Caterwauling

Profundities, Profanities, Pundits, Passion and Pissing & Moaning

Thursday, October 31, 2002

Yawn

I have a shorter amount of time to write my stories this month, thanks to earlier deadlines set to accommodate Turkey Day break. Shit. One of my stories fell flat on its face today, but I'll live and just incorporate it as part of a bigger story, if at all. Yet I have these two nitwits who call me either every day or every other day, begging me to write stories about the work they're doing. The work is interesting enough to grab my attention, but I have other stories that my editor requested and frankly, I am not killing myself to produce more than I must. Granted, I want to write some extra stories to keep in the kitty, just in case we have a hole to fill, but I'm not in a rush. I already told the one guy that he's welcome to check in with me, but he should be prepared to hear that his is not the only story that has my attention at any given time. I told him that a story fell flat, and he joked that he hopes all my stories tank, so I can focus on his stuff. Ha ha. Fucker. I hope all my stories tank so I can take the month off. :)

Bill seems to think that Shan and I are meeting with him and Jackie on Monday; I sent him a quick e-mail to say that we aren't involved but that we'd love to take him out for a drink afterward. He's totally game for that. I wonder if he gets it, that Jackie doesn't want us there; what we don't want is for him to think that WE don't want to be at the table. I hope Jackie fucks up this partnership even further and makes Bill want to bow out. I really do. I wish absolutely no success to this company or the idiotic cast of characters that composes it. They deserve Solitaire Queen, Chatty Cathy, Pussy Demure and Yellow-Haired Bitch. They do not deserve people with ideas and charisma and motivation. Like all of my former employers, they punish initiative and reward mediocrity.

Gawd, I'm bitter today. I'm also horny, but at least I can indulge the bitterness!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 2:24 PM

Wednesday, October 30, 2002

I might've been born a Gemini ...

But the sex sign's all Libra!


libra



What's *Your* Sex Sign?

More Great Quizzes from Quiz Diva

The Goddess Dawn @ 2:46 PM

Pleasant surprise

I was shocked to receive an IM from RK this morning ... we haven't connected since August, I believe. At any rate, we had a pleasant conversation during the course of an hour or two. He said he wanted to respond to my e-mail (the one I sent Oct. 6, for anyone who wants to check the archives). I honestly didn't anticipate a response, but it was good catching up with him, nonetheless.

No news on the dumb bitch who wanted me to stop the presses about the profile I wrote about her. However, a past president is barking up our asses, which caused the exec to light a fire under my ass about a cumbersome article that I'm planning to compile in the coming weeks. I swear, the lengths to which we are forced to go, just to lick dick, are truly frightening.

Jackie is acting like his usual asshole self. Our contact from Boston, Bill, wants to meet with Jackie, Shan and me on Monday, but Jackie nixed the idea, saying that Shan and I are to have no part of it. What Jackie doesn't realize is that the only reason Bill is coming back to D.C. is because he was inspired by Shan and me to retain, and invest in, this shaky partnership between the two companies. The good news is that Bill wants to meet with us, independently of Jackie, about our own business ideas. Shan and I plan to jump on this opportunity.

Some of the petty women around the office purposely snubbed IKEA Boy today (it was painfully obvious), which, as he said himself, is pretty immature, and he knows that sometimes, he has no room to talk about acting immaturely. LOL. This place is just going to pot. I wish I were going to pot, too. ... :0)

The Goddess Dawn @ 12:55 PM

Tuesday, October 29, 2002

Newsbreak

Rather, a break from all sniper news, all the time. (I was beginning to sound like CNN.)

Since the alleged snipers were caught "like a duck in a noose," I have been reading about the follow-up stories but not as avidly as I read the minute-by-minute details. I guess it isn't pressing anymore. If we've truly got the culprits detained for good, I can relax till the next bizarre event occurs, whenever that may be.

I will admit, though, that I hate international news. Give it to me in baby-aspirin-sized doses; whirl the spoon around like an airplane or a choo-choo, just break it to me gently and give me the bottom line. I don't want to hear about an unsafe world when we have so many problems at home. I am on information overload and can't take much more.

Two news stories that rattled me today: a shooting at the University of Arizona's nursing school, where a 41-year-old student shot three professors, and a shooting at a Jersey city high school, where a person walked in, shot one student, and walked out. I was just saying to Shan, last night if you can believe that, that I realize that school shootings, as defined by the mass bloodshed of the late 1990s, have dissipated, but that other forms of violence exist and that I was surprised we hadn't heard of any shootings, as of late.

My concern for the schools is rooted in the fact that I have officially started volunteering for an organization that was founded to prevent school violence. And I plan to do some work for another one that, partly, deals with stress in the workplace (I am the poster child. hee hee. Only theoretically!). At any rate, it's good to keep the ol' brain occupied ... and using my development background is kind of exciting, because I learned so much in a short period of time. For 28 years old, sometimes my experience and insight amazes me, but then I realize that I worked hard and paid a lot of attention to the successes and failures of my colleagues and superiors, so I earned everything that I know. It's good to feel useful.

And I hear that I am getting business cards with the new company ... they were ordered today. Cripes, it took me more than six months as a director at Two Strikes (or as Shan calls it, Second Choice) to get biz cards, and that's because I finally got pissed off and had them designed and ordered especially for me. I hope I do well with this endeavor. I really do. And eventually it will pay off financially, and I am willing to devote time and energy right now to prove my mettle. Here's to hoping the mettle isn't tarnished or rusted from taking off the past few months from really using the ol' brain. And here's to eventually earning enough money to kill off some of those hardworking brain cells with smokey and swallowy treats!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 11:08 PM

Monday, October 28, 2002

Monday, Monday

"The silicon chip inside her head
gets switched to overload
and nobody's gonna go to school today
she's gonna make them stay at home
And Daddy doesn't understand it
He always said she was good as gold
And he can see no reason
'Cause there are no reasons
What reasons do you need to be shown

Tell me why
I don't like Mondays
I want to shoot
The whole day down."

-- Boomtown Rats (as covered by Tori Amos), "I Don't Like Mondays" --


Appropriate for another gloomy day in the life. Was just lying in bed, contemplating what I want out of this life, what I've already got, and how to use the latter to acquire the former, before the silicon chip switches to overload.

Before I die, I want:

1. To own a house/condo/apartment.
2. To see Italy, France, Ireland, Scotland and Spain.
3. To earn enough money to choose When and If I want to work during a particular day/week/month/year.
4. To always have enough money in the bank to purchase a last-minute plane ticket to anywhere and be able to afford at least a week in a hotel, wherever I end up.
5. To continually be surrounded by beautiful people and things that are real, consisent and meaningful.
6. To be pleased with my whole self, instead of certain parts or none at all.
7. To love what I do, both professionally and personally.

"Sometimes you're hit by the moment
When suddenly everything seems to be clear
A time when the world moves so slowly
A time when the answers just seem to appear

Sometimes it seems like a long road
Wrapped up and caught up in all that you fear
Then finally you stand in a strange place
Where you've learned and you've grown
And your moment is here."

-- Seven and the Sun, "I Won't Look Back" --

The Goddess Dawn @ 8:18 AM

Saturday, October 26, 2002

Accomplishment

After a fun night out drinking with Shan, I got up this morning feelin' kinda shitty (mainly because my cold renewed itself and therefore only allows me to have one functioning nasal passage at a time), but determined to clean my room.

Well, that didn't happen, but I did do some work on the living room, kitchen and bathroom. And I tossed up a few Halloween decorations. I'm not real in love with the apartment, although I've got my eye on a studio that's almost as big as the three aforementioned rooms combined, but while I'm here, I figure I might as well attempt to enjoy it. And it's amazing how, with a little bit of TLC and a bit of effort, how cute the place can look and how yummy it can smell.

I also threw away an entire bag of paperwork and bills, let's face it, I'll never get around to having the money to pay. Sure, I'll be sittin' in jail one of these days over it, but hell, I keep stressing every time I see the paperwork and might as well get it out of sight. LOL. I think I have a solution for the phone problem, though. But I'll post it at a later date.

On a work note (a brief one), I told IKEA Boy and Shan that I am at my last *real* job. Ten years and 10 employers later (note that I worked many jobs concurrently), I have operated under the belief that when a job stops being fun or ceases to further my skills, then I can leave. Now that I have mastered my current position and will probably have nothing to do outside of my department (media stuff), I have one more skill to master, and that is using Quark. And I don't want IKEA Boy's job. He's undoubtedly my coolest supervisor, but let's face it, he still serves at the pleasure of Pussy Demure and Jackie. Which just sucks all the way around.

And when you think you've escaped the bullshit from your former job, you step into a fresh pile of it at your next job. And the one after that. All employers have their problems, and all have their positives. Yet the only way to combine all the great things about each job is, well, to take your collective experiences and launch your own company. Sure, it will have its own issues, undoubtedly, but I will have the power to fix what's wrong and build upon what's right.

Shan and I are loosely planning a trip to Boston for some freelance work for some people we met at our press conference. They, in turn, are willing to give us some real advice for starting a business. I think it's going to come down to us launching a media relations gig for companies who appreciate us. We are also talking about doing a publicity campaign for a company her dad is heavily involved with and helped to launch. I am actually pretty psyched about trying to raise some money for it, so I can put my hard-earned fund-raising skills to the test.

At any rate, that's news for now. Off to watch "Trading Spaces" in my French-mint scented living room!

The Goddess Dawn @ 8:05 PM

Friday, October 25, 2002

A spook-tacular Friday Five

1. What is your favorite scary movie?
Oooh, I love scary movies, but I have to admit, the "Scream" series was my favorite. I like to laugh when I'm scared, and I did plenty of that while watching those movies!

2. What is your favorite Halloween treat?
I'll eat anything that doesn't eat me first! (Wait, did I say that? lol) I have a weakness for Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, although I can get those all year, which is fine with me. I love caramel corn and caramel apples, too, although one of these days, I'll probably lose a tooth in one of those sweet treats, with my luck.

3. Do you dress up for Halloween? If so, describe your best Halloween costume.
I've been an angel (purely for irony purposes), a devil (that's more like it!), a cat, Miss Piggy (no comments from the peanut gallery, please!), Little Orphan Annie, a nun ... and scariest of all .... myself. EEEEEKKKK!!!!

4. Do you enjoy going to haunted houses or other spooky events?
Hell yeah!!! I'm always on guard anyway, so I don't get too scared. Walking through a haunted house, though, is less stressful than walking into work, on many occasions ... so it's nice (in a haunted house) to see people PURPOSELY acting like freaks (instead of just NATURALLY acting crazy)!!!

5. Will you dress up for Halloween this year?
Hmm. Depends on what I can whip together for free (I bought two cheap pairs of sneakers and unfortunately, that small purchase screwed up my whole budget. Fuckin' pay cut.) I should at least do something gypsy-ish, 'cause I can find hoop earrings and some scarves with little effort. I could always go as a ho' ... it's fast, cheap and easy ... just like me. :) And hell, it'd be no extra effort than a normal day!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 7:39 AM

Thursday, October 24, 2002

The kid confessed

It's amazing, the amount of information the police withheld. I just heard on the news that the kid confessed out of guilt to a priest (!) in Ashland, Va. (I wonder if the kid represents the fucked-up Nation of Islam, like Muhammad does ... I highly doubt that he would approve of the kid contacting anyone, let alone a priest, in this matter!) Also, a great deal of the content of the notes is now being released. But I don't care ... if we truly have the perpetrators in police custody now, I am completely cool with the information that was withheld. A miracle has occurred: the veritable "needle in a haystack" has been found.

