Caterwauling

I would never make Steve Jobs run for president. I like him too much. I respect his innovations. And if the man needs to take a sick leave, let him do it. Lord knows our president probably hasn’t slept since he started campaigning for his crazy job. Brilliance requires rest.

Now that said, the esteemed Mr. Jobs needs to head up a finance committee in the legislative arm of his choice, seeing as though Apple ($AAPL) has more cash than the U.S. government.

Now, he’s a smart one, that Steve. Apple isn’t doing much differently from its early days. It just employs a lot more people in a lot more places. But the “think tank” that keeps cranking out the “Oh my God I’ve GOT to have it!” products (says she who is contemplating whether having the new MacBook is more important than rent. Just assure me that it will ship with Lion, and that answer is YES!) is still strategically issuing its brilliance at full price to a growing cult of worshipers.

It gives me pause to say the stock is still a steal here at $400, since you won’t catch me being able to buy much more than a call contract or two. I don’t think this name is the next Berkshire Hathaway, but I do think it’s going to hold its own in this range for the intermediate term.

Everyone wonders whether AAPL is going to issue a dividend, what with all that cash in the bank. And all I have to say is, “Yeah, right!”

What Jobs gets right, that our legislators never will, is spending money on the right things and letting the rest go. Everyone who’s crying (not-so-subtle Boehner reference) that the space program has been abandoned, or that the couple million that goes to a bunch of social programs should be eliminated before, say, Steve Jobs himself pays a cent more in taxes, ought to look at Apple’s business model before drafting up the next round of spending cuts.

At Apple, you don’t have customers — you have fanatics. You don’t have buyers — you have people who camp out all night just to be the first to pay full retail price. You don’t have investors — you have people who need this stock even if they still cling to their tattered-after-two-years PCs.

You have to spend money to make money, but paying a dividend isn’t necessary to bring in more money. Steve Job pays the top minds in technology to keep him on top. Congress pays a nice salary to a bunch of mildly qualified people (in addition to the truly brilliant legislators, who are unfortunately far outnumbered) and sure doesn’t cut THEIR health care even as they threaten to take away yours. Let’s weed out the waste, starting with our Congress critters themselves, and treat America as the high-quality product it is. And that includes taxing its highest-paid citizens at the same rate as the rest of us. Apple doesn’t give away its products, and nobody’s holding their breath waiting for them to go on sale. Nor should our country be on sale, either.

Maybe if we put Jobs in charge of one of the finance committees, that would finally convince Obama to get rid of his damn BlackBerry already?

Crocodile crossing

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

All right all you dream analysts out there. Riddle me this: What does it mean when you dream every single night of traveling?

A couple nights ago, I dreamed I had a flight connection in Seattle. My friends Lachlan and Bayou came to the airport to meet me. And then we all decided to go somewhere else together. We had a blast.

Last night, I dreamed I got back to Baltimore to see my “kids” (my staff that I absolutely loved. Everyone above me feared us all joining up and starting a revolution against them. Silly management). And then we all went up to New York City, where I got to party with Jon Bon Jovi.

What will tonight hold? I can’t wait to find out. Maybe I’ll nap during the evening webinar we’re hosting. *snooze*

I’m starting to get sick over an assignment coming my way. It’s actually part of one I already do, so it’s not like there’s a large cash windfall coming with it. Meanwhile there IS a new assignment that I LOVE doing but I never have time for.

I need to man up and do the new assignment at night. But I really don’t want to get into the work-around-the-clock days again.

I never took a stand for myself in my life, and I don’t think now is the time to piss parameters around my free time. As I find myself back on the trajectory that nearly killed me the first time around, can I be brave enough to say no and risk having nothing … or do I try to do it all and REALLY put my health and happiness squarely in harm’s way?

Where I need to live

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Don’t mind me, I’m just dreaming of the Keys right now. Aaaaahhh.

So, yesterday? Sucked. Everybody who could possibly annoy me did. The e-mail blew up overnight. I did what I could. It was an intense day. There was a LOT left undone.

