bottle and ask the genie to do a Command-Z on my life, but the weight of the world feels heavier than it used to.

All I have to say right now is that Blip.fm is going to be the source of my financial downfall. Sure, it’s a free service, but I’ve bought more music in the last week than I have in the past year.

“I tried reality
But it kept avoiding me
The world around
Melting into nothing
And all the people
Standing still
And all the people
Standing still

— Echostream, “One Last Cigarette”

Private beach

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I assumed I’d go a little bit nuts about turning 35, since I have gone nuts on every single birthday since, well, maybe 22.

Every year, I end up listing out goals that I never really accomplish. And then I look around and realize how far I am from where I want to be.

Mind you, I never have an *actual* definition of where I should be (i.e., I’d like to be married, but I’m also fine on my own right now; maybe I should have a kid before the egg farm explodes, but I don’t really like kids all that much anyway). But, you know, there’s always that “oh, look, another year gone by and what do you have to show for it” business.

Not this year.

I’ll leave everyone in their illusion that I’m overjoyed to be alive and that everything is perfect. Really. I’d rather everyone be happy for me than sorry. I mean, life has its high points. The only real difference between now and “the life before” is that I get a little more sun. And sun makes me happy and healthy. And at times like this, you take what you can get.

I did get away for the weekend — well, one night, really — at the Vero Beach Hotel & Spa. I needed to deposit a check and the closest branch of my bank is up there. And then I saw a great deal on Travelzoo for Memorial Day, and voila! A plan was hatched.

The town itself was crap. People were just rude. I went into four different restaurants before someone greeted and seated me. Seriously. And I’m no shrinking violet — I was ready to go into the kitchen and make my own goddamned salad.

There’s this beach shop that I tried to go into before I checked into the hotel on Sunday. The saleswoman purposely ignored me for five solid minutes as I tried to buy a cute hat that was, admittedly, only $15 while she tried to sell someone a $100 pair of jeans. I left that stupid hat on the desk and flounced out.

I did go back Monday to buy my damn hat. It was too cute to pass up and it *was* my birthday souvenir. The same old bag must have taken her Valium — either that or she recognized me — and announced how she’s here to help and can’t wait to help me.

Then she followed me around and tried to sell me on buying Not Your Daughter’s Jeans. Ugh. All right, remind me that I’m 35 AND child-free AND insinuate that I should be wearing “mommy jeans.” Cunt!

All I need to do is drop one size to weigh what I did at my lowest point in college. So nyah, whore. *thbbbpppttt*

I finally ditched her, found the hat and bought it from someone else.

So anyway, the stay at the hotel was exquisite. I probably worked for five or six out of the 20 hours that I was there. (*mumble*) But I did play on the beach and hang out at the pool and get as tan as I could in the short amount of time that the sun was out during this wacky-weather weekend. And the fact that men actually look at me now (in a bathing suit. Gah, the horror) does not escape me, either. Weird, but wonderful.

Speaking of cute boys, while I was working in my gorgeous room on Sunday night, the concierge came to the door with a big fat bottle of Pinot Noir (my favorite), a hunk of dark chocolate (to eat; no, not a man) and a birthday card, courtesy of the hotel. That was so awesome — I will DEFINITELY recommend the Vero resort to anyone celebrating a special occasion … or just simply if you’re trying to escape the ordinary mediocrity that you get everywhere else.

I won’t go into the work hijinx when all the systems borked at once, a half-hour before I went live with a project yesterday. And how I MADE the deadline, not without bothering seven different people in three different time zones. And how DRUNK I GOT while freebasing wine during the hell-sent hootenanny. Wine for breakfast, yum!

Anyway, I guess it helped to be so busy on my birthday that I had no time to wallow, reflect or worry. I’m where I am supposed to be. I’m as happy as I can be for never really having known what happiness is.

I have a few bucks in my pocket to travel and treat myself once in a while. I am an hour or two’s drive away from some of the prettiest beaches in the world … and a five minute’s drive away from one that (I think) is even nicer than the private resort where I just stayed.

So, if happiness is defined as being “not totally miserable,” then I’m happy.

