Caterwauling

Ah, work. Sigh.

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

George’s mom and I had dinner at our favorite place tonight, per usual. I think our dinner dates save our sanity during the workweek. Same place, same cocktails, same appetizer … only I deviate with the dinner choices.

We tried a new table outdoors. We usually pick one of the couches on the porch, as it’s usually always raining. But they added a lovely mosaic table this evening — and the weather is PERFECT — so we dined under the tiki torches and the stars. Aaaah, lovely.

We’re plotting our Paris rendezvous. We’re thinking Valentine’s Day, since our collective staff members think we’re a couple anyway. 😉 Also, it is a historically shitty holiday, so why not escape to the world’s most-romantic city with our favorite travel partners?

I wish we could go now. We CAN, of course. Or we could go a year from now. But the friend-of-a-friend there will be moving across the river to Germany. Which, is fine too.

I just never dreamed I’d get to Paris. And now … it’s all a matter of booking the trip.

I can’t stand my living situation. I’m at my wits’ end. I can’t believe I can be so aloof and annoyed and, yet, she refuses to take the hint and leave.

Then I wonder why I deserve an invitation to Paris — when I’m “so mean,” according to the fixture in my house … or is it because it’s a reward for my suffering?

And because Paris is my dream — my I-can-die-happy-place — does that mean my suffering is about to come to an end, one way or another?

Busy day.

Blew off work at 2:30 p.m. to attend a birthday party at a neighboring office. The birthday boy showed up close to 5 p.m. By then we’d eaten most of the cake (from Sugar Chef. NOM. Second birthday in a week that we had cake from there!) and polished off a bottle of Patron, Three Olives’ grape vodka, Captain Morgan, Grey Goose and Malibu rum.

I think only four of us were in attendance. 😉 Did I mention that I love my job?

Since I was back in my home area well-before my usual 7-p.m.-ish departure time, I opted to waste time by driving around for a few hours. The weather here is GORGEOUS. It’s about 83 all the time, very windy — just beautiful.

The winds are fierce — I was able to turn off my a/c because, just a floor shy of my old penthouse digs, the air is crazy up here. The vertical blinds are all kerfuffled, paperwork has blown into the wrong rooms, the cat pretty much lives in the closet and, any second now, I’m just WAITING for a house to fall on my mother.

A girl can dream, yes?

I was kind of giggling to myself a few minutes ago, that I officially met the third-biggest asshole in Palm Beach County. The only reason he won’t ever usurp No. 1 and No. 2 is because he, at the very least, earned his right to be a dick.

Not saying he SHOULD be as Costco-sized box o’ douche as he is … but, you know. I’m willing to respect someone who’s basically spent a lifetime successfully (and legally) scamming people out of their money. Assholes 1 and 2 are just pricks for the sake of being so.

Speaking of assholes, when IS that house gonna fall on that woman? Like my friend said to his own mom, either get better soon or decline quickly!

My phone registered zero missed calls today. I took all the calls I got and I made other calls. Did not once have to cuss loudly at the phone to STOP RINGING because someone wouldn’t STOP STALKING me. Victory!

I was just looking at how the price of my dining room set changed on Amazon. I got a table, four chairs and a baker’s rack — plus shipping — for just a couple dollars more than what the table and four chairs cost today. I say, free shipping and baker’s rack? Yes, please! Thanks, Universe!

My head is throbbing today. Like, someone put a nail on my temple and is painstakingly hitting it *tap … tap … tap.* I have too much work to do, but I had to call it quits because I couldn’t function.

And I needed cake. Fucking diet. I did so well the last two weeks. Humph. Cake tomorrow, then DaDa Thursday, and THEN diet!

So, OK, in other good news today, I got invited to stay in Paris. PARIS. Yes, THAT Paris. I have a place to stay (the invitation was given to me to extend to my favorite travel partner, the lovely Lady L, as well). Two blocks from the Eiffel Tower, and a fridge full of brie at all times.

Lady L, when are you free?!?!

I assure you, my new-car purchase can wait!!!