Today is a day for creativity and catch-up, but it’s always filled with worry and watchfulness of the e-mail box. Especially for the shit that DIDN’T get done yesterday … that I sorta kinda hope will quietly go away. (Did I just say that out loud?)

There are certain people that you can’t pay me enough to deal with. And my feeling is, if there is no pay, I DON’T have to deal with them, right?

Oh, I just wish I were more productive right now. That would solve everything. There’s so much to do and I really don’t want to give up my “island mentality” of “only” working 8 hours a day.

Question of the year: How do you motivate yourself to work harder when your brain doesn’t want to function at all?

‘Stuck’ in traffic

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

My life is good. It really is.

The thing about social media is that you tend to find yourself in a dither because “everyone else” is supposedly living the good life.

But … two things:

1. They’re actually being pretty honest about the things they’re struggling with (kids, cancer, etc.).

2. I’m the asshole posting pics of MY fabulous little life … because it IS.

So this week I was thrilled to have something to deposit into the ol’ account. And you would think that, with money in the bank, I’d feel better, yes? That rent time is coming up and I HAVE IT. Woo!

But no, not really. I found myself shaking as I made the deposit, partially hoping the checks clear and mostly hoping the money LASTS till the next batch arrives, whenever that may be.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt secure. It’s a total lack of faith; I know it. I guess I’ve just seen God forsake better people than me, and it’s very hard to assume He will bail out my ungrateful ass when His most-earnest followers have gone from rearing kids with disabilities to finding a tumor to getting a divorce — and that’s just ONE person.

Yeah, my life is small. But it’s mine and I really do love it.

Having the Uber Mega Super Dooper Ultra Heavy-Flow-Day houseguest-type person is a double-edged sword. I often swear that the only reason any grace is shown to me is because I have to live with Debbie Downer. I can never have a mood so good that it can’t completely fizzle within three minutes of being at home.

I love her — I do. I may want to go all Casey Anthony on her sometimes, but every once in a while I’ll be overcome with a wave of appreciation for something she says or does. And besides, I could have otherwise spent my living years with some dopey ass man whose every little word or action aggravates the shit out of me. So, in the lottery of life, I could have done far worse.

Anyway, I say all of this because of all the tragedy happening in the world in the past 24 hours. The bombing and then mass shooting OF CHILDREN in Norway. The shooting at a roller rink in Texas. The Russian riverboat that sank. The train crash in China. Even more deaths in Afghanistan. This alone accounts for, like 250 gone. At least.

That doesn’t even include Amy Winehouse’s passing, which is about the only thing dominating social media right now. Which is just a damn shame (the death, not the fact that people who know nothing about her are judging her), given that she had more talent at 27 — and got to do what she LOVED for a living — than the rest of us will experience in a lifetime.

So yeah, I haven’t been in the “wrong place at the wrong time.” I didn’t lose any of my life (or all of it) to addiction. I didn’t marry wrong or get saddled with kids I know I wouldn’t have been able to parent. I have my health and a fair portion of my sanity. Plus, I have what’s left of my youth. I’m not 60 and having an identity crisis — I’m still at a point where, if things suck, I can change them.

If Charlie Sheen can proclaim that he’s #winning and then go and get a new TV show, well damn then. At the very least, I can wake up every day and look forward to tomorrow, right?

O She of Little Faith, take a look around and appreciate it every day, mmmkay? Get that new laptop and take it to the Keys and never, ever look back. Other people have WAY BIGGER problems than you. Keep praying for them and keep thanking God for everything you have and, best of all, everything you DON’T.

Tropical and Awesome

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

The weather is Tropical and the surf conditions are Awesome. Truth in advertising, for once!

Next week is going to become stupid-busy for me, so I’m enjoying these final few hours of quietude. I got a check I’ve been expecting for a while (woo hoo!) and an unexpected bonus from somewhere else. (WOO HOO!)

Momma needs a laptop, and all the new sexy MacBooks have just come out. But Momma’s Momma needs a whole lot more, and I need to take care of her first.

Oh, if only I could sustain this revenue stream instead of hyperventilating every month around this time. I can afford the new ‘puter, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll be skipping happily to the bank at this time next month.