Although ...

Police told us to look for variations of white vans, trucks and cars ... only for us to learn now that they have been searching for a blue or maroon Caprice since the get-go. How many Caprices have I seen on the road? Granted, not many, but I could have been on the lookout for it for three weeks.

Something's still up, though. We have this convergence of unmarked police and FBI vehicles in a neighboring parking lot at work every single day. It's within full view of my office; their token vehicles (with multiple antennae) sit there from 9 to 6, give or take, every day. Today was no different. With our area having been thought to be a potential target, I fear that again, some level of information is being withheld in regard to this case.

Schools in the area are lifting their restrictions on field trips and outdoor activities. Wobin and I were laughing about it, how parents were refusing to send their kids to school, but in TV interviews, they openly said that they were taking their kids to the malls, movie theaters, etc. Cripes, wasn't the whole point to keep the kids hidden after that 13-year-old in Bowie, Md., was shot?

The tally: 22 days, 14 shots, 10 deaths, 3 wounded.

You know, I giggled in an earlier entry when Mom heard about a bombing in Bali and immediately associated it with Bally, my gym. Yet her unique perspective could have solved this case ... she is the type of person who would have connected Washington, D.C., to Washington State. She would have related Montgomery County, Md., to Montgomery, Ala. Perhaps this is another case of the police, by not releasing the information, missed out on someone like Mom out there in TV land who might have made the association, given the right clues ... and what, for her, is obvious might have taken cops days or weeks to unravel. Although, with all the rabid media coverage, I am shocked that the recent sniper shootings in Alabama -- which took place during the snipers' supposed four-day hiatus -- weren't publicized in this area. If for no other reason than to make us feel better that we weren't the only ones watching our asses, I think we should have heard about that.

I was angry when a CNN poll showed that the public gave the media an "F" for their coverage of this case. I at least rated it as a "C." But now, after NOT hearing about the Montgomery, Ala., shootings, I say shame on our reporters (or, rather, their assignment editors) who weren't watching the wire and making the connection. Christ, if pseudo-literate Moosehead can solve a case in three weeks, I'm certain a half-witted journalist could have solved it in two weeks, max.

Speaking of breaking news. ...

Something that puzzles me ... Reuters reported that Muhammad was homeless, and he and the kid spent some time in shelters. Yet Reuters also reported that shelter workers noted his ease in flying to Louisiana, Jamaica (the kid and the kid's mom allegedly immigrated here illegally from Antigua) and other locations, whenever he damn well felt like it. How, praytell, did he get such money? Was it from extortion? And did he drive to Alabama or fly this time? Inquiring minds want to know. :)

What frosted Shan's and my flakes today was reading about how the backseat of the Caprice was rigged to collapse, and how there was a hole in the back of the car through which the barrel of the rifle could fit, allowing for easy, undetected shooting. Damn, that was clever as shit. But how could this clever man get caught? Obviously, he wanted to get caught. Was he tired? Bored? Longing for a roof over his head? A homeless man and an immigrant minor seem like such an unlikely pair to conduct such a reign of terror, but I will be scratching my head till a motive is declared. I mean, shit, they were sleeping at a Maryland rest stop when a trucker reported seeing the wanted vehicle with the right license plate. Obviously, they didn't have access to a TV, to know that the information was released at midnight. But I would assume they had a radio in the car, even if it was a little transistor radio.

Gawd, how many times do you get behind a shitty driver on the freeway? Who'da thunk it that they could shoot you for tailgating them? At least, though, they didn't do that. They picked off one victim at a time, whereas a freeway shooting could injure dozens of people, at least, simultaneously.

And how bizarre that Sniperoo's note asked Moosehead to tell the public that they caught him "like a duck in a noose." Is that a new cliche that's sweeping the nation? Shan said that the Ducks are a sports team in Oregon, which is dangerously close to Washington state. Further, her dad is a fire chief in Oregon, and he's dealing with a serial arsonist right now (40 fires in 10 months, all linked stylistically). Perhaps Sniperoo was truly acting alone in his sniping activities, but what if one of his buddies is a serial arsonist? What's next? I wonder if there could be a connection. I'd rather have a sniper than an arsonist, though, I think. My biggest fear (alongside car accidents) is of fire. I love fire for its dangerous beauty, but having faced an apartment fire when I was in third grade, I am not a happy Dawn when flames are present.

Bleah. I just want to breathe. So many residents are crawling out from their holes, venturing out to stores and gas stations and letting their kids go back to school. Is it REALLY safe? Let's assume Sniperoo and Sniperoo Jr. are truly the felons in question ... what's to stop another sadistic son of a bitch from picking up where they left off?

Moosehead infuriated me with today's press conference. He thanked area residents for their patience and cooperation, and he said that this was the worst act of terror in this area, ever. Um, did Sept. 11, 2001, slip his mind? I felt that terror from 250 miles away. Unfortunately, this area is just a sitting target. One only wonders what's in store for us next, and how long it will take before we have to enter panic mode again.

It's interesting that Muhammad is a Gulf War veteran. I'm dealing at work with some dumb bitch who served in Saudi Arabia. She's out of her god damn mind, and she's pursuing her doctorate in counseling. She initiated the process of me writing a story on her, only for her to call Shan (because Shan was the only one at her desk when the bitch began bouncing through the voice mail system) and rant that I initiated the process over a year ago (yeah, when I didn't even work there) and that I was the one who asked her about stuff that she wouldn't have otherwise talked about (like some references to a public execution square in Riyadh), when she, in her initial e-mail to propose the profile, talked at length of that horrid place. It's a shame that she got to treat military personnel for post-traumatic stress disorder, when she's clearly one fucked-up duck herself. Argh. Had tons of drama at work yesterday in relation to her, and I didn't finish my own work till 11 p.m. (at least I had come home briefly at 5 to feed the cat). Bleah. Today should be an easy one, I hope. This week has been full of tension, despite the winning press conference and coverage, and I will be glad to lock myself in the apartment with the cat and not deal with anything related to work for two full days.

The Goddess Dawn @ 11:28 PM

More photos

Finally, a picture of the stepson.

The Goddess Dawn @ 2:26 PM

APB issued in sniper case

At a press conference held two minutes ago, Moosehead gave a website to acquire images of the two men wanted for questioning in the sniper case. The elder has "Mohammed" as part of his name ... was it the guy I was ignoring every damn time he called my cell phone? lol. It's funny but still freaky.

At any rate, I think this was the website: www.atf.treas.gov. And just like the tip line, it's impossible to get through to it. :)

Keep your eyes peeled for a 1990 Chevy Caprice Classic with Nu Joisey plates. Ugh. Nothin' like picking a conspicuous vehicle, although it is less so than the van. And there's a juvenile in the car, too. Christ. This kid's gonna need some serious therapy. And zoloft. If this kid is actually connected (and I'll bet he's driving while Mohammed takes the shots, although I can bet they take turns) to this debacle, he'd better not be tried as a juvenile.

Ah, could an end to this madness be in sight? My heart leaped when I heard the names, descriptions and license plate number, NDA-21Z. Granted, all of those physical indicators can be easily changed, but what I wouldn't give to bring justice to those who put an already uneasy public on its utmost edge.

The Goddess Dawn @ 12:06 AM

Wednesday, October 23, 2002

Whew

Just got back from fueling Samantha Jones and washing her windows. Christ. My heart started thumping as I did the "gas dance," otherwise known as trying-to-fuel-one's-car-in-the-metro-Washington-area. This zig-zagging shit that they recommend we do with our bodies is kinda difficult when you're trying not to get gasoline on your clothes. Cripes.

I heard that search warrants are being served throughout the United States right now, in relation to this case. Headline News is breaking it right now; they're talking about Washington state right now. Hmm. I also heard earlier today that the person calling the tip line, identifying himself as the sniper, has an accent that could possibly be technology-induced. I'll bet it isn't a fake. I'll bet it's a sock over a receiver that's muffling his voice, but it's a real accent. Experts think it's an American-born Hispanic. Hmmm. It's probably that guy who dropped his drawers on the dance floor at Nation, who was begging me to give him a hand job. Heh.

Shan and I were saying that instead of picking off random citizens, Sniperoo needs to be introducing his bullets to meter maids, who snipe us (pun intended) for $50 for expired meters and $15 for missing tax stickers. Whaddaya think, Sniperoo? Help us out a bit.

One last comment about this: Our gas prices are only down two cents. Why?!?! Nobody's going to the gas stations, for cripes' sake. Apply the laws of supply and demand, guys ... and being that Alexandria is literally crawling with police (I had three cars within my line of vision at the pump), people will be more inclined to come out and fuel up. Just a humble suggestion. :)

Another sniper-related issue: our guards are down, while our sniper-radar is going up. I no longer put my Club on my steering wheel, just so I can make a quick getaway if I hear gunfire as I approach my car. I still hold my purse and cell phone protector close to me, but I'm so busy watching wooded areas and dancing through parking lots that someone could say, "Boo!" to me and I'd probably drop my phone and have my purse snatched out of my hand. We're so worried about being gunshot victims that we forget that it would be much more likely to be mowed down by a psychotic D.C., Maryland or Virginia driver.

So many people are worried about "copycat" killings ... I'm more worried that the sniper has caused other potential perpetrators to contemplate sliding into action in their own ways ... after all, if they aren't popping people off from 300 yards away, who's gonna say anything about a little pickpocketing offense?

I just heard that a tree stump confiscated from behind the house in Tacoma, Wash., is about to be put on a plane and flown to D.C. I just commented to IKEA Boy that the stump, which will be pampered and escorted, is being treated better than we will ever be. :)

Quick work update: Jackie will never put me on a media project again, and Yellow-Haired Bitch has realized (thanks to Shan) that Jackie appointed us to do her work; we didn't knowingly step on her pointy little toes. She's happier now. Not that I gave a shit in the first place. But it's a bummer about me losing the media component of my job (I won't go into it here as to why), but at least this one experience broke up the monotony of my usual routine. Oh well. Shan and I finally realized how people acquire the "lifer" mentality ... and we're dangerously close to resigning ourselves to it.

Our president told me that the interview on Headline News went very well this morning; he wanted to thank me for making it happen. He said that they asked all the right questions (thanks to Shan and I having Jackie call CNN in advance, to discuss talking points) and that it was very fluid. Hah. The prez even gave Shan a big hug in front of Jackie, to thank her for her work on this debacle, and he asked her to give me a hug from him as well. Unfortunately, I slept through it (I even slept with the TV on, so that I could wake up and see it). Shit. Oh well. I'll live. I'll be Yellow-Haired Bitch missed it too.

In other news, I've exchanged at least two rounds of e-mail with hot Matt from the press conference. If nothing else, I'm building my contact base so that I can possibly get my own business launched. And if I get more (i.e., a date), I certainly won't be upset!

