Caterwauling

Pork Parfait!

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

So, OK, I heard a disturbing fact recently that Florida is the second-highest state when it comes to having human trafficking.

If that isn’t bad enough, I’m pretty sure we’ve got the worst children and families system in the country as well, as it always seems like it is Florida where kids go missing the most.

I say all of this not to take away from the deliciousness of my Pork Parfait dinner at the South Florida Fair tonight (dear God, it’s beautiful, although I *almost* got the donut burger instead, but this seemed healthier). But instead, to say that something slightly bizarre happened at the fair out in Royal Palm.

So, this event is huge — probably 129 acres of food booths and one acre of animals and rides. 🙂 And of course, children will wander away from their parents. (Read: their parents are too pre-occupied with the food booths to notice that their kids wander away.)

A series of announcements came out over the loudspeaker, as children were found with no parents around for miles. First it was Kid 1. Then another was found and it was Kid 1 and Kid 2. Then ANOTHER kid was found, so the parents of Kids 1, 2 and 3 were commanded to come get their kids.

About 10 minutes later, a VERY frantic announcement comes out:

“The woman who took Kids 1 and 2, PLEASE RETURN THEM IMMEDIATELY. All of the parents have shown up and want their children.”

*thunk*

There were no announcements after that.

But holy shit, people can just walk off with two kids if they feel like it?

I don’t mean to imply that the culprit was taking them for trafficking purposes or kidnapping them away from their crazy family. (I sure as hell hope not.)

But I admit, I am NOT going to sleep well tonight, wondering what happened to those two little girls and whether they were reunited with the right families. I pray that it was their real mother who got them the first time around and hopefully they were spared from any harm.

And if I ever have kids before my eggs pass their expiration date, I’m going to lock them in the house till they’re 30. Or at least 18, since I’ll probably be 70 by then and I won’t be able to chase them. 😉

Lake Avenue Bridge

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Headed out again tonight. Last I wrote, I went to a lovely beach bonfire.

Those are going to be held every other weekend, but this weekend, apparently all the new-age junkies all get together and worship the full moon in a drum circle in the same spot as the bonfire.

I don’t know what to expect when I head up to Lake Worth tonight, other than drummers, dancers, fire-spinners and other nuts like me who worship the elements — sand (earth), ocean (water), moon (as sun) (fire) and tasty-delicious salty breezes (air).

I hope I can find some time to hit the bonfire next weekend. I do so very much love free events. 🙂

Speaking of escaping donations, I’m going to skip church tomorrow, but not because I’m taking part of some holy heathen ceremony tonight.

< diatribe >

(The pastor was on a tear last week about all of us who yap about our horoscopes on Facebook — how that’s such a slap in God’s face. Fine, I unsubscribed from my horoscope, but I’m not giving up worshiping Mother Earth, yo. I need all the good karma I can get.)

< / diatribe >

Anyway, in a move that will cost about 40 times that of the weekly check in the offering at church, I figured I’d hit the South Florida Fair, as it will be the last day and all.

Sidenote: I still get such a kick out of attending things like festivals and fairs in 80-degree January weather. It’s just marvelous. It’s 11 degrees in D.C. (I’m sorry, guys — I have to count my blessings.)

However, I am slightly bummed that I won’t see my man at church, though. Perhaps he will miss me. 😉

Anyway, speaking of wasting time, I spent today in very expensive neighborhoods, and I have such a hard time coming to terms with the gaping void between the “haves” and “have nots.”

Particularly as I passed Anna Kournikova’s house, where she allegedly left her 5-year-old alone for an hour and the kid supposedly fell out of a window and into their pool, I just could do little but scratch my head as I drove my beat-up jalopy through the neighborhoods with 20-foot-tall, square hedges that shield their multimillion-dollar homes from the likes of me.

I’ll spare the “couldn’t afford a babysitter?” bit, but suffice it to say, I feel like I’m being so greedy and terrible that I spend so much on rent when I’m sure most of the residents in Palm Beach County — at least, where I was today — probably have six or seven other homes around the world. And I’m sure they have food in every fridge and about eight cars in every driveway.

This is what makes me the crazy, tree-hugging liberal I am. I don’t begrudge anyone anything. But I’ve been deeply immersed in a Patrick Lencioni book in which he examines, among other things, irrelevance in the workplace, it makes one wonder whether all these bored and unfulfilled stars would be happier making a difference in the lives of others instead of just buying happiness in the form of material things.