And as for “where I’m not and where I hope to be,” I’ll tell ya, 34 was such a good year that if it continues on the path it’s on, I’ll be OK. That’s the real reason why I want to turn 34 again … not that I’m afraid of 35, but when you’re on a winning streak, there’s no sense starting to bet on red when black has worked for you all along!

Birthday cupcake

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

… as long as it comes from Passion for Pastry in Boca Raton. OM NOM NOM NOM.

Spent a marathon day shopping for my favorite person … moi. Got clothes, mostly. Also picked up a delightful bottle of Montepulciano for practically a song. Some crazy specialty market was selling it for half-off, which knocked off my little froggy socks. Hey, I ain’t complaining — I snatched that bitch up and uttered my three favorite words: “Happy Birthday, Goddess!”

The real birthday isn’t until Memorial Day. But as is the usual, the only gift I got this year was from Sephora (a package of lip glosses). So, I always make up for it in the days before and after the high holy holiday that commemorates my birth.

I remember when my friend A. and I used to fuck off from work for hours at a time (to go shopping, natch. We deserved it!). In the entire month leading up to her birthday and definitely the next three or four weeks after it, she would happily pick up something in a store and proclaim, “Happy birthday, A!” to justify the purchase. So, I’m just carrying on our blessed tradition. 🙂

The cupcake was Teh Awesomesauce. The “cheese” and “lettuce” are fondant; the ketchup and mayo (not pictured) are icing (of course) and the “burger” seems to be baked icing. Whatever … it’s fucking paradise in a fluted cup to me.

I would normally have grabbed a strawberry cake from Balducci’s in Bethesda, Md., but it’s a year of totally new traditions. So, this is DEFINITELY one that I am keeping!

It’s been monsooning here in South Floriduh — I’m driving up to the Treasure Coast tomorrow to a desolate resort to usher in my 35th (*gulp*) year with said Montepulciano. I just hope it doesn’t pour the whole time, as that would be a waste of a four-star resort at pauper’s prices (hence why I can afford it).

I will be taking some work with me, which isn’t my idea of a vacation but it’s pretty easy stuff … typically better done drunk anyway. 😉 But then again, isn’t EVERYTHING better done with a bottle of wine and nothing but cupcake in your belleh?

‘Sailing … takes me away’

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

What is that I see … the Fail Whale swimming up the Intracoastal? *facepalm* *headslam* *implosion*

Once again, genius has locked herself out of La Oficina. But unlike last time, when I had my cell phone, today all I had were my keys … AND NOT MY BUILDING ACCESS CARD. Whee!

Left behind were such trivial things as my wallet, a $500 iPod, a $600 iPhone, a $3,000 laptop and my Weight Watchers member card. And my smokes. Can’t forget those. At least I had hidden five bucks in the car for such an emergency!

Since I haven’t gone to WW in three weeks and won’t be able to go for the next three weeks … and I think I might have actually lost a pound over the past fucking month and want it recorded! … well all I have to say is, “Yeah … no.”

I took a walk along the shore since, well, it’s FREE and I obviously couldn’t afford to go out like I was planning to tonight. And wouldn’t you know it … the most GORGEOUS rainbow was shining over the ocean. Go to reach for camera … oh, wait … THAT’S AT THE OFFICE, TOO.

Am hoping the building is accessible tomorrow. It typically is on Saturdays, although I don’t know the holiday weekend policy. If it’s locked up tight, well, somebody isn’t spending her birthday/Memorial Day at the hotel she paid for without, oh, a credit card for incidentals and an ID to get past the front desk.

*snort*

That WOULD be a rather appropriate way to start off a new year, wouldn’t it? This IS me we’re talking about here!

Anyone have anything happy to report? Because these days, I sure as fuck don’t.

Or, more appropriately, what’s in your shopping cart?

In mine today we found four boxes of 100-calorie cookies and salty snacks. Plus one box of Tampax.