The Goddess Dawn @ 7:42 PM

Tuesday, October 22, 2002

Life happens while you're in an elevator

Okay, so Shan and I were in the elevator at the National Press Club this morning when we heard that Sniperoo presumably shot victim #14. I felt the tears rush to my eyes, but I didn't shed them. I ached for the victim, who has since been pronounced dead; I ached for his family; I ached for Washingtonians who fear every minute for their lives; and I ached for families in the Middle East for whom such random acts of violence are far more common and on a far greater scale.

But the elevator ride from our moderately successful press conference was awesome ... we rode with Janet Reno!!! Not that Shan and I are stargazers, by any means, but it was just so very impressive to be near someone we consider to be a celebrity.

Press conference was good ... it attracted about as much attention as I expected it would. We were supposed to have CNN in attendance, but due to the sniper shooting, they left a message stating that they were heading to the hospital in Aspen Hill, Md., to cover the latest victim's condition. But after the event, I got a call from Headline News, asking for me to set up an interview for a live feed at 7:40 a.m. tomorrow morning. Not bad for a day.

Shan was really the one who made miracles happen. All the press we got, came from her bank of contacts. She even got us into the Press Club, which is difficult at best, especially considering that no one from our association even holds a membership there. My predecessor, now known as J-HO, didn't get a soul to attend ... and of course she will be paid for her efforts. Luckily, though, she wasn't there.

Jackie Chan, now known as plain ol' Jackie, 'cause it can stand for JackOFF or JackASS, thus being equally accurate to the original name, was a big fat poopy-head today. The second he saw Shan, he made a shitty comment. And he was just plain old annoyed to be there, and made it a point to let everyone know it. Fuckhead. Shan and I met with him later (to be explained), and he was just on an ego trip. I wanted to kick his ass to the moon, but given the opportunity, I'd have to pass it to Shan, 'cause she's the one regaled to wiping his ass all day, every day.

But for any aggravation suffered in advance of the press conference, I rather enjoyed attending it. Two hot, single men were there, and I was working it with both of them. Hee hee. One was the Matt who showed up at our association's recent Open House (he was the one all the girls were drooling over, and I was the only one who got his number). I was pleased to see that he came out to support us today, and I dropped him a crafty little thank-you-for-attending e-mail, with a suggestion that we should really get togther to talk about ways we can possibly work together in the future. Hah.

The other was Mike, from Boston. Yowza, as Shan would say. I was hot for him, too. He and Matt were both just too cute for words, professional, insightful and just plain candy for the eyes. Mmmm. I'd like to get a taste of his hot baked beans. lol.

Drama was in store, however, when I arrived at work. I stopped into the bathroom to take a piss (why else would I go there, huh?!?!). Yellow-Haired Bitch was in there and made some comment to me about the press conference. Now, she's supposedly in charge of media relations, but she really sits on her big fat ass and talks to her daughter and husband on the phone all day. She was not in on the whole press conference planning (probably because she's a fucking idiot), and I assume that's why she picked fights with me and with Shan today. Of course, she didn't even attend the conference ... probably had some candy jars to hit in the office and was glad to be rid of some of us, for easier grazing. Argh. I don't know. I'm being catty.

At any rate, in the toily, after her comment, I said something that, frankly, needed to be said. (Background: Jackie zipped out of the conference to head to CNN with our president, leaving behind hot Mike and his boss, Bill, who's just cool as shit. Bill and Mike were concerned, however, because they had organized the CNN interview that aired this morning, using their contacts, and today, Jackie went back to CNN without them in a supposedly unrelated interview ... which, if you ask me, I wholeheartedly believe that Jackie used them for their contacts and snuck behind their backs for his own self-promotion.)

Anyway, I told Yellow-Haired Bitch that some damage control needs to be done, that Bill and Mike are somewhat hurt and confused about being excluded, particularly when they were the ones who had the contacts with CNN and gave us the entree. She hypocritically told me that they just need to take a pill (she's admittedly addicted to Zoloft). I said they were not upset, just concerned, as I had just said, had she been listening (I said that kinda sharply, but she's an idiot). She said it's none of their business, because it was a call that came in randomly through our front desk and she responded to it, as she is the media person. I said I don't care how it happened (and that it's a shame that we're not actively contacting the media with our expertise, but oh well. Story for another day.) but that there is a PERCEPTION on the part of our NEW PARTNERS that we might have used them ... something that needs to be ADDRESSED and HEALED in order for the partnership to possibly continue.

Further, I asked what, then, was the interview about. She explained it. Sounded awfully familiar to the content of our press conference, to which Bill and Mike contributed significantly, and I said so.

Yellow-Haired Bitch began RAGING at me, saying that all media-related things should pass through her, and that there are too many people involved. She made a SHITTY remark about me handling media issues, how that's her job and she doesn't mean to imply that I don't know what I am doing, but it's not my place. (I was boiling mad, too much so to point out that HER SUPERVISOR Jackie appointed me to the team.) She was flailing her arms and saying that she needs to talk to Jackie, because it's just ridiculous how she doesn't know what's going on and that people like me are more in the know. And again, she reiterated how "petty and stupid" Mike and Bill were being, for not being included in the afternoon CNN interview, when "it didn't even have anything to do with them because it's an interview I handled."

FUCKING STRAW-HAIRED, FAT-ASSED, MEDICATED FUCKING FREAK!!! She should talk about taking a pill ... she must've been overdue for her afternoon dose!!!

Realizing that she was spluttering and fucking crazy, I quickly grabbed a toily seat protector and slammed myself into a stall. I don't reason with the unreasonable. I did not raise my voice; I did not lose my cool. As a person asked to act as a media advisor for this event, I did my part, and then some. It's not my fault that she's incompetent. It's not my fault that she doesn't know how to do a press conference. And it's not my place to convince her of that.

While I happily voided my bladder (finally!), she went raging down to Shan's area, where the president and she were talking. Yellow-Haired Bitch went off about what a fucking asshole she thinks I am, that I'm concerned about what our whiny partners were thinking and I'm creating drama and I'm out of place. Yadda Yadda Bullshit. Shan gave me the rundown, but I was just a bit ticked and hoping that the sniper will see her nasty straw hair and put her out of our misery. :)

Shan was most perturbed at Yellow-Haired Bitch anyway, as the lunatic had screamed at her a few times as well. But during the "let's bash Dawn" fiesta, Shan put her straight into her place that, in fact, I was calling it exactly like it was and was making a perfectly logical recommendation for action. Shan was concerned, though, that I was being bashed in front of the president, but I said to hell with it. I went above and beyond my job responsibilities -- to do the bitch's job. And I did well, damn it. And I would have done more, had Jackie not pissed me off and discarded my efforts the way he did.

But it's all good. Shan and I had had a business meeting with Bill and Mike, and they are most interested in how we can all help each other. Shan even volunteered us to work for them for free, on the side, just to build that relationship. I was cool with it ... I'm all about building my experience base, especially if these guys will be appreciative of our efforts, which they totally were. Jackie couldn't say "good job" or "thank you," but the other guys were gushing over our enthusiasm, humor and ability to pull off a press conference in a four-day span. And they were thrilled to dispense business advice and to dangle an invitation to think about doing some side work for their company. Hah. Fuck you, Jackie. Fuck you and your Yellow-Haired Bitch and your mistress J-HO.

And fuck this stupid company. Jesus Christ, if I didn't work for IKEA Boy and have Shan down the hall for my amusement and sanity purposes, I'd just leave. J-HO and Yellow-Haired Bitch got paid to do publicity, and Shan's and my stupid asses did it for free, among our other responsibilities. We need to be running our own media relations company ... we've more than proven that our teamwork is strong, our knowledge is extensive and our ability to plan and to wing that for which we did not plan is keen and unparalleled. It would be nice to work for normal people ... ourselves.

Poor IKEA Boy had a shitty day ... his computer crashed and lost th 35 beautifully laid-out pages of our publication that he completed today. Lost the whole fucking file. Damn it. I feel horrible for him; I wish I could save the file somehow. Anybody know how to rescue a "Bad File/Error 70"?

The Goddess Dawn @ 9:12 PM

Monday, October 21, 2002

Creepy

The two people detained in the sniper case are apparently unable to be connected to the crime. I was overjoyed when I heard about the arrests, as I need to put some fuel in Samantha Jones, and I was hoping to do it tomorrow (payday). Shit. But the cops are finally releasing information about the note found at the scene. Now I understand why Moosehead was being so cryptic in his statement to "call us at the number you provided." And here I thought he was being semi-literate, like usual. My opinion of him just went up a point or three. But I am still terrified, nonetheless.

Just a final thought: my family and I used to eat at Ponderosa about once a month when I was younger. It was not unusual for at least one of us to be doubled over in the parking lot, stricken with gastrointestinal attacks after eating that crappy food. Back then, no one would have ever dreamed that a bullet hit us in the stomach, although it certainly felt like it! ;)

The Goddess Dawn @ 4:01 PM

19 days, 13 victims, 2 arrests

Keep your fingers crossed that we have finally caught the beltway sniper.

The Goddess Dawn @ 10:59 AM

Sunday, October 20, 2002

Rockin' and Rollin'

Emphasis on the rolling, of course!

Madonnarama was a blast. Paul and Bryan came out with us, and I met some fantastic new people. Last night, Mikey was in a dance performance on the stage ... it was awesome! I'd never seen him dance before. My, to be that flexible. ...

Matt didn't show last night, but his roommate Ryan and two of his friends made the journey up to Alexandria last night to accompany us. He had his reasons for laying low, and I understand that it wasn't to avoid me. Hee hee. Doesn't that boy know that he could have gotten laid last night? Sheesh. I haven't had 20-year-old cock since, well, I was 20 myself, and it would have been a pleasant way to spend this morning. (I could've ridden that poor boy down the Beltway, thanks to my yummy pill.) Oh well. Maybe next time. :)

I rolled pretty hard this time. I think I consumed way too much water, because I was nauseated for awhile. But it was nothing that a couple of bong hits couldn't cure, though.

IKEA Boy is going to Pittsburgh with me for Turkey Day. It was ironic that he even brought it up, because I had toyed with the idea of inviting him, but I know that going to the 'Burgh isn't his idea of fun. I am ripping apart my room right now, looking for a certificate I bought in a silent auction for a weekend stay at the Ramada that includes dinner at the Ruddy Duck, which is a top-notch restaurant in downtown Pittsburgh (ironically, I had been the one who received the donation for Two Strikes, and I ended up paying $150 for it. Hah! But it's a $500 value, so I'm fine with it. I'm glad it will finally come in handy).

Mom will probably be bummed that I'm not staying with her, but honestly, I am tired of sleeping on the couch, although that couch once belonged to MV. Every time I sleep on that couch, I dream about her. Just to go back in time five and a half years ... there is so much I would have done differently. I was so in love with her, and so afraid to let it happen because of what that meant. She probably would have become just a memory anyway, but it would have been preferable to the regret I now carry.

At any rate, Mom is thrilled to play hostess, and she's even happier that I am NOT driving. lol. She is fine with my driving, but IKEA Boy refuses to sit in a car with me for four hours each way, listening to me road raging all over the place. Yeah, wait till he hears Maddie howling from the backseat ... both of his girls bitch when we're in the car!!!

