Caterwauling

Intracoastal sunset

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

A friend and I were just lamenting on Facebook that this year managed to squeeze in more “suck” per capita than years past.

It was an intense year all around. For me, it brought staggering highs and abysmal lows … and little in-between.

It’s been nearly a year since I set foot on a plane to make the inaugural visit to my area of Florida.

I’ve never been more happy/relaxed in my life and, alternately, I’ve never been more depressed/anxious, either.

I found that what I really missed about living in D.C. was the “meh” of it all. It wasn’t spectacular, but it didn’t suck.

I was married to the monotony of it all. And BOY did the universe give me a dose of the exact opposite!

I’ve seen unparalleled beauty (pictured). I’ve seen the ocean every day of my life. I finally got my own apartment again, and I cherish that bliss at every opportunity.

But I also lost my favorite cat, damn near killed my talent and lost a lot of innocence.

I failed to make friends in my area, but I made strong connections with people in far-flung places.

I made a respectable amount of money and pissed it all away in two sets of rent and bills.

I’ve felt trapped, and I’ve felt liberated.

I’ve trusted and was rewarded. I’ve also trusted and learned the definition of disillusionment.

I learned that some people will never be on your side, no matter what you do. And I also learned that some people will always be your biggest fans, even when you think they’ve long forgotten about you.

I’ve desperately missed what “once was.” And I’ve thanked my lucky stars to be as far away as possible from it, as well.

I think it’s fair to say a part of me has died, and that another part has been reborn.

And I don’t know how many of my “nine lives” I have left, but the next one I’m working on is filled with faith and expectation.

Even-numbered years are always my best ones. I had declared 2008 to be “my” year, and it rocked on a lot of levels. Thus, I’m declaring 2010 the “Year of the Goddess.” Because, it’s time.

See you on the other side.

Apologies if you already saw it on Facebook, but I rather enjoyed this roundup of my top status updates for 2009.

Two days to go before this year gets hog-tied and roasted over an open pit with an apple in his mouth.

But wow, it’s amazing to measure just how much I saw/did/overcame/enjoyed. …

South Ocean at Christmas

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I giggle at this Charlie Brown palm tree every night of my life. There are so many beautifully decorated palms in my area, but then there’s this half-assed wonder.

And yet, now that I’ve captured its ridiculousness for the world to see, I’ve developed an unexpected fondness for it.

I’m sure that’s a metaphor for something else.

I think back to when my grandparents were still alive, how I would not want to go back to the mother ship for the holidays, and my mother always swore that it might be the last holiday I saw them alive.

I always hated that. And eventually, the opportunities to visit evaporated, but I made sure to enjoy the times I *did* make the effort so that the regrets weren’t as bad as they could have been.

Similarly, I’m training myself to live like this is it. (Here’s a great blog entry from Gaping Void, telling us to fight like hell, because this is it.)

Like when I drive to work, do I take the scenic route or the slightly faster one? I mean, I spend the drive on the phone most of the time anyway, but I’d rather enjoy the beauty of the A1A because, hey, it could all end tomorrow.

Not to be fatalistic like Mom was, but I like to think of it as being realistic. I had $50 to my name yesterday (and none today) and should have bought groceries for Mom and me, but I said fuck it and took us to lunch at the Old Key Lime House instead.

But, can you blame me, when this was the view from my table?

Anyway, who the hell knows what’s next for any of us in this life. But just as I’d rather have one exquisite waterfront dining experience rather than a week’s worth of food, I’m taking an attitude of “don’t wait to love it or experience it.”

Because, as I’m hoping, the more experiences I collect, the more — bigger and better ones — will present themselves to me.

Every once in a while, God gives me a test that I feel like I fail miserably.

(But first, to the lady at The Boys Farmer’s Market who recommended the Tocca Pinot Noir? I am pleasantly surprised. And maybe I’m not even so much as tasting it as freebasing it right now. It’s a 2008, which I’m sorry but I don’t drink new wines < / wine snob>, but since these young grapes are designed to be consumed right away, I have to say my skepticism was unwarranted.)