In any event, I need to say what I want so I can get it. I’ve found myself both returning to the same old work I did years ago, and returning to the same shitty eating habits (and lack of exercise) as well. So I’m basically back in the same place as I was in 2008. Grrr.

No more of that crap. I am declaring my intentions. I want a house in the Keys. I want a six-figure salary. I want Mom to be happy and healthy and ON HER OWN. I want a car that doesn’t answer to the name “Rattling Deathtrap.” I want a good-looking, ambitious and financially secure man.

I’d also like a cosmic tour bus to run over Allen West. And for a space shuttle to fly up Rick Perry’s butt. And for Michele Bachmann’s husband to find a more-appropriate spouse (like the Nyan Cat).

Really, is it so much to ask?

Spun sugar

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I played hooky yesterday.

One could argue that you can’t play hooky when you don’t work, but even the first day after the Evil Empire booted my fat ass to the curb, I was on the phone and polishing up my resume and treating the job search as a job.

These days, I’m back to being “alert girl,” which was why I was so eager to leave D.C. in the first place. (Read: Tied to the computer, ready to pounce the moment somebody needed to publish something because everything in this business is timely.)

There are even more alerts coming my way, which means job security. It also means, “Hunh. I came so far in the last few years. Isn’t this regressing a bit?”

But it pays. Unlike the one job that keeps throwing shit at me to do and I ain’t had a check since April. I hear one is in the mail. I hear.

My personal policy is to go on strike after two months of non-compensation, especially at the low rate I charge. It was already like a volunteer job and I already gave twice as many hours as I contracted for. I like the people (well, the owner, not necessarily the person I deal directly with).

I haven’t checked my mail in a day and I’m afraid to. (*hold me*) I forgot about taking vacation days — coming back is the worst. I have over 200 new e-mails. Most of which are probably just shitty e-letters from shitty e-publishers, I hope. 🙂

Anyway, so yeah, I spent the day with my favorite Floridian-turned-Philadelphian. (Oh, forget it — she’ll always be my Jersey Girl!) We went on a mission to find the place where she will get married. And after going all over creation and exploring every island within a 50-mile radius, we found it.

It was rather hilarious, listening to all these wedding planners grilling her on her chosen date. (Which is very soon.) Everyone wanted her to be flexible. But they didn’t say that. At one place, it was, “Well, why is that your date? No, really, why is that your date?”

My friend’s answer, “Because I’m the damn bride, that’s why!”

But when we finally found the place and came to an agreement on all the terms, the answer suddenly became (in the car of course because she’s too nice to say that to people’s faces):

“Because I’m the bride, BITCH!”

Confidence becomes her. 😉

Seriously, I am so happy I got to go with her. We lost a lot of “friend time” after I quit the Crack Den of Iniquity and went to work for the Evil Empire. I didn’t want to have the King Crackhead grilling my old friends on my whereabouts — I felt it better that the fewer people who had any information on me, the better for THEM.

Anyway, I guess I have to start looking for a party dress. Or maybe quit eating and fit into the dozen or two that I already own.

This day out was good for me, though. These days, I pray to God with gratitude that I can pay the rent. I don’t ask for much else. I figure that if I just ask for the basics (and maybe some extra favor for Mom) that’s enough. I don’t want to push my luck.

But I need more. I need friends and things to look forward to. I can’t live isolated in my apartment with my overextended unemployed houseguest for the rest of my life with absolutely no light at the end of this loooonnnng tunnel.

I’m hoping to meet a handsome stranger at this party of the year. Maybe I’ll put that on the prayer list too. I’d be such a happier person if I had a reason to live beyond publishing alerts that only generate fifty fucking customer service e-mails apiece that I then have to deal with.

God, it’s time for bigger things. I’m ready. So very ready.

Sunset Grille

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Had to work Saturday morning but I got to spend 24 glorious hours in the Keys with the best friends a girl could ask for.

We had a host of things to celebrate — our fantastic, favorite, fabulous Philadelphian (whom I won’t insult by spelling any “F” words with “Ph” — I wouldn’t do that to my favorite former Florida girl. Anyway…) — flew down to visit our friend who just moved to the Keys. And the other two of us who still live on the mainland came down to surprise her.