Wow, the diatribes just keep coming. Imagine what I *really* want to be saying instead, since my cognitive dysentery is symptomatic of penguin pokage verbal constipation. 🙂

Anyway, I’m just saying, the more money I make, the more I spend. Which means I’m as poor (although less morally bankrupt, I hope) as I was five years and four raises ago. And I think, what if I were in the bajillion-dollar income bracket — would I, instead of having seven homes around the world, have 14 … two in each country so that Mom can have one and I can have the other? 😀

I know, I know, I’m picking on her unfairly today. It’s sort of like when I used to play darts. There was the actual dartboard that I hit, and the mental picture that got me to focus on driving a sharp piece of metal into the bullseye.

I guess I’m crabby because I started thinking about moving again. Just across the Intracoastal, when this stupid lease is up. My cat has been very sick and since I missed so many signs with Maddie, I’m hyper when Kadie isn’t well.

Turns out that apparently the apartment may be making Kadie sick, as the doctor said she got E. Coli from the water. Which, Florida water SUCKS. But I wonder if it’s the ancient pipes or the water itself.

And yes, it’s slightly hilarious that I’m now buying bottled water for my cat, but I drink out of the tap. Welcome to my world. I’m two steps away from buying her a stroller like everybody else in my neighborhood does for their pets!

I don’t know what today’s theme is. Perhaps it’s that money leases your freedom and happiness over the short term, but it’s the little things that warm (or chill) your heart forever, so choose wisely, grasshopper, what supposedly small moments and memories are going to do their little part in shaping your worldview and, ultimately, the rest of your life.

Proverbs 29:11
“A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back.”

Yep, it’s hard out there for an editor.

Most. Underrated. Profession. Ever.

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Palm Beach sunset

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I’m sure we’re all familiar with sexual frustration. Hell, even a couple hours after I’ve gotten some, I’ve got that craving for more.

And by “hours,” I mean “seconds or minutes.”

Today I’m intellectually frustrated. I almost typed “intellectually challenged,” but that has a ‘whole ‘nother meaning and I can apply it to a lot of people but I don’t think I qualify for that particular modifier.

Speaking of using one’s noodle, I’m writing a book in my head. I just hope my brain hasn’t atrophied by the time I get around to putting the words into a computer. It’s kind of an “Island of Misfit Toys” meets “Children of the Corn” story.

Any horror writers who can help a girl out? Well, horror, non-fiction, biographical, autobiographical writers … whatever. 😉

Midnight on the Intracoastal

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

“My, my, my it’s a beautiful world
I like driving in my car
Roll the top down, sometimes i travel quite far
Travel to the ocean and stare up at the stars
i like driving in my car.”

— Colin Hay, “Beautiful World”

(Serious hat-tip to Chris for turning me on to this song!)

As far as weekends go, this one has been mostly top-notch. Friday was exquisite, yesterday brought celebrating a dear friend’s birthday … in person! And today, well, I think I came close to getting a date.

So … win?

There’s this cute guy at church. I mean, my type. What is my type? Well, breathing, for starters. We could end the list there but luckily, I don’t have to. Jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes. Looks good, smells good … yeah, that’s about all I’ve gotten so far, but in my world, he’s a keeper so far. 🙂

Anyway, I’ll save today’s story for another day, but I’ve already written it off and filed it under, “The three of us would be SO HAPPY together. Run while you can!”

I’ve all but given up on happily ever after, since my life is a package deal.

It’s not all because of the over-extended hosueguest. I admit, she’s an easy scapegoat — an almost-willing target for my frustrations that I can’t direct anywhere else.

I *should* be like, hey, I’m a hot commodity and if you want a piece of this, Mom’s part of the deal.

But I have enough “quirks” (neuroses and other shortcomings) that could be deal-breakers enough on their own. No matter how equally “quirky” anyone is whom I meet, I can’t expect anyone to be accepting of ALL the baggage I bring.

But. …

If just for a moment, please let me revel in the boy with the magnificent blue eyes. in particular, how my entire being is consumed with — I dunno — something when he is near.

That could be someone special right there. Or, not. Whichever. 😉 But I can’t remember the last time I got all hot and bothered just by standing next to someone.

And whether it’s true or not, I’d like to believe that he (or whomever) would have more reasons to stay than to run away. But do I really need to put myself through the wringer just to ultimately endure the inevitable?

Or am I so disillusioned after being disappointed by so many, that I underestimate him — and, for that matter, perhaps I’ve pre-emptively written off so many more, and for nothing?