Anyway, I ran to grab some kitty litter (highlight of my day) when a couple of strangers told me they were out of gas and out of money and they had a little gas can and would I be able to do anything to help them?

They were tattooed and pierced and truly as nice as can be. It was a guy and a girl, and they had borrowed the guy’s sister’s minivan. I looked at the gas can and said I didn’t understand — there were four (overpriced) gas stations within walking distance.

Ah, the no-money thing.

As I had no cash on me per usual, and not much of which to speak in the ol’ bank account. (Ask Mom, who hasn’t eaten in four days, how little cash I have. And yes, she was invited to Christmas dinner yesterday but Noooo, she didn’t partake and sat around hungry all day, waiting for me to come home, which I didn’t do till after midnight. The view must be SPECTACULAR from atop the cross.)

Even though my own gas tank is always hovering near “fumes,” I figured I could spot them a few gallons. So I took the girl (who was mortified at their situation and as perplexed at the gas can as I was) around the corner, got the whopping one gallon of gas that it would hold, and took her back to their car.

I was wondering, of course, if this were some sort of setup, as it was dark and late and all. I asked the girl’s name and got her talking and I could tell she was genuine. She’s lived in South Florida for three months — can’t find a job, everything goes wrong for her here, her credit card was stolen (two out of three of those and you have me) — and she’s ready to move back to Cocoa Beach.

Anyway, she was just mortified at having to beg strangers for money and I was the only one who gave them the time of day. I said it’s Christmas; I couldn’t walk away because I’m familiar with “down on your luck.” And if it were me, I probably would have suffered because I can’t ask for help, either.

So we got back to their car and they thanked me for taking the time of day to help them — and I thanked them for being good people and this not turning into a crazy situation. 🙂

I wished them a happier new year than 2009 had turned out for them. They said God bless, and I said the same.

As I pulled away, I overheard the guy saying that the single gallon wouldn’t get them back to Broward County. And as I neared the ramp for I-95, I realized what I SHOULD have done was followed them to the gas station and put a few more gallons in their tank.

Sigh.

It’s funny — I have my dependent sitting at home with no food (because she won’t go out and GET any with the tiny bit of cash she has right now), and I’m agonizing over not helping strangers enough. Go figure.

I didn’t even think about getting back to Broward. His sister had told him the tank was full but it takes a little over an eighth of a tank to get to where we were from there.

The only real comfort I take in not having had the right idea until too late was that they’d had a few beers at my favorite restaurant in the area — and I hadn’t eaten all day ’cause Mommy hadn’t and I would rather have DIED than spend my last few bucks on coaxing her off the cross on my day off — so they had to have known the car was running on nothing when they went in, right?

Anyway, I feel bummed nonetheless, and I hope they found a way to make it home and aren’t stuck on 95 because I didn’t think quickly enough.

This just feels like a metaphor for my life — I have my share of wayward souls and I do my best to give them a hand or, at least, a start, but they can’t get past “go” if I don’t finish the job for them. I feel like God has administered the same exam to me repeatedly, and I never show up with two sharpened No. 2 pencils that’ll take me the whole way through the test.

I just wish I could get out of this “Groundhog Day” groove and not feel the need to build a fortress around my innate generosity because it’s been so used and abused for so many years. I hate being suspicious of everyone and everything. And I hate it even more that I don’t feel like I solved a problem but, rather, prolonged the arrival at a solution.

Story of my life, I guess.

Magic Kingdom Entrance

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Hope everyone had a merry little Christmas. I actually did. It’s just coming back to reality that isn’t any fun.

Went to Christmas Eve services on Thursday — magnificent is all I gotta say. If I had to narrow down the best thing about my Florida adventure, it’s got to be my church.

My pastor said a lot of great things, but the most interesting of the night was that he said that people with anxiety and fear really miss out on the best things in life. Once you let it go and truly believe that God is in control, you won’t be so wary of everything that is/can go wrong.

And boy, does that describe me to a T. But as a friend recently pointed out to me, when the worst happens — and it has, in fact, happened — well, it’s not the end of the world. In fact, now that a particular worry has gone away, the goal is not to pick up another one in its place.