I also have to thank my phone-abusing friend for putting me back in touch with an old friend. We type here and there but it’s been nice to have an actual dialogue again. The banter has made for a couple of very lighthearted moments during otherwise-serious meetings or between-meeting breaks.

There was another conversation today that tickled me. I have to share:

Person 1: “If I kill (blank), their parents can just have another child.”

Me: “I dunno. God broke the mold after He made THAT one.”

Person 1: “Well, that one somehow slipped past God. No worries — I’ll go round this one up and remove the blemish on humanity that once roamed the earth freely. I got your back, God!”

Tangled

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I miss the days of catblogging for Maddie. I am glad she got “famous” organically, before the advent of Facebook and everybody in the world putting up one stupid pet post and suddenly getting invited onto a talk show. God, I miss that cat.

Anyway, no real reason for this Kadie pic other than that I get one good shot of her a year, and this is it for 2010. *scritches* I do love this fur-sack. She puts up with my mother, and claws her mercilessly when needed, and that makes me smile.

I have been running away from bad karma these past few days. Not of my own generating — and that’s the thing. I realize that the universe kicking my ass isn’t entirely my fault.

Hanging around people with bad karma is impacting mine. I think about Crack Whore. And how every time he flared up in my life, I dented my car. It was when I was jumping as high (heh) as he wanted me to that my car took the punishment.

Sure, I know I can’t drive/park/operate heavy machinery other than the occasional vibrator. I don’t blame Crack Whore per se on that. But I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that my car got crushed like a Coke can (heh. Coke.) whenever I was being recruited to carry out my portion of his Evil Plans. Coincidence? I think not.

I hung around some yin-yang in college and beyond, and it was only after I parted ways with that Freak of the Week that the black cloud over my life evaporated. Don’t get me wrong — life still ain’t perfect. But when you have someone who purposely challenges all that is good and right with the universe, that attracts far too much bad karma for one person. It rubs off on those who happen to be standing nearby. Even if we did nothing to attract it.

I have my parade of married men to contend with. Honest to God, I am a good girl (or try to be. Mostly) and, frankly, I have enough to answer to when we get to my Life Review when it’s my time to cross over. And it best be WORTH IT when I go sweat in the eternal sauna. I’m not wasting my salvation on propositions that are going to keep me from meeting/being with my true soulmate.

The bleeding-heart Socialist in me wants to help everyone who needs it. But that also means attracting varying levels of their karma, and that is the thanks I get. I am starting to see why all the Libertarian freaks are all about self-reliant living. You don’t bother me; I don’t bother you — we just peacefully coexist with the resources we each have. If I’m thirsty, I collect rainwater. If you’re lonely, well, too fucking bad. 🙂

Speaking of lonely, I’ve had my phone in “airplane” mode for what’s starting on five days. I can’t talk about it and frankly, I don’t want to. But I think it’s another example of people who tempt fate FAR too often, raining on my parade. I feel terrible knowing people are going through some shit, and knowing that I am in a position of helping them. But at some point they’ve got to humble themselves and maybe give up some of the excesses (not limited to EGO) and let the universe knock them down a few pegs.

I know many people’s darkest secrets. And again, I feel like the universe is telling me to fly above the dark clouds or else I’ll continue to become enshrouded by them.

(Exhibit A: The UEOEH. Who used MY MONEY for HER DRIVER’S LICENSE to buy ribs and cornbread for dinner last night. I asked her, why the fuck can’t she buy me a goddamned veggie burger or a salad instead? Of course, the stress from the EGO has me all kerfuffled, and I ate every last hunk of fat off every last rib. Fuck you all. Love, Goddess.)

I don’t mean to blame anyone for my own problems. But I react to the over-stimulus by freaking out (hence we upped my anxiety-pill dosage yesterday) and pigging out (sigh).

Everyone, keep your damn drama. I had to tell my one friend to stop contacting me for now. I am not helping that person to get ahead at my own expense. I want to use my phone again. I want to not miss important calls because he hangs up and calls back every hour (and texts in-between).

I have to make way for my own good karma to get through to me. And if you’re standing in the way of it — or the shadow of sins past, present and/or future are within a five-mile radius of me — I kindly ask that you let me have the sunshine that I’ve worked so hard to see.