My 10-year high school is that weekend. When I got the e-mail asking me to RSVP, I was the first respondent ... with a big fat NO!!! Why would I see all those losers when I have so many BETTER friends I want to see while I'm there?

The Goddess Dawn @ 1:47 PM

Saturday, October 19, 2002

Self-Discovery

This month has just sucked at work. Between the re-print of the October issue, scrambling to catch up after days away from the office, and unpleasantries with Jackie Chan on IKEA Boy, Shan's and now my parts, I'd be more than happy to quit my job and take my chances with consulting for a company that might actually appreciate some talent and vision. But, does such a place exist? I keep hopping from organization to agency to association, looking for greener pastures, yet all I find are sacred cows and scared little calves who are in charge. Damn it. Now I'm hungry for steak. ... :)

Only spent a half-hour or so at the gym today. Loser. But there were some INCREDIBLE (and EDIBLE!) men there. Usually you see the bonehead bodybuilder types, but today, all the hot boys must have decided to have a convention at Bally. Damn! Who wants to be seen all sweaty and red-faced when yummy eye candy is looking at us?

Speaking of Bally, Wobin called me today and told me how frantic she was when she heard about a recent overseas bombing ... in Bali. When the news first broke, she thought they meant my gym. Hah. But we have to cut her a bit of slack, as she's already nuts over the beltway sniper. The woman's paranoid. Hee hee ... Hear that, Shan? Bally was bombed! We don't have to exercise anymore!!! ROFL

An oddity I recently discovered about my working habits is that I complete projects in the reverse order in which they were assigned. Short attention span? I feel like a baby ... show me something shiny and new, and it distracts me. Now, how do I make that work in my favor?

The Goddess Dawn @ 5:31 PM

Friday, October 18, 2002

ISO Reckless Abandon

Here I sit, blogging on a Friday night. Oh joy and rapture. I wasn't lacking an invitation to go out, but it's kinda difficult with no money. Whatsoever. Until payday on Tuesday, when I write out the rent check and whatever bills have gone neglected (i.e., home phone). Argh.

Got a response to the lone personal ad that's still live. All these fricking sites charge you to open your mail, but at least I got to see its subject line. It's from a couple. A COUPLE!!! Christ, I can't even chew gum and drive, or smoke and walk, without running into a curb. Although I've always had fantasies about being a guest star (a la Samantha Jones), I can't say I'm interested. :) Oh well! Better luck next time. ... Perhaps they liked my headline (as repeated above), and why wouldn't they? ;)

Met a hottie in Starbucks tonight (as I paid with quarters for my cinnamon spice mocha). Perhaps I will go back for a different type of hot liquid to drink. ... ;) Only next time, I need to have cash so I don't look so pathetic!

Blew the remainder of my bank account tonight. Bought a nifty, cheap little lamp at a local discount store. It's square, black wrought-iron with a square blue shade inside of it. Cool as shit. I worked 12 hours today -- damn it, I deserved it, and the cost equaled an hour of pay (not to insinuate that I am paid hourly, though).

Not to pitch a bitch about work, but Jackie Chan put me on a team to pull together a press conference on this coming Monday, and he put the brakes on my involvement today. I had written a great press release and spent the equivalent of three hours advising him on media relations (as he has no fucking clue about it). I thought this would be my chance to shine, but no luck. Unfortunately, he knows I'm swamped, so yanking me off the team, he felt, was the best decision for all of us. Chickenshit even made Shan break the news to me, and then he instructed her to give my shit to my predecessor, who is now his mistress, I believe. I'm slightly furious, but the fact is, I didn't have adequate time to devote to it (even though, at Shan's and my request, he did move it to Tuesday). I told IKEA Boy that I shouldn't be this disillusioned, only four months into the job.

That's when it occurred to me why my lucky number is three ... at every job I've held, I've hit my breaking point at the four-month mark. For instance, at this time last year, I was happy as a lark at Two Strikes (actually, I was getting ready to go to South Carolina with Brat for what I had hoped would be a 14-Karat Fuckfest). The day after I returned to Pittsburgh, Incoherent Twit told me that Her Royal Pretentiousness was on a rampage and wanted to rip us both to shreds upon my arrival into work, four days from then. And she did. Big time. Again, I'd been at the job a mere four months.

Perhaps this is why I need to do a full-time consulting gig, and now I know to limit my stints to four months. Heh. I really thought I'd show Jackie, et. al., how dazzling, powerful, resourceful and influential I can be. And when Shan and I tag-teamed him with all of our ideas, concerns, needs and potential, he did his faggy eye flutter and ran screaming from the office 10 minutes later, not to be seen till the next day. Bastard.

Something I've learned, in my extensive non-profit experience, is that there are two forces that make an organization work: the program people and the operations people. The program people have the dreams and the desire and the heart, but they don't know shit about logistics. Then the operations people (like me) buy into the dream long enough to figure out how to make these grand dreams come true. Program people don't like details, planning or, god forbid, Plan Bs. Operations people want to kick program people in the ass, because we can't reach their heads that are in the clouds. Jackie is a program person. HRP was a program person. IKEA Boy, Shan, F/OM and I play for the other team, and we are the people who will die trying to please program people if we don't wise up and learn to chase our own dreams.

I'm not angry, and I'm not going to turn back into a person who hates going into work every day. But can Jackie even conceive of the potential he's missing? I beat him over the head with advice and ideas, and I made it clear from the get-go that my best contribution to the project would be in an advisory capacity. Then he acted shocked when he found out that my time really WAS limited, and he seemed to reject the professional advisement I provided. My name is off the press release, off the project, off the list for future endeavors. Now dumb bitch Jennifer will be considered our press conference queen. What's sad is that she is picking up where I left off, and I accomplished a lot, I think, in two days. And they're PAYING her!!! I was going to go in tomorrow and VOLUNTEER my weekend to pull the conference together. Shit. Am I stupid?

Jennifer is going to get the glory, and that's what burns my muffins. But least I don't have to fuck Jackie to keep my job, though. :) Something tells me that I might just perhaps be getting the better end of the deal.

The Goddess Dawn @ 10:39 PM

Friday Five

Just a few minutes on a lunch break I shouldn't be taking. ... :) Mmmmm .... Popeye's cajun nuggets. ...

1. How many TVs do you have in your home?
Two. Tiff's is in the living room; mine in my bedroom. I never even used to sleep in my old bedroom, when I lived alone. Now, with the TV in there and the computer, there's no reason to leave. ;)

2. On average, how much TV do you watch in a week?
Entirely too much. Depends on when I'm home, 'cause I flip it on when I enter my Batcave, and I turn it off when I leave.

3. Do you feel that television is bad for young children?
Depends on what level of fuck-ups their parents are. When TV is used as a babysitter, it's bad for them because kids can only be exposed to so much trash before their brains turn to mush. (Adults, too, I suppose.) And I'd hate to envision a world where children are watching the violence on the news without a parent there to explain to them what is happening in the world.

4. What TV shows do you absolutely HAVE to watch, and if you miss them, you're heartbroken?
In no particular order, "ER," "Will and Grace," "Friends," "Real World," "West Wing" and "Trading Spaces." And of course "Sex and the City" and "Six Feet Under," when it's their seasons to run.

5. If you had the power to create your own television network, what would your line-up look like?
All Jon Bon Jovi, all the time. And some breaking news. And "Trading Spaces." And "Brat Pack" movies. :)

The Goddess Dawn @ 2:43 PM

Wonderful

A supposed witness gave false information in the most recent incident of the beltway sniper case. Thanks, asshole. A shooting happens in my county, and some FOB moron tampers with the case, just so he can get some presstime. What is this world coming to?

My conspiracy-theory radar is up again. Was he planted on the scene, to give a false account, so that Sniperoo could get away in a different vehicle than described? Or was he thinking that he would be safe in describing a cream-colored van with the left taillight out, because other witnesses had given similar accounts in previous cases? Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ.

The cops are telling us to discount what that non-witness said, which leaves us with the following description of Sniperoo:

1. Shoots people (we've confirmed he uses bullets, not bows-and-arrows)
2. Uses a vehicle (as it's difficult to shoot people from the Metro)
3. Male (no one has disputed this yet, although what kind of man would do this?)
4. Likes to drive (have gun, will travel).

Well, that makes me feel safer than ever! Christ. Now to go off to work. Dare I say that my gas tank is gettin' kinda low?

The Goddess Dawn @ 6:07 AM

Thursday, October 17, 2002

More search string fun

1. madonnarama nation dc
2. cat crap
3. d.c. sniper wedge theory
4. made to straddle a board against my pussy

Lawd, I guess I post some really weird shit, to attract all this attention. :) At any rate, Madonnarama is on Saturday night!!!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 11:31 AM

Wednesday, October 16, 2002

Damn Sniper

Here's a fact sheet about the gunman/gunmen.

Wolf Blintzer did a special tonight on the beltway sniper shootings, and he did a piece on how the media is aiding and impeding the case. His survey of the day has viewers voting which letter grade (A-F) that they would give to the media for their coverage. Overwhelmingly, the watchdogs got a big fat F on their report cards.

I could go into what I wrote two posts ago, why I am embarrassed for my media counterparts. But I also have fledgling hope that they truly are evaluating some of the leads they are given, and maybe they truly are using their judgment about what not to report so as not to damage the investigation. I've been wrong before, though. The interviewees made a good point that it takes two to tango ... that is, someone has to leak explosive information in order for it to be reported. Journalists snatch any little bone, though, and treat it like a steak dinner ... but like investigators, journalists also know that some of those bones are, in fact, made out of clouds and papier-maiche.

Gawd, I've gotten deep. I need drugs. Badly. Here's to hoping I finish my SEVEN (how the hell did that happen?) articles and somehow manage to whip together a press release and press CONFERENCE by Monday. This is seriously affecting my weekend plans to get fucked up ... while I will most certainly deserve any juicy little pill that I swallow or herb that I smoke, can I afford to be spaced out on Monday? And do I actually have to be at this debacle that I am supposed to organize? Fuck me running.

Over at Amish Tech Support, Laurence suggested that the next target should be Geraldo. Sorry, Larry, I've got my hopes on it being Martha Stewart, in town for a doily-making convention. But it would be such a shame to hear passersby cheering on the sniper, wouldn't it? Were that the case, I wouldn't turn Sniperoo in ... I'd build a memorial in his-or-their honor and display it proudly at the Mall.

The Goddess Dawn @ 8:21 PM

Recommended reading

I've been a fan of Dawn Olsen's blog for the past few weeks, because she's got some intelligent things to say about the beltway sniper. She also attracts a lot of commentary from ex-military types, and of course I leave comments because I am not a troll (i.e., I'd love it if more of my faithful readers would contribute their thoughts to my rants!!!).

At any rate, I posted a comment on one of her entries, and I just wanted to share my rant here:

The new info about it being an olive-skinned man is kind of unnerving. What if it's someone pissed off about the bombings in the middle east and is trying to make his own sort of warped justice? Probably half of the population here in NoVA fits that description. I know the cops have license plate digits, at least a portion of them. I just wish they would TELL us what combination of numbers to look for. We all have cell phones ... I'm ready to put the tip line number on my speed dial. Empower the residents, damn it!!! And I'd be pretty damn happy to see military planes flying overhead, scoping out this fuckwit. In this case, I should hope that military intervention would be approved to assist the cops.

