Caterwauling

My lovely bride friend

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I stayed away from the computer and my imaginary princes and went to a true fairytale wedding this weekend.

My beautiful bride friend has had me tagging along with her since the beginning — from picking the place all the way through to the cake tasting. The hotel staff treated me as a guest of honor even though all I did was go along for the ride.

But may I just say, I’ve lost a lot of faith in love and hope and humanity through the years, and just this one night gave it all back to me … and then some. I never dreamed all this existed. Or that it could happen for me, too. And I really want it to.

Seeing two people who are truly made for each other, with the perfect wedding day despite the torrential downpours that canceled out their beachside ceremony, taught me that the sun shines if you let it. As one of my brilliant companions said to me, “The sun is shining wherever she is,” about our lovely, beaming bride.

At the reception, I had the opportunity to connect with some people I loved and, by my own choosing, lost. Silly, I know. But the environment in which I had left them was treacherous. Cutting ties was, I figured, for their benefit. But in the end, what happened was we lost a year and a half of friendship. And that shit ends here.

And a couple of those friends placed me right back on my pedestal, which made me woozy after being knocked down so much and for so long. I forgot how nice the view was … how special people really thought I was. All I do anymore is doubt myself and, unfortunately, screw up accordingly in support of my poor mental mapping.

What can I say? I am my own crown of thorns. (Hat-tip to Sandra Bullock in “Hope Floats” there.)

My update on my three princes is such that I still have the first one on bended knee, but not for long. The carriage turns back into a pumpkin today unless I say otherwise.

The faraway prince asked me to stall the ready prince for two weeks. He ain’t proposing till he’s ready.

The third prince whom I dearly love is hoping to hit the lottery in the meantime.

I know it’s the next (big) step in my career. But when it all comes down to it, isn’t it just a job? I can’t quite figure it out. This means everything to me right now. I have to pick right. I also have to pick soon. Can our princess get everything she wants?

To complicate matters, wouldn’t you know it that our princess has been offered three dates in the meantime?

I seriously don’t get polygamy on the relationship front, and I don’t know how the hell to handle it professionally. But I do hope to get married and keep one or two boytoys on the side. Professionally, of course. Shit, I can’t even get one good man, let alone find three at once! Not that that will stop me from looking. …

Today will bring resolution one way or another. I just need one more piece of information before I can knock over the first domino. And then, there ain’t no undoing it. You’d think I’d be grateful for the time of rest (er, unrest), but I’m ready to let go, let God, and get out of the way.

So … say our heroine had three suitors. And had to choose one of them without having enough information about all of them to feel truly good about her decision.

Perhaps the best metaphor here is that our princess goddess has some wedding proposals to consider and, yet, she hasn’t slept with any of them. (Suspension of disbelief is integral to this exercise!)

Put yourself in her glass slippers for a moment…

Do you pick the nice guy who lives really far away … the guy who reminds you of someone else (both good and bad) who is at least within driving distance … or wait till the awesome guy can afford a ring (and assume he won’t propose without one and you’ll be waiting till the end of time)?

If this were fiction and money weren’t an issue, I’d wait for the prince behind Door No. 3. But money is an issue and one prince is on bended knee and I need to figure out whether the faraway prince can get to that point, um, today.

Either way, I will stay in touch with the third prince … maybe a second marriage is in store. Or, at least, an affair. 😉

Of course, this is what worries me. I have had enough damn divorces. I want to have kids with the next one. (Oh wait, I hate kids. Let me rephrase that.) I want a happily ever after the next time around.

So which of the first two princes can provide me that? And can the first one remain on bended knee till the carrier pigeon gets to the other one, or will I be in danger of becoming a spinster if they all move on without me?

I have this very clear memory of being about 5 years old, at our little rowhouse in the ghetto (*deep sigh*), planting apple seeds in hopes of growing an apple tree from them.

I very distinctly recall an invisible being — a spirit guide, if you will — coming up to me and hovering around my left side as I dug in the dirt. (Something I wasn’t allowed to do, but oh well.) He asked me a question that to this day manages to disturb me when I think about it.