So, speaking of letting go of my troubles, if only for another day. …

I spent the Christmas without Mom but with a wonderful family — had a day filled with good conversation, good food and very good kids. I absolutely fell in love with all of them. We hung out in their gorgeous new house, took a walk to the nearby marina, and otherwise just had a perfectly lovely Christmas.

I became best buds with the 7-year-old and the 3-year-old (so cute and well-behaved and very gracious — if you could promise me that my kids would turn out like that, I’d have children in a heartbeat). The baby wasn’t having much to do with me, but that’s OK.

The day went swimmingly, with one of my friends commenting twice how good with kids he thought I was. Hah. Well, his were polite and quiet and said “thank you” for the slightest gift or kindness extended to them, so they were easy. 🙂

The only real bump in the road was when the 7-year-old expressed that she felt terrible that I had brought gifts for her but that she didn’t have anything for me. So, she was hopeful when she asked what Santa had given me.

And dumbass didn’t think before saying that I didn’t get a visit from Santa this year. Yee-ikes. Way to make a kid nearly cry.

I explained that I’ve moved twice in the last year and my last known address on file for Santa is in Washington, D.C., and I’m SURE that my gifts will get forwarded, or else Santa will just be doubly good to me next year.

I’m counting on the “doubly good to me next year” since getting one present would, in effect, double the goose egg I got this year.

Oddly enough, Kadie pooped on the carpet and rubbed a Maddie-esque shit streak on it on Christmas. I think Maddie told her to do it so that I’d remember her. 🙂 Like I could ever forget. …

2009 was not my best year. It was a failure on many epic levels and deserves to be skewered over an open pit.

This year brought a lot of very-expensive lessons. But I’m a lot smarter than I was 12 months ago.

And I’m going to be a hell of a lot smarter 12 months from now, too.

It also brought a lot of good, too. And that’s all I’m planning to take into 2010.

‘Ice-skimo’

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Haven’t really been around the Internet much in the past few days, mostly because the Internet has been out at Casa Caterwauling and the only time I was able to get online was when I was in Orlando for the weekend. *eyeroll*

Ask me how much I hate Comcast right now. Wait … don’t. My head will start spinning around again. Seven days without Internet, but two days FILLED with ineptitude. Shocking, I know.

Let’s talk about Orlando, shall we?

One highlight of my trip north was to the Gaylord Palms — a hotel where I have FOND memories (there’s a tinge of sarcasm there, but I really do have some damn good memories of staying there!). It was fun to show Mom where I got drunk there and got hit on here and there’s the hotel room where I made a post-midnight visit to …. O HAI TMI. *ahem*

Anyway, for the G-rated portion of this tour. …

Went to the “Ice” showcase, where the convention center was turned into a 9-degrees-warm wonderland.

Nine degrees in Florida. Little Miss here was in flip-flops and had freezer-burned toes after her 20 minutes in the exhibit.

It was very cool (pun intended) — absolutely everything was made of ice. (Photoset here.) Not worth nearly $60 for admission for two people (and $12 to park), but very cute nonetheless.

I got the world’s best souvenir from my trip there. I’ve been looking for a nativity forever — something small, modern and cute. Preferably something made of crystal. And hot damn, I found THE most perfect nativity in the “Ice” gift shop:

Big ups to the Gaylord for providing parkas. They even had hats and mittens for sale in the gift shop that you are dumped into AFTER the event. (*sigh*) Too bad they didn’t have socks — I would REALLY look like a South Floridian with socks and flip-flops! 🙂

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got for tonight. I have a lot on my mind and I’m going to do something wild and crazy and NOT process my thoughts in public. (A first! It’s a Christmas MIRACLE!!!)

Anyway, ho ho ho and a bottle of pinot. …

Downtown Disney

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

In the first actual bona fide vacation day (more or less) that I’ve taken since January, when I came down to Florida to interview for my job, it felt more like work than, well, work does.

Drove from FLL to MCO, roughly, for those who fly and GOD I wish I had. But, alas, I spent upward of three hours in a car with a mom and a cat in a near-constant torrential downpour. Talk about good times for all.