Bleah. Back to work. :)

The Goddess Dawn @ 12:16 PM

Conspiracy theories ... rather, just plain bitchin'

Shan, IKEA Boy and I all have what I believe to be a certain level of common sense that actually surpasses the highest level of intelligence. When we hear about things going on in the news, like the beltway sniper debacle, we are quick to figure out what should have been done during the investigation and how it should proceed, because we have an uncanny way of seeing facts differently than the way they were presented to us.

I am embarrassed at the behavior of many of the journalists. The networks are in mad competition to rush info across the airwaves, even if it's incorrect, just so they can claim that THEY were "First On the Scene" -- which they probably weren't. I watch press conferences led by Chief Moose in Montgomery County, Md., where they antagonize him with the same questions asked 30 different ways, and I shudder. Of course you're supposed to ask multiple questions, to either get him to release more info than he planned or to maybe get a usable soundbite from him (he's not the most eloquent speaker I've ever heard, that's for damn sure -- I mean, he tells the media to cooperate "wit" him and then the next day tells them to cooperate "wif" him. Who's with me on requiring public figures to attend a speech class?).

Of course, it must be said that's he's waaaaaaaayyyyy more coherent than some of the witnesses, who you can tell are FOB (fresh off the boat). I think Cheech and Chong are down here, showing up at all of the terror-stricken areas, providing interviews as supposed eyewitnesses. Fire up another doobie, Paco. Oh, the agony. It's like listening to Bling-Bling the Crack Expert (MPEG available at Bumfights.com).

At any rate, I know the media are frustrated. I would be, too, were I out there with them. But perhaps I have lost my journalistic edge, but I do understand that there are some facts to which the public is not -- and should not -- be privy. If releasing certain nuggets of information will mean that the sniper stays 10 steps ahead of us and more blood will be shed, I am completely cool with not knowing/releasing that info. That's the problem with most journalists (and I say that as a magazine writer myself) ... they treat all the info as fair game and report it accordingly, even if that serves to ensure that the three million residents in the metro D.C. area remain sitting ducks for that much longer.

It's for competition and ratings, I understand that, but that's why IKEA Boy and I went into print journalism as opposed to broadcast ... we have the luxury of waiting for facts to be verified before we can run them. That can bite us in the ass sometimes, as far as the turnaround time, but after people snap off their boob tubes, they pick up a paper ... to get the "full" story. And that is why the age-old question, "Will the print media become extinct?" can be answered in one little phrase ... HELL no!

IKEA Boy noted that Sniper Boy has yet to strike on a Tuesday or a weekend. Hmm. That means that the odds of someone being targeted today are pretty high. Shit. He made another good point, that every time the sniper gets away, that means that at least one more person will have to die with the token single, fatal shot to the head.

THIS JUST IN
I'm watching CNN's Headline News, and they are reporting that the sniper (the main one, I think, but there I go with my theories) is olive-skinned, like he's possibly of a different nationality. That's an interesting twist ... and here's to hoping that Mohammed (psycho stalker/caller) isn't the sniper, 'cause I'd be dead! But seriously, the theory of terrorism has been kicked around for two weeks, and while I didn't buy into it (terrorism to me would mean activities of the 9/11/01 magnitude), it may make sense. And who's not to say that once someone is caught, the gunshots will cease? Perhaps it is a small terrorist cell.

Whatever it is, we need to give up on the Michaels Craft Store Theory ... like, OMIGOD, there was a craft store in the same complex where Monday's shooting occurred. I think it's smart to make a mental note of that, but really, the store was not exactly close to the Home Depot in question. And maybe we need to start looking for OTHER vehicles, and this is where Moosehead needs to be releasing a tad bit more info.

Look, I am ashamed of some of the reporters' behavior, no question about that. But the boys in blue aren't making quick enough progress in catching this fuckhead, so it may take the public to crack the case. Thus, we NEED those digits on the license plates that some witnesses supposedly caught. We NEED to know things that we can be looking for, because we're all out crawling along the highways anyway. Might as well utilize citizens ... because we're all watching our asses anyway.

Not only has Sniper Fuck not hit on a Tuesday or a weekend, but consider this -- he hasn't shot a motorist. There must be 60,000 white vans on the highways on any given day. They are beside us, behind us, in front of us, and coming from the opposite direction. If this asshole has no problem shooting people from behind the wheel, what makes us think that we are safe as we sit in Northern Virginia's famous traffic jams? All the sniper would have to do is be in the far-right or far-left lane so that he could shoot someone and jump onto the shoulder to get the fuck away, if necessary. People drive like fucking freaks down here, and to see someone driving erratically, well, would be no real cause for alarm. I think that's the next targeted group. And if so, I will not be leaving my house, oh, EVER!!!

That's my theory, and I'm stickin' to it!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 8:21 AM

Tuesday, October 15, 2002

Sniper Fucks with the Feds

I don't want to say that it's a GOOD thing that the most recent sniper victim was an FBI special agent, but I don't want to imply that it's a bad thing, either.

FBI agents have a shitty lot in life, because their own are always getting offed. But the positive side of that is that when they get pissed, things happen. This case is going to get cracked, probably sooner rather than later, because now we've got the Feds on the warpath. Hell, even the Pentagon may become involved.

I'm more convinced than ever that our sniper is really a merry band of snipers. There are too many police composites out, consisting of: White Chevrolet Astro-type minivan with a ladder rack on its roof; Ford Econovan with a ladder rack on its roof; white box-type truck. Etcetera etcetera. Perhaps all three are truly correct composites, but a little bit of switching is going on amongst the perpetrators. Perhaps a white- or cream-colored van is planted in the same area as a box truck, so that when the box truck gets away, the van is stopped, searched and released -- hence, we think, oh well. Better luck next time. Blah.

I have SO FRIGGIN' MUCH WORK TO DO, yet I'm meeting IKEA Boy and one of his buddies for dinner. I'm gonna be here till goddamn Doomsday, pulling my articles together. Don't expect any masterpieces this month, kids. Expect miracles. 'Cause I sure am!

The Goddess Dawn @ 4:34 PM

More fun with search strings

1. drag queen parade dupont circle october 2002
2. elizabeth-forward
3. peter drucker blogs

When the hell did I write about Peter Drucker? I know his work and love it dearly, but I don't blog about him. Sheesh.

The Goddess Dawn @ 4:33 PM

12 Victims, 12 Days

Less than three hours ago, a woman was shot and killed at Seven Corners, not too far from here. Too close for comfort, in fact.

I've been glued to the TV and phone since IKEA Boy called to make sure I was tucked in snugly at home while this was happening. I was grateful for the call and quickly alerted Wobin, Chris and Leslie about it. Particularly Wobin and my grandfather are going nuts over this. If nothing else good has come of our beltway sniper, it made some old friends, including Doug and Kristin, wander out of the woodwork to send along a hello call or message. It's amazing how tragedy gives us that little wake-up call, that it could very well be us, or our loved ones, who become next on the so-very-random hit list.

And this time, it happened in a covered parking garage. Shit. That's the one place where we were fooling ourselves into believing that we could be safe. Now, where can we go to hide? Nowhere. Absolutely fucking nowhere. We're all sitting ducks.

I'm smoking like a fucking chimney (I was "clean" for two months, but it was really the damn X trips that made me crave cigarettes again, even though I haven't rolled in weeks!). My nerves are just kaput over this sniper business, though. Not to mention, at least two other shootings have occurred but were deemed unrelated or just plain inconclusive. That ain't right. Does that mean that someone else is out there, conducting their own side spree? And all this business about searching for a white or cream-colored Chevy Astro van ... is it just a decoy while the "real" killer slides away, unnoticed, while all of us who saw the composites are looking for this van, which looked suspiciously like the one parked outside my office a few days ago? When will this madness end? And will the people I care about (including myself!) live to tell this story to our children?

The Goddess Dawn @ 12:11 AM

Sunday, October 13, 2002

Ho' Improvement

When you're po', you need cheap ways to amuse yourself, so I decided to dye my hair dark and also paint my jewelry armoire. The armoire was silver with gold accents, but as I recently practically burned the thing down with candles, I had some serious scorch marks to disguise. So I bought some black craft paint and painted the top, front and sides, but I left a good bit of silver within view. Then I stenciled stars and crescent moons with a metallic silver pen. It turned out really well, but my stencils are kinda screwy because the pen kept drying up and I ended up doing a lot of them by freehand so that I could better tell when the ink was flowing. I left most of the stars as just outlines, but the ones I screwed up pretty badly, I filled in. It's kinda artsy, so I am most happy with my work.

IKEA Boy, Bryan, Paul and I went punkin-pickin' today. We drove out to Leesburg to find a farm that supposedly exists, but the hour-long trip turned into three hours. That's okay ... we totally bonded during our car ride. I love those guys. At any rate, we did find what I call Pumpkin Ghetto, because they had loads of punkins, a petting zoo and unlimited cider, apples and cheesy-cute activities that were perfect on a fall day. Fun, fun.

We drove past signs for Manassas and for Leisure World, where one of the shootings occurred. It was sobering to realize how CLOSE to home that the beltway sniper is hitting, but luckily, he seems to take weekends off, so we weren't too paranoid. But tomorrow starts another day of waiting and wondering and hoping we will live another day.

Mohammed has called my cell phone no fewer than seven times and has also text-messaged me. I ignored it every time. I regret giving him my number, because if calling seven times in 24 hours is his style, I would absoutely hate dating him. He seems desperate. I should just call back and tell him my girlfriend doesn't appreciate his insistence! lol.

I remember getting really mad at CTL, who totally put me down by saying that the reason I didn't want to date him (after months of his asking) was because he was of a different nationality. I thought I proved that untrue (I mean, I fucked him, didn't I? Albeit regrettably.) In his case, the reason I could never be interested in him was because I was in love with our mutual friend, but I was hurt that he thought I was racist. But during the past few days, I realized that I really DO want to end up with a Caucasian. I don't think this makes me a bad person, nor a racist.

I don't have too many standards, but if I feel most attracted to Caucasians, it is my right to limit my dating pool to those who get a sunburn, right? Granted, in my area, finding a white boy is damn near impossible, but I really don't want to compromise what is one of my few personal standards. I mean, I just want somebody with some amount of higher education, someone who brings in a steady income and someone with whom I would be overjoyed to spend a significant portion of my life. That's not to say that I won't fall madly in love with someone outside of those boundaries, but right now, I don't think I would be a good match for someone who doesn't meet my basic criteria. I don't even care, at this point, if it's a man or a woman, just as long as they look something like me.

I keep hitting the snooze button on the biological clock, so I know that the people I meet now might just be in my life for keeps or at least for a few months/years. I still believe in love at first sight, and if I don't feel it right away, I can't guarantee that I will ever feel it. Not to say that I can't grow to love someone, but there has to be a certain level of physical attraction initially, and just because Mohammed used a good pickup line ("May I have a light ... and your phone number?"), I need to not date just to date. I've dated/slept with more people just to do it, rather than because I wanted to invest the time in them. Unfortunately, the handful that I viewed as special obviously didn't reciprocate the passion, and that's okay. If both people aren't feeling it, then it isn't meant to be. And with Mohammed, I hate to say it, but I ain't feeling it. Am I missing out on someone special? Perhaps. But would I be wasting his time while I tried to act interested? Absolutely.