The spirit wanted to know that, if I had my choice and had to hurt, would I rather it be physical or emotional?

Maybe I was older than five, or maybe he used words I would have understood at the time, since that’s a loaded question at my current age. But I must have recently gotten a gash or a bruise, because I remember saying, “In my mind, so nobody sees it!”

(My family did not like me doing anything that would result in me being less than perfect. I’m guessing that’s where THAT shit stems from.)

The spirit said OK and left me. I forgot about it till a few years ago. And I often wonder not only why I had to choose, but did I choose correctly?

I think I did. I like having functioning limbs, although the diminished mental capacity from the clusterfuck that is my life hasn’t exactly done wonders for my well-being. I’m tired of being hurt, exhausted, unhappy, frustrated and always longing for something that’s … I dunno … NOT THIS.

I’ve had plenty of interactions with the spirit world since then. No psychic revelations, unfortunately — I’d be too happy to get those. (Dear Higher Self, when am I going to get a job? Please I will give anything to get out of this HELL that we call freelancing. Oh my GOD please make the pain and non-paying clients just STOP already.)

Worth a shot, eh?

I probably made the whole thing up in my head, but I remember everything about the scene. And for what it’s worth, I don’t have it so bad. But it needs to get better from here. I can’t accept any alternatives to that. Spirit guides, let’s go easy on the questions next time and go a little heavier on telling me what I SHOULD be doing, OK?

My manifesto

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

So, I came up with this manifesto a while back. Since life is going every which way but right, I decided that if I didn’t set goals — and eliminate any activity that does nothing to further them — I’d be in for more of the same madness.

Thus far, it seems to be working. I burned a little sage and even I’m surprised at just how much change a person can endure in a very short amount of time.

This is actually the second incarnation of my list. “Loving what I do” was fourth on the list. But now, as I am currently in a mad interviewing frenzy, I can see my future. Well, more accurately, I can see my PAST, re-manifesting if I were to take certain paths.

At this point, I have no offers or any certainty of one coming through. There are so many pros and cons that are clouding my brain for each. In a way, I am seeing my familiar old pattern creeping in, of “throwing” the process so that I don’t have to deal with having to decide whether to turn down something.

And I know, I KNOW, my job is to get to the offer stage. Because I’m living the alternative, and it ain’t fun anymore.

On the other hand, not needing dress clothes has been nice. Not filling up the gas tank regularly has saved a lot of money, too. Hanging around the house has been kind of awesome. I mean, there’s something to be said for the isolationist lifestyle.

On the other hand, I’ve missed people. Not many, mind you — and certainly not certain types you find absolutely everywhere, and all you have to do is change the name and not much else. But sitting in my living room, watching the ocean waves roll by hasn’t exactly opened me up to a world of new contacts.

But the thing is, I can’t afford to choose wrong this time. Minus the job I had in D.C. that ate up every available minute of my life (which is the one I count as the “best job ever” — work THAT out in your head about the rest), everything else has been a fizzle.

I find myself not pulling any punches when I talk to people now. Yes, I want a job. No, I don’t want to be unhappy. If I’m going to run into battles and impossible situations, I don’t think I’m your girl. But if you can promise (and I’ll take a promise, at this point) that I’ll be proud of myself and part of a good team, let’s continue the conversation, please.

I want the place where I’ll spend the next five to 10 years. I don’t want to do any more of this, “Well, I’ll put in my year.”

Of course, I’m also feeling like I don’t know crap about anything anymore. Maybe working at home has meant I’ve lost my edge. It’s been 10 months — it’s like I took an extended maternity leave and I’m coming back to find that the business world has gone on without me.

I told a dear friend last night that, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I might not be smart enough to work at X.” And she was blown away, saying, “I can’t believe the day has arrived that ANYONE doesn’t feel smart enough to work at X … least of all, you.”

And that flips my shit. Really? Me? Not good enough? What have I let people DO to me throughout the past few years? Am I THAT uncertain about my own achievements and capabilities that I don’t even feel like trying to do this anymore?

My hope is that, by this time next month, I will have gotten offers and decided well. Of course, if that is NOT the case, I guess I will live and be looking for something else, eh?