What does THAT say? That the bitch at the checkout counter wasn’t the one ringing it up, but instead the one paying for it all. 🙂

Leave my diet Rice Krispie treats and Cheez-Its alone and nobody gets hurt. …

Goodnight, Sun

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Spent the day with a group of colleagues. It was a working session, although I mostly shot the shit with the talent and worked on my newsletter.

We’re pretty much booked every single day (weekends included) now through June 18, whereupon I plan to hop on a plane and meet with my NEXT group of talent in another Southern state in another time zone.

Exhausting, yes. But terribly exciting. Not this part, of course — the working part of it sucks. 🙂 But the magic we’re working to create? Fucking amazing, what I have at my fingertips here.

The “Russian” has become a rather welcome fixture at La Oficina. Today we had a really good discussion about what got him from where he was to our office, and man does it put a lot of things in perspective for me.

It’s exactly what I needed to get my own energy/enthusiasm back in full force. Just “getting” people makes such a difference to me. I don’t do well with unknown entities or even enigmas. Now that we finally understand where on the doll that he himself has been touched, we can really move forward.

He said something off-topic and, I think, rather brilliant today. He suggested that we each have that one true soulmate in this world, and that we DO run into them.

But we may be at different levels of readiness … so much so that even though our paths cross and we even connect on some level, we may keep on going and find another “true love,” but maybe it might not be the perfect love whom we “could” have had if it were the right place, right time for both parties.

He said what about all the times that you meet someone and one or both of you is in a relationship/marriage already. Or what about when you’re both 5 years old and you know that person is special, but you’re not at any level of consciousness/readiness to identify that this is the person with whom you could spend your life.

I found the discussion fascinating. Not because it’s anything new in my head, of course, but maybe it was seeing through the soul of the source of it.

I have my short list of people who made my soul dance at one time or another. Some were already married, some were already dating someone else, some lived a thousand miles (or more) away, some were colleagues who actually honored those stupid “no dating” rules that traditional corporate America shoves down our throats and up our asses.

My Facebook page is a veritable yearbook of “could have beens.” But I’m OK with that. I’m just lucky that I recognized specialness when I saw it, and of course I continue to be surprised all these years later when I get a private message telling me that I was more than whatever I thought I was.

(We won’t even get into the Facebook-based courtships booty calls. Really. I only went through with one, though. So far! *lulz*)

I don’t have anything profound to say about any of it. I am still of the hope that either I haven’t met that true soulmate, or that if my friend is right (and it’s a thought I’ve always entertained) that we have multiple soulmates but one shines through above the rest, well, it’ll happen when it happens.

Another colleague chimed in about his wife, saying, quite simply and succinctly, “She saved me.”

I got CHILLS, yo. A man, saying that, and meaning it? Lord, there’s hope for me yet.

I haven’t been getting nervous about whenever it’s going to be “my turn.” I’m more restless that I haven’t been in anything I can define with any sense of authority as a “relationship.” Most of the tags I can put on them fall under “salacious,” “illicit,” “WTF,” “Goddess, you KNOW better” and “What am I missing out on while I’m messing around with this clown?”

I know the proverbial “they” say that it comes around when you’re not looking. But I’ll be damned if I let something (else) good slip away because my fool ass wasn’t wise enough to see it or persistent enough to get it.

And I’ll try very hard not to wonder whether it’s too late to save me, because settling isn’t on my agenda and I’d rather be alone than be with the wrong person when the right one comes along.

Signage FAIL: ‘Jerk in a Cup’

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Just six bucks for “jerk in a cup”? Clearly, no high-quality swimmers in there for you.

Not pictured: Turkey baster $2 extra.

I fully expect to see this on FailBlog one of these days. Give a sista a photo credit if you beat me to it, mmkay? 😉

Since I can’t reveal the OMGWTFBBQ moment of the evening (it’s boy-related. Well, man-whore-related), I’ll instead examine my career:

Ages 22-27 — Some free time, no money

Ages 27-34 — No free time, no money

Age 34-? — No free time, but some money

The hell, universe? Before, I couldn’t afford to travel; now I have to turn it down left and right because of responsibilities and shit. GAH. I’d get depressed if I could just find a spot in my calendar for it!