But, alas, the sun shined just enough to get me from Florida’s Turnpike to my hotel, whereupon the monsoon picked up. The good news in all of this is that apparently I drove out of the flood zone and my area is under tornado watch.

I take my absence from the two-foot puddles that God actually DOES love me and isn’t totally out to fuck with me all the time! 🙂

I don’t know whether my area has power or not, but I do know that my Internet went kaput on Wednesday morning and, as it turns out, my modem is fried and can’t be replaced till Monday afternoon. You know, when you have a project you put to bed every school night, that’s REAL convenient. Spent Wednesday eve at Panera; Sunday night will bring the same. Just hope it’s open as late as I need it to be!

Oh, yeah, so, I’m in Downtown Disney. Forgot my camera, as usual, but it’s so rainy and dark here in Orlando that I’m not worried about capturing all the memories we’re making. (*gag*)

Had a lovely dinner on the water at the House of Blues last night. Went in every freaking store in Disney’s Marketplace. Froze my ass off the whole way, since South Florida girl brought nothing but jeans, tank tops, T-shirts and shorts for her weekend adventure. And I’m not yet desperate enough to pay $100 for a sweatshirt with fucking Goofy on it.

I’m debating about whether to go to CityWalk at Universal Studios today or to go partake in “Ice” at the Gaylod Palms, where the display is in an area that’s 9 degrees Fahrenheit. NINE DEGREES. In a tank top. And shorts. In the rain. Paying nearly $30 a person to endure enjoy it.

Also, tonight is the final night of Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas Party. Which is the reason I came up here in the first place. I’ll tell you what’ll make me merry — for it not to (literally!) rain on my parade!

The lovely Helen er, Shannon put out a call for another 79 of us to share our worlds — where we go, what we do, what constitutes life in our part of the planet.

This girl who was born in the projects and grew up on food stamps and government cheese now lives in one of the richest neighborhoods in America. Of course, since I pay for two apartments here, some food stamps would be very much appreciated right now. 🙂

This is a little area called the Port of Palm Beach, although it’s also known as the Riviera Beach Marina. Reminds me very much of Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, and I love it so:

I’ve only been there twice, once to volunteer for my church (more on that later) and once yesterday, to have a lovely lunch at the Tiki Bar. Some of you on Facebook were envying my bacon-wrapped scallops with the apricot-horseradish dipping sauce yesterday. 🙂

Speaking of church, I attend one of the four campuses (five if you count the Internet) of Christ Fellowship. There’s a main campus in Palm Beach Gardens, and they broadcast their services to all the other locations except mine.

Well, it’s complicated — they do broadcast to my campus for the 9 a.m. service.

But I attend the 11 a.m. service because I love the on-site pastor and he does his own thing then, aimed at people our age and younger. He’s 39 and very easy on the eyes. (Hey, it doesn’t matter what my reasons are for going to church, just as long as I go, right?)

This is what my church looks like on the inside:

This is the outside:

The city where I work has been named the No. 2 beach in Florida for sandcastle-building. Only, I have yet to see a sandcastle. But I’ve seen exquisite creatures like this guy on random mornings in which I happen to squeeze in a quick walk:

I lost most of my summer because of an all-consuming project. But these days, I’m trying to get out as much as possible and not miss what my area has to offer. I mean, it is Christmas, after all. …

I currently live in an adorable little penthouse apartment with updated, stainless-steel appliances that break. My a/c is turned off, thanks to my first month’s bill being $500 because the unit is old. So, it gets hot up here. But since it’s “winter” in Florida (80 degrees as a low, anyone?), not only is the weather gorgeous, but the winds are incredibly strong up here.

My condo sits on the Intracoastal Waterway …

With the Atlantic Ocean across the street …

This is as close to paradise as it gets, kids.

I work here. It looks like IKEA but is simply only furnished by it. 🙂 The John Lennon poster is not mine, but I love New York and that makes me happy. Next to it is my calendar of Paris, because that’s where I want to be:

In this area, the homeless are quite creative. They use palm leaves to make “roses” and other souvenirs:

I’ve started spending my Saturdays in Fort Lauderdale. The weather has been for crap the past couple weeks and I couldn’t get a good picture to save my life.