My wish list is that I want to work somewhere local (read: health coverage). I want to be close to the Keys so I can spend the occasional weekend there until I can relocate. I want to stay active in the stock markets and maybe make enough money to TRADE in those markets.

But … I want to spend time with my momma and my kitty. I don’t want to be holed up somewhere and not know how things are here. I need to buy health insurance for her (fucking county keeps rejecting us for free coverage) and I will need to take her to doctors. That’s hard to do when you are new and just can’t get away.

Then there are the other opportunities that aren’t so nearby. I am looking around and thinking, gah. If I have to move, how does that get me to the Keys? Or is that a dream I put on hold for a little while … LIKE I DO WITH EVERY DREAM I’VE EVER HAD?

There’s still the work-from-home route. But I don’t think my widdle heart can handle the money stress … and tax time will kill me. I’m pretty sure I paid half of what Warren Buffett did last year, and he made $62 million and I didn’t. I used every dime of what I’ve made. Momma needs a way to raise some cash in the meantime to pay Uncle Sam so that the other 99% don’t have to miss out on their annual Maserati upgrade.

Look, I feel better that I have opportunities to speak of. I mean, statistically, something’s got to work, right? Of course, I’m in the state with the fifth-highest unemployment number, so I know to be grateful.

I just need to be spectacular, which is hard right now. But they need to be spectacular right back, you know? I’m not giving anyone “my year” — they’re getting my heart. But I can’t go back to 100-hour workweeks, either.

My resume may say I worked one year here or nine months there, but nobody counts the hours worked nor those shaved off my life from the stress.

I know there’s no perfect workplace. I tried that this year. I worked with people I loved and got to call the shots and be creative and do mah thing. But in the end, the money isn’t there. And I’ve got a WHOLE new loyalty and respect for those who take that heart and hand over a shiny, glorious check on the day they say it’s coming.

I figure, I’ve sacrificed plenty in this life. My mental health is all I have left. And God will make everything happen the way it needs to happen. My hope is that I have my choice in the matter, and this handy-dandy lil’ list is going to be my one and only guide to making that decision, and making these things happen.

Cuban Coffee Queen

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

So, I guess it’s fair to say I have a lot of proverbial irons in the proverbial fire right now. Nothing is guaranteed. Nothing is close to perfect. Even if everything comes through, the pros equally balance the cons across the board.

I fear what happens should nothing come through. I like this phase, filled with hope and opportunity. Something HAS to work out, you know? It’s statistically impossible for not a blessed thing to work out. (Of course, now that I’ve said that, I’ve made God laugh. Didn’t I?)

I escaped to the Keys this weekend to clear my addled brain. It helped. Although I think I left my brain there. Perhaps I should go back and get it? 😉

I asked my mom a question the other day, whether it’s that I’m too smart or too dumb to succeed. I’m not quite sure what the answer is. All I know is that there ain’t a lot of success going on right now.

Even though I cut my workload in half to be commensurate with the pay I am bringing in, I still find myself working a lot. Yeah, the Internet is always slow (or out) and I want to scream at how long it takes to do the least-complex tasks. But I wonder whether I’m also dragging out the small amount of work to fill these very long days.

Tonight I have to research a topic I don’t support at all, and write three articles on it. Ask me how much fucking fun I’m having at the extra work for my silly flat fee.

But tonight I went out with mom and we did our little charity project together. That’s fun. It’s a small distraction from Everything Else. It’s nice to make a tiny difference where I can, and anonymously at that.

I’ve been grappling a little bit with grace and karma today. On our way out the door, an elderly gentleman here accosted me to get me to sign a petition to reinstate the Evil Landlady, who got fired two weeks ago.

*hahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa*

I know he had the hots for her so I can see why he would want the bitch back. I, on the other hand, have suffered undue amounts because of her negligence and nastiness, so HELL NO I don’t want her back.

Case in point, I got a package today from one of my author friends who sent me a signed book. Normally, I would never have gotten the package because I didn’t know it was coming. Only if I visited three times, prayed to the moon, danced a jig and produced a delivery confirmation, I MIGHT have gotten the package within the month.