We have so much to celebrate — a new home (with the Gulf of Mexico as the backyard!), two engagements, a string of birthdays and, well, awesome friendships.

Seriously, there was so much happiness I could just shit. 😉

We ate (brie-stuffed filet mignon for me), we drank (three, or maybe it was four, coconut mojitos — again, for me), we didn’t sleep but we greeted the sunset over the Florida Straits and the sunrise over the Gulf. There may have been another meal in there and some swimming for our earliest arrival and then shopping (and drinking Baby’s Coffee just outside Key West) for the last of us to leave. What more does a girl need?

I read somewhere that optimistic people lose weight faster than depressed people. I wonder if the corollary (or whatever fancy-schmancy word fits here) would hold true, then, that depressed people fatten up faster? Because the shrimp and cheese omelet at the Stuffed Pig and pie from the Key West Key Lime Pie Co. went to my ass faster than a normal person’s, I swear!

I want to move to the Keys. The pace is slow, the people are sweet, the island life is so detached from the mainland that it’s like being in a different country.

But I wonder whether I would grow to take it for granted. Or go nuts because civilization isn’t a 10-minute drive away (since I already live on the beach but in a way-more-populated area).

But then you look at a sunset like this, and know that any commute you have is on a highway like the one pictured, and it’s no wonder that the literary figures who also served as the characters in “Midnight in Paris” inhabited this charming area. I wouldn’t mind being the next Hemingway (without the tragic, gory demise, of course).

This is my happy place. I can’t wait to go back. Next weekend, anyone? 😉

Reflections, Atlanta

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Oh, freelance life. How you suck sometimes.

Since one company just can’t pay right now, I figured I wouldn’t work on their stuff, at least for today.

Today of course was the day that the phone, e-mail, text and Skype would not cease ringing from that camp. *sigh* So of course I had to put out all those fires. Eight hours that were supposed to go elsewhere … to people who know how to write a check.

I suck at time management. I really do. I honest to God don’t know how I’m going to do everything I took on. Everybody’s got their ass on fire. And I know I tend to have my creative bursts at the last minute, but every minute BEING the last minute is pretty hard to work against.

I think I actually worked harder when I was employed, truth be told. But it was easier when everyone knew the workload and could stay away; this juggling of different people and projects is making me wonder whether I can get that damn Paxil prescription renewed.

But I’m having as much fun as I can. Sure beats having to sit in meetings 25 hours a week and pretend I don’t want to slice my wrists vertically with an X-Acto knife.

Lord give me strength. And extra hours in the day. And, maybe if I’m REALLY good, the ability to reach through the computer and smack the shit out of someone, even if it’s just their avatar and they’ll never feel it. 🙂

Margaret Mitchell’s ‘Gone With the Wind’ Manuscript

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Not just an anthemic song for the working poor, but my declaration. I don’t want to work. That could be why I ain’t got no job. 😉

I’m chasing after a couple of clients for about four grand in back pay right now. It is just not fair that they are traveling the world and I’m counting myself as lucky enough to afford Wal-Mart yogurt. Seriously.

I have piles of work to do though. I am not going to jeopardize my back pay by not working now. This is fun. Not.

Bottom line — I don’t 100% trust anyone that there will be pay given after services rendered. And frankly, everything cuts into my “sitting on my ass” time, which I’d rather be doing if I’m not making money.

Whatever happened to the girl who worked around the clock (certainly for no additional pay) just to impress?

So in other news, I now have three — wait, four! — friends who got engaged in the last couple weeks. I couldn’t be more thrilled for all of them. They all found fantastic men and will have great lives with them.

And don’t get me started on gay marriage legalization. Great — even more reasons to feel sorry for oneself for being single. I can’t even claim to be gay anymore!

I’m trying not to have the pity party here. I know I could have gotten married here or there. No, no proposals or rings to my name or anything (damn!). But I know I could have been shacked up with someone other than my mother by now. Or, more likely, very happily divorced. 😉

Speaking of, a voice from my LONG ago past sent me a note this morning. He chased me for a while in college. Then he moved to the city I always wanted to live in. We lost touch till the miracle of Facebook brought us back together.