Let’s face it — if all dogs (and cats) go to heaven, I damn sure want to see my babies when I join them on the other side. Please let me have that. Let me let go of my fears, my rage, my bitterness, my sadness, my exhaustion, my frustration and my indifference. I choose light. I choose peace. I choose love.

And everything else is just a waste of time.

“Little girls don’t know how to be sweet girls.
Mama didn’t teach me.
Little boys don’t know how to treat little girls.
Daddy didn’t show me.

Face down, on top of your bed.
Oh why did I give it up to you?
Is this how I shoot myself up high,
Just high enough to get through?

Again, the false affection.
Again, we break down inside.
Love save the empty.
Love save the empty, and save me.”

— Erin McCarley, “Love Save the Empty”

Newest earworm. Enjoy!

So, I did a grown-up thing and bought a dining room set yesterday. Plus a matching baker’s rack, which is something I’ve always wanted.

Of course, that means emptying and breaking down the nine thousand boxes in the dining room without moving them to the living room, where there’s also a mighty pile of those. (Thanks to an ant problem, we have stacked boxes and put Kadie’s food dishes on top of them.)

(Another random parenthetical — I addressed my rent check to the “Ant Capital of the World.” Think that will get my message across?)

I’ve not wanted to invest any money into my apartments, but it’s time. I just thought if I could get rid of the UEOEH, I could feel free to decorate again. I mean, she never has any money or food, so anytime I spend money on myself, I feel guilty that she’s sitting around moping, lonely and hungry.

Yes, the view IS wonderful from the cross — funny you should ask!

I haven’t had a dining set since, well, I think 2003 when I moved from my first apartment in Alexandria, Va., to the second. I got rid of the chairs (Maddie had destroyed them) and kept the table. The table served many appetizers over the course of many parties quite well. But when I left Virginia in 2006, the table and the couch stayed behind.

It took me until about 2008 to replace the couch, and now 2010 for the dining set. It’s not that I have been searching for the perfect pieces but, rather, spending that much money in one transaction sends me diving toward paper bags to regulate my breathing.

Besides, I’d rather book one of those $150 Palm-Beach-to-Atlantis weekend cruises and spend four times that on booze for two days. (That’d be for three glasses of wine. Total.) I’m more about investing in experiences, in technology, in trips to Marshall’s for purses and dresses.

There are four chairs with this set. One for me, for Kadie, for Laura and for George. Like one of my beloveds said yesterday, “Oh, wow, a dining room for all the meals you WON’T be having with the UEOEH!”

I just figured it would be an impetus to get all the boxes out of the dining room. Which, worked sort of magically and I threw away 12 boxes yesterday. Score! Eight thousand more to go! (99% are NOT mine.)

It wasn’t that expensive, but I do go nuts when I make any kind of purchase. It’s a carry-over from my not-employed days (six years ago!). Oy. I remember investing in my apartment back then and, of course, all the tags had been ripped off of all the new stuff when the income ran out. That was great fun.

But I always try to buy something significant to mark milestones in my life. This was a purchase I’ve needed to make for a while, yes. But I also made a major decision for the business that circumvented emotion and friendship and was truly in the best interest of the company. It was a grown-up moment. So I deserve a grown-up dining room. Damn it!

And of course, after this minor expenditure, the car rewarded me by stalling out at the drive-thru today. I went to Mickey D’s for a diet Coke and the car started drifting in reverse. It had never done that before! I didn’t know what to do. Of course, I figured it out REAL quick. But it was no rush — it took 33 minutes to get to the pickup window from the order screen. Apparently they were frying up one McNugget at a time or something!

I’ve had my phone off all weekend. Every time I turn it on to send a text, I am amazed at how many calls I’ve missed. Popular, I never dreamed I was. I’m not answering. Not in the mood. Not even listening to the pile of messages. Frankly, save for an hour on the computer today at work, I am out of commission till tomorrow morning.

I’m also laying low on Facebook. Seriously, I need a break. Not from the world, nor from everyone. Just a few people. It’s like my mom — I got a text from her the other day telling me “I miss us!” and I refrained from saying, “I miss you living four hours away!” I just have to bite my tongue and wait it out till I can choke out a few minutes of getting along.