But today, I got a note under my door announcing the package. (Which, they could have KNOCKED and HANDED IT TO ME.)

I went to see the kid in the rental office, and thanked him for letting me know a package had come. He said, and I quote, “Well, since old what’s-her-name took all the resident e-mail addresses, it was the only way I could think of to tell you that something had come for you.”

Old what’s-her-name. *snort*

I glanced at the old guy’s petition. It looked like he had signed a bunch of different names in different ink colors. They were all in the same large, slanted script. I’m guessing his petition hasn’t gotten a lot of support.

I was honest with him. I said that I’ve lived in places where the manager went above and beyond to help me. And here, simple courtesies or expected maintenance was laughed at repeatedly. So, thanks, but no I really don’t want to put my name on a cause that I don’t believe in.

He went OFF on me. YELLING OVER ME. That nothing was her fault and she did her best. I tried to interject that I agree — who the hell would WANT to run this albatross? Isn’t she happier without being responsible for Amityville anymore?

Blah blah more screaming. Mercifully, two other residents came in and I beat it out of there. I did tell him I would consider his request. That’s the best I could do.

Now, we all know I don’t intend to sign it. But as I thought about it, I was tossed out on my ass myself not too long ago. However, I imagine that someone, somewhere may have thought it was a shame … that I at least tried to be helpful and good and take care of people. And I just can’t say the same of her.

Nobody saved me, so there you have it. But then there’s that damn little voice asking me, “Well, maybe you have a chance to make sure someone else doesn’t get as screwed as you did.”

This “being a good person” thing is hard. She deserves nothing from me. I mentally said my goodbyes and wished her well. Can’t it end there? Or is God calling me to be a better person by forgiving her for all the hell and horror she inflicted on us?

Of course, you can’t buy grace. Doing a good deed against my bloody will isn’t going to get me an income I can rely on. It’s not going to heal my mom. It’s not going to write these ridiculous articles that I am appalled I have to lose sleep over.

I don’t want to carry a grudge. If they WOULD consider rehiring old what’s-her-name, I would hate to be complicit in that. That’s like your kidnapper letting you go and you turning back. Hell to the naw.

What would have happened had my job asked me back? Yay salary. (God I miss that part.) But would you really want to go back and always be walking on eggshells?

I don’t know why this bothers me so much. I guess being the windshield while the birds circle you is an altogether too familiar feeling. As a human, I would want to spare another human from that feeling. But as Goddess thinking about how treacherous Evil Landlady has always been, I’m going to have to work on my grace and forgiveness skills.

And frankly, I’ve watched the bitch treat the elderly gentleman who’s fighting for her terribly. Men are so freaking dumb sometimes. All she had to do was toss around her greasy blonde hair and he was hooked all over again. Pity. I’ll bet he thinks this heroic effort on his part will woo her.

And with that, I realize my life feels pretty cruddy right now, sure. But at least maybe it is that I’m smart enough not to succeed, rather than dumb enough. I don’t know. I guess I only have enough left in me to help those who deserve it, and I hope that somewhere someone feels like I deserve their help as well.

So, yeah, no more Evil Landlady. The place doesn’t run any worse without her. And I’m thinking most of the other residents feel the same way. But it does make me realize that even the next person won’t be on my side, either. So, it’s just about my time to go. Ergo, I am thanking God for my exit plan, whatever that may be, because I have to believe it’s on its way.

So …

Not only did a beloved colleague leave this earth on Saturday, but it appears a friend from high school took his own life somewhere between yesterday and today.

The latter is unconfirmed at this point, but I know. I always wondered. I watched his Facebook posts and knew he had a dark sense of humor. But I always wondered whether he were masking something deeper. Yet, I know how annoyed I get every time I say something dark and suddenly everyone jumps on suicide watch. So I never really probed.

I guess I should have.

I’m in the throes of a very acute depression. Look, I know things aren’t great. But I know they’re really not all THAT bad either. All this death isn’t really helping matters, but it’s only the cherry on top of a shit sundae at this point.

The friend we learned about today … damn. Actually a nice, good-looking guy who plays in a band. I ran into him a couple years ago at a hardware store called Busy Beaver. My mother had been scared out of her wits by a giant beaver cut-out and told my friend, who was ringing us up, “Your beaver scared me!”