Attention men, ages 25-37, Caucasian or something close to it, who have attended a college class or more, who are making a fairly decent living and who can be cerebral as well as outright impulsive and wild, E-MAIL ME!!! PLEASE!!! (I'm 28, employed, enjoy my work, dark auburn hair/green eyes, etc. Not desperate, just tired of meeting the wrong men.) Give a despondent gal some hope. I promise you won't be disappointed!

The Goddess Dawn @ 8:35 PM

Saturday, October 12, 2002

I met a boy!

Shan and I were too hungover to do the business meeting/gym visit routine today, so I went out driving to clear my foggy head. I ended up at CVS where I met a man, Mohammed. He was acutally very good-looking and pleasant. I gave him my phone number, and he's called me at least three times (I didn't hear the phone ring), and he left one voicemail. I haven't checked it yet. He seemed sweet, but all I want is a hot white boy. Why are those so hard to find down here?!?!?!

P.S. Note that SM is now Shan, since that's what I call her anyway. The initials "SM" were reminding me too much of Her Royal Pretentiousness (HRP), my former employer. Eeeek.

The Goddess Dawn @ 2:40 PM

Fun with search strings

I checked my usage stats today, and I found that I had visitors who came to my site after running searches for:

1. Creaming over college boy's jeans
2. I met a whore in the park one day

I love seeing what people are searching the 'Net for. :)

The Goddess Dawn @ 2:38 PM

So what if it's Saturday?

My belated Friday Five:

1. If you could only choose 1 cd to ever listen to again, what would it be?
Tara MacLean's "Passenger"

2. If you could only choose 2 movies to watch ever again, what would they be?
"The Prince of Tides" and "Anywhere But Here"

3. If you could only choose 3 books to read ever again, what would they be?
Judy Blume's "Summer Sisters," Pat Conroy's "The Prince of Tides" and Anais Nin's "Henry and June"

4. If you could only choose 4 things to eat or drink ever again, what would they be?
Wild Vines' Blackberry Merlot, Pizza Perfectta's (in Pittsburgh) pizza with pesto sauce, chicken and extra cheese, Primanti Brothers' (in Pittsburgh) pastrami sandwich, and my mom's famous cheeseburger.

5. If you could only choose 5 people to ever be/talk/associate/whatever with ever again, who would they be?
As usual, I interpret the question in two ways: those currently in our lives and those we haven't seen/contacted in awhile, so of course I am going to have two lists.

Those who are in my life
1. Wobin (my mom)
2. Chris (in Minnesota) and Leslie (in Ireland) -- yes, I consider these two a unit because while we all have separate, wonderful friendships, there is just something truly special when the three of us are together.
3. IKEA Boy
4. SM
5. And last but certainly not least, Maddie

Those I'd like to see again
1. MV
2. Brat
3. CR
4. Janna
5. MV (so what if I listed her twice? she was that special to me)

The Goddess Dawn @ 2:25 PM

Friday, October 11, 2002

Random

One year ago today, it was just as rainy and miserable, but I was overflowing with hope and happiness. (One year ago tonight at midnight is a different story. ...) I had such hopes that things were going to work out with YKW and me. I remember calling him at home on my lunchtime smoke break; I remember going out to happy hour and bowling (of all things!) after I got done with work. I remember kissing him, celebrating him, wanting him. I don't think about that time much anymore, but today I'm entitled. What I wouldn't give to drown in his eyes just one more time. ...

I'll be better tomorrow. In fact, tomorrow is my one-year anniversary of driving (well, having Mom drive) Samantha Jones out of the dealership. Happy birthday Samantha!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 4:56 PM

10 Days, 10 Victims

I cannot begin to describe how freaked out we are at the office today with this newest shooting.

THIS JUST IN
Sharpshooters are stationed in a local apartment tower (I won't post it just in case the killer is computer literate), aiming at the Mobil station across the street from my work, as well as pointing toward I-395, because based on the geographical profile, if Alexandria, VA, becomes a target, that's the most likely area where the killer may strike. SM said HR told her this (and HR used to work for the FBI) -- yet they're not disseminating the info to staff, for some reason. All of us go there for gas and snacks ... why WOULDN'T she share the info?!?!

HE COULD BE IN OUR PARKING LOT, RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE!!!!

There WAS a strange white van, with black-tinted windows, parked in CompUSA's lot, about 150 yards from here. I watched it pull in and 25 minutes later, I watched it leave. No one left the vehicle, as though the driver were casing the area. It's rainy and miserable today, and he parked fairly far away from the store, where there were much closer spots available. I saw six police cars in 20 minutes cruise the area. At any rate, the van had six windows and had some kind of rails on top of it, particularly on the right side. SM is trying to get through to the tip line, just to share what I saw. Turns out that the same van parked on the other side of our building, too, according to the weird librarian. She and another employee notified the tip line of that. How strange. ...

This is so fucked up. I'm too worried to work or do anything but try to find breaking news.

On a lighter note, my newest theory: the killer is wasting a lot of gas, driving around this area, where traffic is horrendous at best. Perhaps he's road raging and simply follows bad drivers off the road to gas stations, where he pumps them full of lead while he's filling his car with unleaded gas.

At any rate, this is why I don't own a gun, 'cuz I'd be throttling bad drivers myself.

The Goddess Dawn @ 11:45 AM

Thursday, October 10, 2002

Always an Adventure. ...

I think 'Love Me Back to Life' is my favorite song so far on the new Bon Jovi album, "Bounce." That's what we all need right now, someone or something to awaken the sleeping hearts within so many of us. At any rate, Bon Jovi is on "Letterman" tonight, and that's the only reason I'm even awake ... that, and to do my Friday Five!!!

Before I get all philosophical, I just have to rant. IKEA Boy and I attended Photoshop classes in D.C. for the past two days, and we're just lucky to have not gotten shot by the area sniper who claimed his seventh victim last night. And the dumb bitch in the class, Mimi, who couldn't follow simple directions, was lucky we didn't jump on her and beat the shit out of her ... although I think the instructor might have wanted to at least have the honor of throwing the first punch. :)

But we will remember what happened OUTSIDE of classes more than we will remember the tips and tricks we learned in our sweltering little classroom.

Last night, we dragged our asses out of class and to the parking garage, only to find that he had locked his keys in his car, which the attendant couldn't park (obviously), so it sat on the ramp all day. Hee hee. Mikey saved the day -- he graciously fought rush hour traffic to bring IKEA Boy's spare car key, and then we all went to the new Starbucks in Dupont Circle to kill time until the rush hour mess lifted a bit. All told, we left the seminar at 5 p.m. and got home close to 8 p.m. Oy vey.

But his little black cloud took a rest this morning so that mine could inflict some drama in our days. After he picked me up at 7:50 this morning, we crawled along I-395 at the warp speed of 10 mph. Finally, we jumped off the highway to grab some fuel and for him to grab a sandwich and a Frap. Well, he asked me to open the Frap for him, and what I did not realize was that he had managed to unscrew the lid beneath the plastic on the bottle, so when I yanked off the plastic, I thought I'd be nice and shake up the drink before opening the cap. BIG MISTAKE!!!!!! The milky brown liquid went flying EVERYWHERE!!! Long story short, we went back to his place so that we could tidy up the messes (my shirt, jeans and cute little frog socks were saturated, and we're just happy that the car has a leather interior). At that point, it was 8:30 a.m. and the seminar began at 9. We got there at 10.

The drive there was hysterical. He whipped out his trusty crack pipe and smoked himself a fattie. Of course, I got the contact high, and we just laughed and laughed throughout the hour-plus commute. And because we figured things just couldn't possibly get any worse for us, we hopped into the HOV lane illegally ... I figured our defense would be something like, "But officer, we were so high that we truly THOUGHT there were three people in the car!!!" hee hee. Always an adventure. Always. :) I know I'm NEVER going to hear the end of this, but I don't care ... if nothing else, my life is amusing!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 11:54 PM

Tuesday, October 08, 2002

I *~heart~* Jon Bon Jovi

I actually had a sweatshirt made with that saying, decades ago, it seems. It was black with sleeves that rolled up to show a gray fleece, and it had a big red heart and white lettering. I might have been in seventh grade, so here I am 15 years later, wishing I had that shirt so I could sleep in it tonight.

I've only listened to four songs off the new CD, "Bounce," but I am loving it so far. Bon Jovi CDs are my catharsis -- kind of like warm, fuzzy pajamas or flannel sheets to me. You know they're going to feel heavenly before you even touch them, and you know you can pull them out on a crisp night and feel good while you're in them. I tend to memorize Bon Jovi song lyrics immediately in a bizarre bonding ritual with the CDs, and when I revisit the albums, even if it's years later, I haven't forgotten a single syllable or guitar riff. I think their CDs have thwarted many a bout of depression on my part.

Today, I even bought "7800 Degrees Fahrenheit," their second CD, since I finally wore out the cassette and frankly, it's the last album I had left to convert to CD (except for the "Young Guns" soundtrack, but I'm fine with having that one as a cassette). I never did buy Richie Sambora's CDs (he has two solo records), but when I have money, I'll get around to it. I loved his solo stuff, but having limited funds most of my life, I invested in Jon's solo efforts instead ... and of course I was not disappointed. Although I'm trying to get my hands on the video movie, "Destination Anywhere" -- does anyone know anyone who's selling it? My online stores aren't stocking it.

"Bounce," the new CD, is an epic. Jon and Richie were inspired to start writing material for the album after 9/11/01, and each song completes a thought that flows fluidly into the next song. Yet each song stands freely, easily, beautifully. I always feel so good when I hear one of their CDs, although "These Days" will always be my favorite. But I think this one is going to rate as one of my favorites, just because I know where their hearts were when they wrote the melodies, and someday when I force my kids to listen to these songs, I will make sure that they know why the lyrics mean so much to me. They don't tell of gore and tragedy ... they tell of finding strength and hope when it seems to have all dissolved into an ocean of tears.

My history with Bon Jovi has been a long one, since 1984 when the band debuted, although everyone really jumped on the bandwagon in '86 when "Slippery When Wet" was released. It was in '88, though, when I was lying in my bed, listening to the newly released "New Jersey," when I had the inspiration for my book series. I've been hammering out ideas for that series in the ensuring 14 years and always get a renewed interest when I hear a Bon Jovi song. It's a story about a rock star, not so surprisingly. ;) I don't talk about my series much, but I will admit that I named my characters Stephanie and Jesse, and years after I did that, Jon proceeded to have three kids, and the first two were named Stephanie Rose and Jesse James. The connection that I felt to him was so eerie ... my literary Stephanie and Jesse are like my own children, and those became his real-life children. Damn it, I need to meet this man someday. I just have to.