“And still this emptiness persists
Perhaps this is as good as it gets
When you’ve given up the drink
And those nasty cigarettes
Now I leave the party early, at least with no regrets
I watch the sun as it comes up, I watch it as it sets
Yeah, this is as good as it gets.”

‘And bonfires lit up the shore’

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Yesterday = Best. Day. Ever.

A severe annoyance pre-8 a.m. could have put a damper on the day. I write off said annoyance to factors at work long before that.

Did a “work from home” day that was mostly spent between Barnes & Noble and Panera at CityPlace. I find I get more done while sitting in traffic than I do in the office — absolutely productive day.

It was also a gorgeous day. 80 degrees. Sunny. Breezy. Magnificent.

But alas, as I was wrapping up my projects for the day (to be resumed Sunday night), the skies parted and Moses came looking for animals to round up. So, I caught a movie (“It’s Complicated”) at the Parisian after the official “Yabba Dabba Do!” escaped my lips at quitting time.

The rain was light when I left and I wasn’t sure I was going to head down to Lake Worth for the beach bonfire, but I did. And just for me, I think, the rain stopped and I truly got to experience why people live in beach towns.

I admit, I never understood “beach people” until now. But sitting next to a huge fire pit in the sand and having the ocean just 12 feet away … aaah. This is my heaven. This is what I will aspire to, every day for the rest of my life.

I saw someone I know there — she introduced me to her friends and invited me to hang with her group. Which was so nice. I opted to do the lone-wolf thing, though. I have far too many half-formed ideas in my head and really enjoyed spending the evening with them.

My clothes, skin, hair — everything — were permeated with firewood and salt air, and it was good. In the elevator at my building, one gentleman said, “You must’ve gone to the bonfire.” It’s that potent. I’d like to bottle this scent and make perfume and candles out of it.

Speaking of (still) smelling like a fire pit, I must hop in the shower now to wash that lovely scent off of my skin. But I am certain, that, for the rest of my life, I will never forget dancing barefoot in the sand as the D.J. spun this glorious little tune. …

“Left a good job in the city,
Working for The Man every night and day,
And I never lost one minute of sleeping,
Worrying ’bout the way things might have been.

Big wheel keep on turning,
Proud Mary keep on burning,
Rolling, rolling, rolling on the river.

Cleaned a lot of plates in Memphis,
Pumped a lot of ‘tane down in New Orleans,
But I never saw the good side of the city,
Until I hitched a ride on a river boat queen.

Rolling, rolling, rolling on the river.
If you come down to the river,
Bet you gonna find some people who live.
You don’t have to worry ’cause you have no money,
People on the river are happy to give.”

— CCR (but Tina Turner’s version), “Proud Mary”

South for the winter

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Busy lil bee these days. I find myself not having enough time to accommodate all the work and play, which in my book is a Good Thing.

A beloved friend from D.C. (via Baltimore) moved down here and we took on the town last night. We went for a drink, we met cute boys, we had a great meal and, overall, we reveled in ocean-town life and how vastly improved it is from our Maryland motherland.

I think last night was the first time I ever referred to Florida as home. I have no doubt that it was knowing I have a friend who works down the street and also lives a few miles down on the same street I’m on.

I realized I’d simply forgotten to have fun. I suppose it’s something I have to put on my to-do list, somewhere between “write/edit this” and “publish that” and “don’t hit ‘snooze’ too many times.”

But in any event, I had fun and it wasn’t even scheduled, so I will have to do more of that! So good to be reminded. …

I often talk about “God encounters” and the people I meet when I might or might not realize I need them. And last night, we were that — I think — to a wonderful guy we met at the bar who was waiting for his date to arrive.

I had invited him to lean in and order his Jameson and water, as he wasn’t getting any love from the uber-busy bartenders. We got to talking and we learned he had fought hard to get to what was about to be his second date with someone he hasn’t seen in six weeks.

He told us a funny, embarrassing little story and asked if he should break the ice with his date with that. We gave him a resounding “no” but we did enjoy it — it just wasn’t second-date material.

He had gotten there way early to check out the place (and she was running late). He seemed very nervous and almost like he doubted that the night would be a success. My god, if he weren’t meeting another woman there. … *pant* *drool*

Anyway, our table became available and my friend went to grab it. I settled at the bar and wished him luck. I told him that we’d be there for a few hours if it didn’t work out the way he hoped — we’d be glad to welcome him back. He was relieved and grateful.