He and I had a good laugh. Go, Mom. 🙂 He looked good. (I’m a sucker for the long-haired dudes.) He seemed happy enough, working a less-than-stimulating job that freed up his nights to play in his band.

Happy enough, indeed. Aren’t we all, though?

And now I’m seeing all these trite, trite messages posted on his Facebook wall. Sure, you can tell the heartfelt ones. He had some good friends, you can tell. But all the bullshit about “it gets better” and “I wish you would have called me,” I have to say, “Really?”

I mean, when I get down in the dumps and I get those lines, I roll my eyes. Fuck you, you don’t know the whole story. Screw you, just let me work out my sadness and I’ll be OK. Or, really, happy-positive “it’ll be OK” person? Are you just gonna shit some sunshine my way and keep on flying so you don’t have to hear what may or may not be behind whatever hunk of crap I spewed at a particular moment?

I’m not saying this about my friends, mind you. Just, when you open yourself up via social media, you get those people who don’t know you and never will … people who pat themselves on the back for crapping out some platitude … people who credit themselves with saving you from some abyss that you may not even have been contemplating?

I know, I’m going all over the place here. Yes, I have depression and it’s a little more intense right now than usual. No, I’m not jumping off the balcony. Yes, I’m going to say I’m ready to jump. Maybe I’ve contemplated it. No, I could not hoist my pudgy pork roast butt over the railing right now. Yes, I’m hanging in there for better days. No, I don’t know when they’re coming. Yes, I’ve talked to God about everything, and thanked Him for all His grace up till now and the grace I’ll receive in the future.

Anyway, I guess what I AM saying is that I’ve never been one to say the right thing to someone’s family when they die, because I don’t know what to say. Nor have I been particularly good at mitigating suicidal thoughts of others. I’m the friend you call when you want to vent about how bad things are without me interrupting too much. I’ll shoulder the load with you. I’ll share my hope that this ain’t as good as it gets. And I’ll tell you I love you no matter what your heart says to do, and that my phone is on any old time you need it.

A friend recently mused to me that she’s never really witnessed anyone showing me any sort of kindness. That made me sad. (Like I wasn’t already.) But I didn’t have the words at the time to say, no actually, I’ve gotten more favor than I’ve ever admitted. Sure, I’ve got shat upon … more than my fair share, there. But the blessings balance everything else out. You just tend to remember the hurts more because they seem to last longer.

Anyway, I like that “happy enough” thing. Between last night and today, three friends called out of the blue to give me an “atta girl.” They know me. They know I’m super-sensitive these days. They also don’t b.s. me. They’re not telling me “it’ll get better.” They’re telling me, “You will make it better.” We know the hand of fate is just as likely to deliver a bitchslap as it does a pat on the back. All we can do is buck up and live to tell our story one more day.

As one friend said, “Each day is wonderful. Some are more so than others.” I liked that.

Today is less wonderful than others. But it’s not terrible. Like I said, I heard from some wonderful people from my past, and not just by phone but also e-mail. The extended family is drawing closer together again. We lost one of our own and we need to know the others are OK.

And now, the high school friend. I don’t think I could have said or done anything to change his mind. But my heart does wonder whether I could have done something … stayed in touch or said a kind word that would have changed everything.

Naturally, I know there’s no turning back now and, even so, nothing little would have changed such a big outcome.

I’m just feeling small and helpless tonight, partially about the events in my own life but mostly about Everything Else. I can change my destiny. I still have time and the ability. Maybe I’ll never be ecstatic about my life. But happy’s OK. I’ll take it.

I’ve often said that I decided to move to Florida in big part because we lost Leanne. Now that we’ve lost Chip and Lynn, maybe I’ve just found my reasons to fight to stay. I love it here. I want to make it here. I’m tired of running away. I’m perfectly happy where I am. Now all I need is that thing to fight for that will keep me where I finally and truly want to be.

O HAI Mother Nature’s wrath on the D.C. Suburbs

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I had Big Plans for this blog this weekend. And then with a phone call from an old friend today, everything changed in an instant.