I tried to go to Winterfest on Saturday — the biggest, baddest boat parade in the area. I had a GREAT parking spot, which my awesome server at Cafe Bluefish turned me on to. (And the dolphin fingers at Cafe Bluefish? To. Die. For.)

But alas, it rained like fucking hell and I gave up on the idea, even though I was in a FREE parking space, just TWO BLOCKS from the event. Gah.

The only photo I can find of the Fort Lauderdale area is this one, of the Seminole Hard Rock in Hollywood, Fla. … the title of the photo is “A Bar Named After My Life.”

Regular readers of this blog know that I’m on a quest to “live this life if it kills me.” Thus, I will be heading to Orlando on Thursday to celebrate Christmas, Disney-style.

I don’t have any digital photos of Disney, but I usually stay at the Gaylord Palms. (Correction: I did while I was on my last employer’s dime!) So, here’s a photo of the view from my hotel room — yes, this was taken indoors.

Thank you for taking this tour of my life with me! This is a great scrapbook of memories from this period in my life. Shannon, thanks for including me in the project!

Happy holidays

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Because we need some humor around here. …

I had bought myself a chocolate pizza from Pizza Rustica on Friday night, as my reward for getting through a very stressful seven days without having a nervous breakdown.

(I note that I bring on the stress myself. I’m sensitive, damn it.)

So as I drove home along the A1A (where I snapped a photo of this sign — I love driving along the ocean at night now because the palm trees are lit up and I can actually see the road in the dark for a change), I enjoyed part of my treat.

BTW, chocolate pizza = hot dough with melted Nutella. it’s best when it’s fresh, of course. And I figured I’d heat up the other half for breakfast in the morning.

So, I woke up yesterday, fed the kitty, made some coffee and went to look for my remaining chocolate pizza when — alas — it was missing!

I saw the little pizza box in the trash, and it was empty. Hmmm.

Now, knowing that Mom comes and goes as she pleases, I figured she might have taken the pizza. Whatever, no big.

I think I ended up having a Reese’s cup for breakfast (yes, my diet has gone to hell — why do you ask?). And an hour later, as I was looking under my bed for one of Kadie’s toys, I saw the plate upon which said chocolate pizza was placed into the box.

No pizza, mind you. Just the chocolate-strewn plate.

OK, so either Kadie ate it or I did.

But here’s the thing — did I eat it in my SLEEP?

I have absolutely no recollection of opening the fridge, taking out the box, putting it in the trash and taking the plate of goodness into my bedroom.

Oh joy. I sleepwalk and I stress-eat. Now I sleep-eat. Awesome!

Canopy Lights on Clematis Street

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

“I should know
Who I am by now
I walk
The record stands somehow
Thinking of winter

Your name is the splinter inside me
While I wait

And I remember the sound
Of your November downtown
And I remember the truth
A warm December with you
But I don’t have to make this mistake
And I don’t have to stay this way.”

— Joshua Radin, “Winter”

Warmest December I’ve ever experienced. Or, rather, endured, ’cause it’s friggin’ hot in this apartment and I have two hours’ worth of work still to do while I bake. (And not baking cookies. Just, baking in my own skin.)

And, why yes, I’m posting song lyrics to keep from posting other things. How did you guess? I’ve never done THAT before! 😉

I have a Pandora’s box of PostSecret-type outbursts waiting to happen. Problem is, this author isn’t anonymous, so the messages have to be.

Things like:

1. I haven’t hugged you since 1996 and, yet, the moment you post a song to Facebook, I HAVE to download it because it’s the only way I can be close to you.

2. I didn’t answer your e-mail on purpose. I know you’re going to be in my area. And I’m just crazy enough to come and find you after … what is it … seven years? Think your wife would mind? 😉

3. Thanks … I think.

4. Why not just stick your dick directly in my ear and take the mind-fucking to the next level? Or someone else’s cock — I don’t care. I suspect yours wouldn’t reach my eardrum.

5. I’d ask why you didn’t tell me, but we both know why. I wish you well. I really do. I think that much of you. Always have, always will.

That’s it for today, kids. Back to work for me.