The story is short. We talked a lot. Made plans for me to visit. And when I finally said OK, I will be there for New Year’s Eve on whatever year, and I’m gonna go buy the train ticket, somebody evaporated from the earth … until after New Year’s.

He tried reaching out a couple times after that. Like nothing had happened. (Well, I guess THAT is fairly accurate.) I quit answering those calls. Fade to black.

Anyway, I just got a note from him saying he’d love to reconnect. I’m sure he does. I’m sure he, like me, is still single and confounded as to why. (I could share a few hints…)

I wish him well. I really do. I don’t think there’s been anyone who’s ever been in my heart against whom I would turn unless they did something REALLY hideous.

But I don’t know if I will take him up on that offer to reconnect, either. This whole “Wizard of Oz” business of everybody showing up someplace else has run its course. And unless someone’s gonna jump on a plane and sweep me off my feet (HIGHLY unlikely in his case), a nice Facebook exchange now and then is enough.

Seriously, I just wanna write my novels and have my friends and exes and even my enemies show up as characters. I imagine that I remember the best versions of them — I get my heart broken enough without the added stress of finding out that I might have been wrong. I get enough of that grief in the professional world.

Anyway, Imma try to fill my heart with love and light and do a project today that I can’t do during the workweek. And I will try not to think about just what might have happened if I’d gotten on that train, good or bad, anyway…

A window, a river and a crossroads

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

So what if I’m beating the horse as it’s being processed at the glue factory?

Everyone’s telling me it’s time to let go. I know that. But if it were me, I sure as hell wouldn’t want the world going back to normal 24 hours later. I’d want an advocate, damn it. As many of them as I could get!

Perhaps as proof of my altered state, I wrote to Nancy Grace. (I know, WTF, right?) I am shocked to say has grown on me in the last two months. BOMBSHELL! 😉

Anyway, I said thanks for pushing for justice for Caylee Anthony — now it’s time to move on and give a voice to the rest of those who don’t have one.

I know Foghorn Leghorn Cheney Mason faults the woman for beating the drum for three solid years and, probably, until the end of time. But irritating though she may be, she has the ability to give people the smackdown in a way the rest of us can only envy.

In an ideal world, I wish I had her advocating for my mom. Maybe she wouldn’t be so sick and in so much pain all the time — she deserves to be well and to live FAR more than “Tot Mom” does.

That’s what I’m maddest about. That four therapists have offered to help the psychopath from Orlando. How about somebody donating some services to someone who isn’t famous?

I don’t have kids. I could, of course. I’ve employed all forms of population control and, therefore, don’t. And I worry if would be as bad a mother as Casey was. I don’t do a lot but I don’t want to have to give that little bit up. Plain and simple.

Caylee became America’s little girl and, thus, mine. I fell in love with her. But the thing we all have to remember is that child, in death, became more-loved than she ever was in life.

I wish we could spotlight the good parents, as well as the people who give their children to better homes where they’re wanted. I hate it that we focus on the crazies.

But that’s just it — I’m sure my Extra Ultra Mega Uber Extended Houseguest from Outer Space has given me FAR more reason to put her on the Space Shuttle than Casey had reason to kill Caylee. I know my ass would FRY if I did what she did.

Of course, now that murder has been declared legal in Florida as of July 5 (verdict day), well, maybe I have some protection under “Florida v. Anthony.” I could only hope for a similar set of jurors who don’t understand that “thinking she did it” does NOT mean “not guilty.” 🙂

Anyway, friends, I won’t be a vigilante for that homely hobag to the north. Although she said she wants to move to South Florida — maybe we can send her to Little Havana (in Miami) and strap a $50 to her (with Henkel duct tape, of course) and see what happens.

And I won’t be tossing the Mega Uber roommate into a swamp, either. But none of this will ever stop me from praying for a world where everyone will be wanted and loved, at any age and in all circumstances.

Too bad my pudgy pork roast ass is too big for me to run for Miss America. I want world peace, damn it!