It was one of those moments when I wished I had handed him my business card (is that Eau de Desperation that you smell? Yes plz!), but I was content in knowing that he needed his confidence built up, and we did exactly that.

I also told him what to order, as I am sort of a regular and I have tried everything on the menu, extensive drink menu included. 😉

I did try to find him before we left, just to see whether she showed up and if he looked to be having a good time. The place was packed and I canvassed most of it, but they weren’t to be found.

Perhaps their table was hidden outside, behind the restaurant, as many eateries in our land will provide tables and tiki torches for miles.

In any event, we were sending David from Fort Lauderdale good vibes, and I hope he got his coveted third date. Moreover, I hope she’s really worth it, because I’ve had a hell of a time meeting “good” guys like him in this area and I hope that these rare jewels end up with someone who deserves them.

Hopefully next time, we’ll meet someone just like him, who has eyes only for us. …

Have you ever been in a situation when you could put someone’s mind at ease by simply revealing the details that they seek — and showing them that what’s happening in your mind, heart and life honestly has nothing to do with them but is something else entirely that’s very private and personal — but the very fact that it’s something so deeply personal is why you’re not ready (if you ever will be) to share?

“We’re caught in a trap
I can’t walk out
Because I love you too much baby

Why can’t you see
What you’re doing to me
When you don’t believe a word I say?

We can’t go on together
With suspicious minds
And we can’t build our dreams
On suspicious minds

So, if an old friend I know
Drops by to say hello
Would I still see suspicion in your eyes?

Here we go again
Asking where I’ve been
You can’t see these tears are real
I’m crying

We can’t go on together
With suspicious minds
And be can’t build our dreams
On suspicious minds

Oh let our love survive
Or dry the tears from your eyes
Let’s don’t let a good thing die

When honey, you know
I’ve never lied to you
Mmm yeah, yeah.”

— Elvis Presley, “Suspicious Minds”

I tell ya, if the amount of blogging I’ve done (er, the lack thereof) so far in 2010 is any indication of how much personal writing I’ll do this year, this blog will be shut down by June. And other than losing my $10/month therapy, that’s really not a bad thing.

“There’s a place in the world for a gambler
There’s a burden that only he can bear
There’s a place in the world for a gambler
And he sees…oh, yes he sees…
And he sees…oh, yes he sees…”

“There’s a Place in the World for a Gambler” — Dan Fogelberg

I had one of those “God encounters” recently, when I found myself in deep conversation with a total stranger about, well, everything. God, it was cathartic.

We were confined to a small space for a couple of hours, both of us with the world weighing on our respective shoulders. If we had a common thread, it was that our great life skill was our ability to put hope on hold.

I found myself sharing stories that even my friends don’t know. The stories come easily because I continually turn them around in my head like a Rubik’s cube, trying desperately to get the colors to synchronize yet only ending up with one side being perfect and the rest a rainbow mess.

“There’s a song in the heart of a woman
That only the truest of loves can release
There’s a song in the heart of a woman
Set it free…oh, set it free
Set it free…oh, set it free
Set it free…oh, set it free.”

I unwittingly uncovered a scar that I try not to poke at. It’s there — I can see it with my heart.

Another friend has encouraged me to embrace my inner Julie Andrews … to go up to the mountaintop and sing my little heart out. But I can’t find the lyrics right now. I thought I’d had them memorized, and I fear that I’ve forgotten the melody for good.

This is a time of renewal for me. A time to start over, right where I’m standing.

I’d say I want a do-over on this life of mine, but the prospect of re-living it is scarier than a battered wife facing the world for the first time with her bruises covered by 10 layers of makeup.

“There’s a light in the depths of your darkness
There’s a calm at the eye of every storm
There’s a light in the depths of your darkness
Let it shine…oh, let it shine
Let it shine…oh, let it shine
Let it shine…oh, let it shine
Let it shine.”

It was strangely hard to say goodbye to my newfound friend. We hugged and finally exchanged names. We looked over our shoulders and waved as the distance grew greater.

And I did something I haven’t done in a long while — I burst into tears.

Happy ones.

Because God gave me a friend at the moment I needed one most. At a time when I feel like I’m the last sane person standing in my corner of the world.

And while everything else is a screwed-up pile of shit, I got a sign that not only will I get through this, but that God is watching me and will throw me a line when I need one.

2010 isn’t starting out quite the way I thought it would, but hope is far from being lost. I guess, if I want to experience a miracle, I’ve got to make it happen myself.

And soon enough, I won’t need makeup because the bruises will go away for good.