I saw that my other favorite artist, Melissa Etheridge, has a new book on the shelves. Who knew? I wanted it so badly, but I know my spending limits. Next pay, maybe. Or the one after that. But Bon Jovi was definitely today's priority. I bought all of their albums since "Slippery" on the first day that they were released. It's just my tradition to do that, just like I have to see them every time they play a concert in my city. There are some splurges that become necessities, and anything related to Bon Jovi qualifies as a spending emergency. ;) And in November, I will be in the record stores, buying Melissa Etheridge's concert DVD and hopefully the single for "The Weakness in Me" because I am going CRAZY without it!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 10:55 PM

Maryland/VA Shootings

This shit is getting out of control:

Map of Shootings

Let's find this fucker (or merry band of fuckers) and send him over to the Middle East ... The U.S. government isn't swift enough to hunt down Bin Laden and Hussein, but I think this nutcase might just bring us world peace, if we can redirect his anger appropriately.

It's just strange ... what's the pattern? He (they?) has hit a multitude of ages, genders and nationalities. What the fuck is going on in this world? I was so leery, putting gas in my car this morning. And I want to run out to pick up Bon Jovi's new CD at Tower today, but of course it's in a shopping mall, where trigger-happy-boy may just decide to have an after-work shooting spree.

I know ... he needs Ecstasy, so he'd want to kiss everyone instead of shooting them. heh. Just another reason to legalize drugs!!! High people don't get angry. Who's with me on this one?!?!

The Goddess Dawn @ 1:55 PM

Monday, October 07, 2002

Personal Ad Hell, Part Trois

No word from RK, re: the note I dropped him (below). No shocker there. Weirdly, though, he didn't even sign in to AIM today, and he logs on around 7 a.m. every day. Did I scare him? lol -- BOO!!! Waste of humanity, just like the rest of them.

Scary Boy Robbie has IMed a few times (I've had my "away" message on every time and truly WAS away) -- he asked finally if he scared me away. ROFL. Uh, YEAH!!! Duh!!! I should just tell him to fuck off, but perhaps he'll just drop off the radar screen within a few days. If not, then I'll tell him to blow an ass gasket elsewhere. hee hee.

Got my Virginia driver's license today (the DMV is known as the INS, and accordingly, I was the only American in there). Just looked at the damn thing, and they listed my sex as MALE. Motherfucking MALE!!! Did my breasts blind the guy behind the computer? They ain't pasties, sweetie. God damn it, now I have to go back to the INS to get it fixed. ARGH!!! I wish they hadn't confiscated my PA license -- the photo was better, the license was prettier and everything on it was correct.

Otherwise, I had a fun day with IKEA Boy, shopping and assembling a piece of furniture for his bedroom (from IKEA, lol). I drove, for a change, and I think he's going to need some more blond highlights to cover up the gray hairs I caused him to sprout today. I'm not a bad driver, just a Type A on crack. And, the spirit of Maddie invaded my body (which frightened IKEA Boy) -- I was all "Ass-HOLE!!!" and "Kiss my fat, furry ass!" on I-395. I can't help it and frankly, I don't remember much of what I said or did, other than road raged between Springfield Mall and Pentagon City. But now I know why -- I'm a man, and my driver's license says so.

One could always make the argument that I am a gay man in a woman's body, so naturally the cashier at the INS could have been confused. :)

Tiff just made my night by feeding me a sweet treat. Yum! And she also gets the Roommate of the Year Award (and so what if she's the only roomie I've had this year?) because there is a long shot that I can get a little action in a couple of weekends, and she offered to make herself scarce, just in case. Woo hoo!!! Thank you, thank you!!! At any rate, either A.) it won't happen, or B.) I'll be too messed up to even drive here, and the offer will be for naught. But at any rate, when I DO roll in after a night of partying (and because it's Madonnarama at Nation, I shall be happily fucked up!), it's usually not till after 7 a.m. anyway, so she'd probably be up and out by the time I got back here. Aaah, keep your fingers crossed for me!!! I should design a cologne called "Desperation" (or does it exist already? lol). Or, more directly, "Somebody PLEASE Fuck Me!!!" Do you think I can get Neiman-Marcus or Nordstrom to carry that fragrance? I'm tired of wearing my Heterosexual Male Repellent!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 10:11 PM

Sunday, October 06, 2002

Dollar Store Whore

Got up early and kicked off a full-blown, white-trash shopping day. And I LOVED it!!!

Went to Wal-Mart ("Wally's"), Target ("Boutique Tar-zhay") and a whole lotta "dollar stores" throughout Alexandria and Springfield. I was just one happy little dollar-store whore today. Woo hoo!!! Not to mention that SM and I cleaned out (well, she was really the one) the dollar store next to Bally's yesterday. I have lots of new crap, and it was dirt cheap (except the damn Tampax ... I refuse to buy "discount" tampons!). It's amazing what a bargain shopper I have become in recent months.

Personal Ad Hell, Part Deux
One of the reasons I liked RK was, in his ad, he stated:

"If you call with in the next 20 minutes, we will throw in the sensitive and 'nice guy' options as well as YES a set of ginsu steak knives. CALL NOW!!!! Operators are standing by."

The ad was creatively done, and it prompted me to respond (to his initial response to my ad) that he'd be sold if he just met me, and that there was a free toaster in it for him if he wasn't satisfied.

Well. ...

Inspired by yesterday's post, I wrote to him this morning. I wanted to be more "cavalier," but the fact of the matter is that I really liked the guy. Here's the note:

RK,

Well, since our brief foray into dating didn't work out, I was wondering when I would be receiving my Ginsu knives. Lol. In fact, I do believe I promised a toaster if not satisfied. Where shall I mail that? :)

I was just ranting on my website and figured I'd share a compliment with you. You were the most normal and interesting respondent I've gotten, and I've received a bunch. You were the only one, though, that I was inclined to meet and to actually retain a contact with (I had a sense that you would become someone special in my life ... And I have had to deal with the fact that my intuition was completely off). Now the match.com folks are telling me I have to pay to respond to my newest letters, so I pulled my profile. Gone. Poof. I just wondered if the women who respond to these ads are as, well, "special" as some of the men.

At any rate, I donít expect a response. I'm heading out to Starbucks to drown my sorrows in a caramel macchiato, so hope all is well with you and here's to hoping that the ever elusive love connection that we both seek can happen for both of our wayward souls at some point in this journey we call life. :)

Cavalier


Mom said that if he DOES send a set of knives, that would be the best damn real-life love story she'd ever heard of. But then again, would he really trust me with a knife? We ARE just a few miles from where Lorena Bobbitt chopped off Johnny's proud little pecker ... RK might hope to NOT inspire me in such a way!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 6:12 PM

Personal Ad Hell

I decided to hide my Match.com personals profile, and I should do the same with my ad on Kiss.com. I still haven't gotten any responses to my Lavalife.com ad, so I am going to leave that one up for awhile. Besides, on the last one, I was a bit outrageous and asked for, well, what I really want. And that's probably why I'm not getting it!!! lol

Match.com is being bitchy and telling me that I have to purchase a membership package in order to respond to recent letters I've received from other members. Humph. Never had to do that before. With Kiss.com, you have to purchase a membership before you can even read the letters you've received (and they keep telling me that my inbox has quite a few responses, but I have to pay to open my inbox). Fuckers. Look, I know that it isn't some philanthropist named Cupid who is operating these sites, but based on the yo-yos I've either met or with whom I've had discussions, I am loath to pay to meet more morons, when I can do that for free at the bar at Bennigan's. ;)

Recently, I got a response from "Robbie" (that's what he calls himself). Seemed nice and fun and a tad bit scary, all at once. Then he sent me a link to his website, and well, the photo totally turned me off. I'm not into horror and gore and shit like that, and well, considering that I've never met the guy and this is my first impression of him, well, I can't say that I'm dying to meet him in person.

But it gets worse. He said he's an aspiring writer and mentioned that he'd love it if I'd be willing to critique some of his fiction (as I am a writer for a living). I said, sure, send me something and I'd be glad to read it. Well, he sent something two days ago that I still haven't managed to bring myself to read. When I saw it in my email, it was named "assgas~1.doc." Ugh. I let it sit in my inbox for half a day before I actually opened it to learn that the title was actually "ass gasket" -- what the f@*k?!?! Perhaps it is a brilliant story, and I am just too prissy to get past the title, but gaaah, would a normal single man send something like this to the lady whom he's trying to impress?

I sent a quick note late last night, stating that the title scared me and that when I found the time (and hint, hint, the inclination) to open this document, I'd get back with my critique. That still hasn't happened. :) I shared the web photo with Tiff and IKEA Boy and Mikey, and they were all slightly horrified and all of them told me to NOT e-mail back. Thank goodness, I didn't share my last name or place of employment. Thank goodness.

With RK, I shared all of my personal stuff right away. I wanted to get to know him, and I wanted him to know me. I had such a good feeling about him, like he would be in my life for a long time to come. How was I to ever predict that he'd fall off the face of the fucking earth?!?! I'm disappointed that my intuition told me that he was special. My sixth sense usually pegs people correctly from the get-go, and it's sad that I had a whole lotta hopes for him, for nothing.

At any rate, this new guy emailed me, named Brian. But I can't respond to his charming introductory letter till I pay a RECURRING membership fee at Match.com. That's how they screw you ... they keep on billing your credit card. It's $25/month, with different plans that go up to $100/yr. I would NEVER pay for those services for a year (in the hopes I'd meet someone sooner than that). But I don't have $25 to spare right now (I have two phone bills on my bed, each totaling more than $60, for phone service I don't even fucking use because all normal people on earth use their cell phones for everything and I hate wasting what little fucking money I have on a fucking landline. Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ!!!! ARGH!!!).

But I'll never win that battle, so why even keep trying? Even IKEA Boy is trashing his landline. I'd love to show MCI (like I showed Verizon) that I can live just fine without their monthly bills.

At any rate, I have to pay $25 before my e-mails will go through to Brian (and I tried pushing them through, but Match.com keeps reminding me to pay before I try it again). I'm not sure what to do. At this point, I took down my personal ad for awhile. If I can't reply to my responses, why even have the ad out there? Like IKEA Boy told me tonight, I should just go into a bar and pick somebody up ... it's easier and cheaper!!! Plus, you get to see what they look like in person, and if you're lucky, you won't even have to talk to them all that much! lol. Sounds like a new plan to pursue. Stay tuned. ...

The Goddess Dawn @ 12:32 AM

Friday, October 04, 2002

A Friday Five in honor of 'Carrie Bradshaw'

Oooh, a Friday Five that's fit for a "Sex and the City" gal. ...

1. What size shoe do you wear?
If I'm being cheap and going to Payless, I'd say a 9, but that depends on how crappy the shoes are made, because that can become a 9 wide very easily. In a good shoe, I'd say 8 1/2, but when can I afford to buy good shoes? ;)

2. How many pairs of shoes do you own?
Um, upward of 60. Maybe 75. Or more. I have boxes of shoes that I haven't even opened since my hellacious move in June.

3. What type of shoe do you prefer (boots, sneakers, pumps, etc.)?
Mmm. Love sandals with a wedge. I'm 5-foot-3 and three-quarters, so anything that pushes me up to that 5-foot-4 mark makes me happy. Sandals rule! I love to paint my toenails and wear toe rings and anklets, to complement the shoes of the day. :)

4. Describe your favorite pair of shoes. Why are they your favorite?
I can't even remember most of the shoes that I've bought over the last year, if that tells you how fickle I am. But I do have a pair of winter-white boots that make me look forward to inclement weather. They're more fashionable than functional, but I love light-colored boots (because I think black shoes in general make me look shorter), especially with a two-inch-heel (again, the shortness issue is resolved). And they just go with everything!!!