One of my beloved colleagues died yesterday. I would say “passed away” but he would have pulled out a stylebook and corrected me on proper word usage, so I wouldn’t dare use a euphemism here. 😉

This photo was a view from our office just outside D.C. Well, it wasn’t *our* view, as we were in another corner of the building, separated by the “hedge” of a shared cubicle wall … or, as he referred to it, a corral. He had a point there!

My friend who reached out to me, knows I’ve been going through Some Shit these past few weeks. And she reminded me that everything is all just Stupid Shit, and today’s news proves it.

Tonight I’m going to pour myself a nice stiff drink in honor of our friend. And I’ll try very hard not to think about how he was just two years away from retirement. Nor will my mind wander too far as I contemplate how he was hanging onto a similar career that I fight so hard to claw my way back into. Was it worth it for him? Is it worth it for me? Who knows.

I’ll be praying for my charming old friend tonight, and his extraordinary wife and their fantastic kids. It was hard enough when our beloved department was disbanded and we were all flung to the four corners of the company. But we’re all still “out there,” you know? We all still call and e-mail and keep our family intact as much as we can. No one has exited stage left before, though. This is a first, and I don’t like it one bit.

I’ve been sad all weekend about the steaming shitpile my own life has become. But then again, it always was one. Of course, I did come to an epiphany this weekend, that I can’t stand up and fight for what my mom needs because I’ve never stood my own ground to fight for ME.

I did that last week, though. I said “Enough!” and made it so. It may cause more harm than good down the line, but right now, I’m healthier than I have been since the end of August. Maybe by picking my own battles, and knowing which ones to leave the hell behind, I’ll do better as an advocate for my mom. Can’t do any worse, at this point.

And now that my buddy is gone, it really reminds me that life can be a joke sometimes, but it’s also just a moment in the grander scheme of the universe. There’s always tomorrow, so we waste our todays, thinking there’s an infinite amount of time just waiting for us to use. Not so much, eh?

Rest in peace, friend. I’m better for having known you, and luckier still for becoming a part of your extended family … and having you in mine.

I caught this article on BNET on “The Case for Quitting” and had to share.

Particularly intriguing is the idea of “sunk costs,” where you’ve already invested so much time and/or money into a job or project that you might as well see the damn thing through to completion.

So, I left another freelance job. (I know, who DOES that in this economy?) It should have been everything I ever dreamed of and more. Yet my insides were turning black from both worry and the pack-a-day cigarette habit I’ve developed over the past two weeks.

It was the right thing to do for me. I’ve stuck it out too many times for all the wrong reasons. I wish them well and I tried to leave the door open to return again at a better time for all of us.

Right now, I’m focusing on my job search. God, I need a miracle on this one. I really do. And please save me from poor or rash judgment — finding a gig isn’t the problem, but identifying and going after the right one, however, I could use a lil help with.

Yellow Brick Road

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Well, I asked God for a sign about my life, as I took a shortcut to Costco, and here’s what I saw. Follow the Yellow Brick Road, indeed.

I have had a very, VERY stressful few weeks. And today, I let that stress go. I wasn’t sleeping or eating or doing anything other than mainlining coffee and smoking.

Today I ate. (My mommy is the best cook, yo.) Today I also let go of something that promised to be great but isn’t a good fit for me right now, for reasons I will explain in a blog post in about a year from now. 😉

I took a big leap of faith. And I fell flat. And it’s ugly. But, I promised mom we will be OK. Because I haven’t been anywhere near strong or functional for her, and she needs the “good” me right now. I’ve been unable to give her that for too long, and now that I WANT to be good for/to her, I can’t do it the way things are now.

I have a list of “What’s Important” taped on the wall next to my computer. It’s seven simple goals that, if I am not working toward any of them at any given time, then I need to change my direction. The end.

Well, since those seven things are all sitting there, staring at me quizzically every single day, it’s time to stop averting my eyes.

I don’t know where my Yellow Brick Road is, let alone where it will lead. But now I’m inspired to go find it … and after a small healing period I’m allowing myself, I’m going to go hunting for it.