“Sad boy, you stare up at the sky
When no one’s looking back at you.
You wear your every last disguise;
You’re flying, then you fall through.

Again, the false attention.
Again, you’re breaking inside.
Love save the empty.
Love save the empty, save me.”

I’m getting ready for church now. Apparently Foursquare coronated me the mayor of it. Say hello to the holiest woman in South Florida — the Mother Theresa of the Palm Beaches. I half-wonder whether the only reason I’m going is to retain my title. 😉 There’s no message tonight — just music. And that sounds pretty much like the perfect end to a stressful week and weekend to me!

So, I had to let another employee go this week. Just call me the hatchet lady!

I didn’t do the firing. But I made the decision. And the case for it.

My boss often remarks about my incredible threshold for pain. And I’ve told her that, look, I do have boundaries that are far and wide … but I do have them. And once I’m past them, look out world!

I got shoved to said boundaries about a week ago. I found my way back. And got catapulted over them once and for all.

It’s one thing to get rid of someone whose mug shot appears in your inbox one week to the day that you fire them (like the last instance. *ahem*), but it’s harder when you actually have a vested interest in someone both on and off company time.

No, it’s nothing like *that*, but when you put your neck out for someone, you don’t want to need a brace for said neck, either.

I’m not assigning fault. I don’t think it’s necessary to even say it should be shared — I just don’t think there’s any in general. It’s like putting a Gemini and a Sagittarius in a room together … either the opposites will love each other, or it just won’t work at all. The end.

I don’t have any hard feelings. It’s more that I have no feelings left other than a strange mixture of exhaustion and relief.

And THAT is what made my decision. The, “What do you mean, I don’t have to do this? For real? Well, score!”

And yet, I still thought of alternatives to parting ways. But when I presented said alternatives, it was the reaction I was unprepared for.

Instead of, “What can we do to fix this?” or “You know, I really appreciate you going the extra mile here,” it was basically, “Fuck you, and the horse you rode in on.”

Enter the catapult over the pain-threshold line. I still don’t think I’ve landed yet.

Also enter two late-night texts requesting final favors, and I don’t think I am going to turn my phone back on for a week. I had agreed with myself to keep it off for the weekend (save for making arrangements to meet people), but I’m ready to call AT&T and tell them to disconnect my service!

Anyway, I went to a lovely birthday party last night, and I fell in love with my friend’s new townhouse. I hate townhouses, and I hate the part of town she lives in, but I could totally see myself loving that kind of house.

I would miss my balcony that hangs over the Intracoastal. And the fact that I can see the ocean from my living room. But the bitchy landlady here can keep the ants and all the other problems that she threatens eviction over when I ask her to fix them.

I e-mailed the townhouse community to say that if they could find me that layout with a view of water, sign my ass up for the next-available unit.

I know a car is my next purchase. But seeing a pretty house! With furniture and not boxes everywhere! warmed my little heart. I don’t spend any time at home so I don’t give a shit what it looks like. But I want to start caring again. I spend too much money on real estate to justify all the time I spend AWAY from it.

What would I do with the UEOEH? Well, her life would be in less jeopardy from me booting her butt into the large body of water below us. 🙂 I doubt she’d want to live in the townhouse because of the stairs. That would give me a PERFECT excuse to ship her ass back to Pittsburgh.

I still think I’m destined to live in Baltimore. And that the only real value to living in South Florida is to be in a town that ends in the word “Beach.” But if there’s one thing I learned from the latest employee brou-ha-ha, it’s that I am not forced at gunpoint to fulfill ANY relationship I enter. And the moment it feels that way, is the signal to get the fuck out of it ASAP.

Dear Chronic Ass-Pains,

This week is sponsored by junk-punches and bloody nut sacks. I swear, people are on my LAST nerve.

Let me say this. If I offer to help you — AND I DO — and you STILL don’t find it enough? I’m putting down the bat and not going up to it for you anymore. In fact, I may just walk over to you and PAT YOU ON THE HEAD WITH IT.

Love,
Goddess