5. What's the most you've spent on one pair of shoes?
$29.99. I'm not kidding -- I go for quantity over quality. I figure, the damn things wear out anyway, and you always have assholes and/or their bratty kids stepping on your feet when you're out in public, so why spend oodles of money on something you're going to eventually pitch? Although when it comes to boots, I've been known to spend a little more on those (at least $70) because those just don't come cheap. Boots are worth the investment because when some trailer trash mama and her little minions come a-stompin' on your feet, one kick with a booted foot, and you've just rid mama of one mouth to feed, unless she pulls Junior out of the tree that you just booted him into!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 8:01 AM

Thursday, October 03, 2002

Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ

This workplace is reminding me more and more of Two Strikes, but I actually paid my former employer a compliment today. Here, the executives all hate each other and can't agree on anything, but at Two Strikes, we all had respect for each other and took the care and effort to battle things out among ourselves so that we would emerge with a common message for the staff. Some of our arguments were downright brutal, but damn it, we all had our say and therefore we all believed in the messages we conveyed. Here, you get five different messages from five different execs.

At any rate, the waters are still. For now. Pussy Demure apologized to IKEA Boy for the junior high comment but could not respond when he asked why he was not included in a meeting about the editorial content of our publication -- after all, he's only the editor. She slithered away in a huff ... I saw her dragging her crusty ass past my door in a dither as she exited his office.

Jackie Chan not only edited the "fired" portion of the past president's quote, but he pretty much deleted a quarter of the article and softened another percentage of it. Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ. I emailed SM to ask for us to make appointments together at IKEA Boy's psychiatrist ... it seems as if she and I are the only two people in this building who aren't medicated. Perhaps we should hop on the bandwagon before it's too late.

Lest it not be obvious, I have NO DESIRE WHATSOEVER to do any work. Today was a waste of a perfectly good suit. :) And the scandalous underwear -- I should've saved 'em for Oct. 7 (see post below).

The Goddess Dawn @ 11:06 AM

Wednesday, October 02, 2002

An occasion to wear scandalous underwear!!!

Wear your best red guchies on Oct. 7, okay? You KNOW I'll be wearing some scandalous red knickers myself!!!

Red Panties for Reproductive Choice

The Goddess Dawn @ 10:54 PM

Credit may go to Monty Python. ...

... But it sounds like an old George Carlin skit to me!

C'mon kids! Let's play "hide and go fuck yourself!!!"

Proper English Usage of the 'F' Word

The Goddess Dawn @ 8:52 PM

Part Deux

IKEA Boy is ready to quit, and I can't blame him.

Pussy Demure said something to the effect that maybe he needs to look for another job. Like her miserable, 80-year-old crusty ass has any room to talk! Jesus H. It was HER FAULT that the bullshit about being "fired" went through, even though it was a direct quote. But apparently she met with Jackie Chan and H.R. and Howard (WTF?) before meeting with IKEA Boy (sneaky bitch, I knew she was going to do that). She completely made this seem like his fault, which it wasn't.

Plus, she also made some catty remark that in the 1990s (the topic of his story that's in question), he was in junior high school. What a cunt! We were out of college, actually, during the events in question, but that was just nasty of her, to imply that she thinks he's a kid. He could sue her for that. IKEA Boy, if you're reading this, document that conversation!!!

Now he has left the building, and he just phoned me to say he's going to quit. I will absoutely freak if he does that ... I know I made this 250-mile move for myself, but I am not suffering through this crappy pay and zombie-like work environment if he isn't here. I swear, if he's going to New York, I'm stuffing myself in his trunk and going with him. Like I said two posts ago, I can take or leave D.C. -- I'm a better person for having lived here, but it isn't my endpoint.

Blah. I'm being selfish. But I don't know how to make things better for him in this working environment. I've tried to share my knowledge and the hard knocks that Two Strikes gave me. But even I had to know when it was time to walk away from a displeasing job situation. It's just a shame, because IKEA Boy really throws himself into his work, and he's always treating the gals in the Pub Club to breakfasts in his office (he knows we have soft spots for Krispy Kreme doughnuts and also for bagels-n-cream-cheese). It just sucks that we work for assholes. But isn't that the story of our lives?

I just hope IKEA Boy comes up with maybe a revised game plan ... it would suck to have to leave on their terms. I'd rather see him demonstrate that today's debacle made it seem like his professional reputation was questioned, and that he is truly a professional who just wants to end this mess so that we can start the new issue without the specter of this one hanging over our heads. I disagree with our superiors completely, but hey, it's their money and aggravation, not ours. We've done our jobs.

At any rate, just got a quick call from IKEA Boy that he's meeting with Jackie Chan tomorrow morning. Kiddo, stay cool and say your peace. Do NOT let your (quite justifiable) anger see the light of day. Be the better person. Be better than these assholes -- believe me, it's not hard to do. ;)

The Goddess Dawn @ 3:14 PM

Sheesh

Pussy Demure, IKEA Boy's boss, put her Depends on sticky-side up today. Or do they even have a sticky side? lol -- at any rate, somebody's panties are in a bunch, and hell will be paid.

We have to get our publication reprinted because of one word. One fucking word! IKEA Boy wrote a story about our association in the 1990s, and a former president talked about having to fire an executive director. Well, even though the talk of firing the man was a direct quote, Pussy Demure made us collect all the newspapers that had been distributed, and after a meeting this afternoon with the current executive director, Jackie Chan, we'll give the go-ahead to the printers to burn $20K to reprint. I think she's just nervous because she gave us final approval on the article -- Jackie Chan didn't, and he's usually the final pair of eyes.

I understand that "fired" is an incorrect term, and that as part of the paperwork that documented the man's exile from our organization, no one was to speak about his leaving on bad terms. Oopsie. But really, that wasn't our fault internally -- the past president who flapped his yapper is of sound mind and knew that his statements would be used for publication. Further, as far as I am concerned, Pussy Demure KNEW she was the last pair of eyes to see the story, because Jackie Chan was out of the office and we had to go to press that day. Furthermore, the story was late because Jackie Chan and the past presidents were late in submitting their interview quotes to IKEA Boy.

As Sheela and I would have said when we were at Easter Seals, "WHAT A PRODUCTION!!!"

From what I've gathered, more than 20,000 copies have dropped throughout the country already, leaving 40,000 in limbo at the print shop. Oy vey. We might as well drop the rest and take our chances.

I'm just hoping that this is the worst of it. I can think of a few more things they may question, but as far as I am concerned, any issues dealing with a person's dismissal should be handled with kid gloves, especially in print. But for the fact that we're squabbling over a direct quote, well, it seems a non-issue. I just can't believe we're going to drop $20K to change ONE WORD!!!!! ARGH!!!!!!!!!!

The Goddess Dawn @ 12:41 PM

Tuesday, October 01, 2002

'Freeways, cars and trucks'

"Well my time went so quickly,
I went lickety-splickly out to my old '55
As I drove away slowly, feeling so holy,
God knows, I was feeling alive.

Now the sun's coming up,
I'm riding with Lady Luck,
freeway cars and trucks,
Stars beginning to fade,
and I lead the parade

Just a-wishing I'd stayed a little longer,
Oh, Lord, let me tell you
that the feeling's getting stronger.

And it's six in the morning,
gave me no warning; I had to be on my way.
Well there's trucks all a-passing me,
and the lights are all flashing,
I'm on my way home from your place.

And now the sun's coming up,
I'm riding with Lady Luck,
freeway cars and trucks,
Stars beginning to fade,
and I lead the parade

Just a-wishing I'd stayed a little longer,
Oh, Lord, let me tell you
that the feeling's getting stronger.

And my time went so quickly,
I went lickety-splickly out to my old '55
As I pulled away slowly, feeling so holy,
God knows, I was feeling alive.

Now the sun's coming up,
I'm riding with Lady Luck,
Freeway cars and trucks,
freeway cars and trucks,
freeway cars and trucks..."

-- Tom Waits, "Ol' 55" -- (covered by Sarah McLachlan in 1995)


Went back to Pittsburgh this weekend and am dealing with a mixed bag of emotions right now about it.

First of all, I've been sick for a week and am feeling no better. But I needed this trip. Had to see the family -- god knows when it's going to be the last time you hug them, given their frail health and general lack of wanting to live this life any longer.

I've come to enjoy the drive -- I'm still a bit of a tense driver, but the scenery was just beautiful. Throughout Pennsylvania, the leaves -- which are in plentiful supply -- had already begun turning crimson, orange and yellow. The trees in Virginia that aren't brown and/or dead from dry weather are still green.

Made it a point to actually go into Pittsburgh instead of just hanging out in the 'burbs. Drove to the South Side with Wobin on Sunday, went to Fat Heads South Shore Saloon, which has the best damn food on the planet, and then we drove up to Mount Washington for old times' sake. Went past my old apartment, where there used to be a life-size Garfield, which Wobin had made out of construction paper for me. The new tenant had some stupid "Happy Halloween" doo-dad on my door. I know my strange next-door neighbor Tom had kidnapped Garfield, to give him a home because I had been planning to drag him to the curb, along with most of my clothes, books and furniture during those hellacious moving days.

At any rate, I took Wobin to my favorite place on earth, Grandview Park. It's a tiny park, one that you'd miss it if you blinked, but it has one overlook where you can get the best panoramic view of my old city. I stood there and just sobbed. I realize that the city will always be there for me when I go back, and that's a big thing for me. Not a building was out of place (post-911 jitters -- when I lived there, I always checked the skyline every day and was grateful that it was still intact), nothing seemed different. Only I was different, the oddity. I haven't explored my new city all that much, but all I can say is that my old city seemed smaller than I remembered it to be. But it was just as beautiful and inviting. The people were so much friendlier and, well, the people who love me most still live there.

It was so hard, being with my family. I love them and will forever admire them for all that they sacrificed (and continue to sacrifice) for me -- they would literally give me their last dollars, even if that means that they do without something that they need. My grandfather was all bandaged and bruised from several recent surgeries, yet he handed me some money that he'd hidden away (even from my mother) because he worries that I drive the car on fumes sometimes, waiting till payday to fill it up. Told me to go out and buy myself a good meal at a restaurant instead of trying to make do with whatever I have in the house. And he wouldn't let me refuse to take it, even though we all know he needs it more than I ever will.

That reminded me of my grandmother, when she was alive, because she would always make sure I had something in my hand when I left from a visit with her. She always made my mom set aside a particular amount from her meager Social Security check for me. She was someone who loved to go shopping and had to have the newest and best of everything, and when she became incapacitated in her final years, it was her joy to know that I could afford to buy pretty things for myself, thanks to her.

And then there's my mom, who would do anything and then some for me. She baked two little loaves of banana bread (my favorite) an hour before I left the house yesterday (one for me and one for IKEA Boy, to say thank-you to him for letting me sneak away from Virginia for a long weekend) -- and she wouldn't let me leave the house without those. I wish her life were better, and I feel like at my age, I should be helping her out and not the reverse. I feel like I am her twin, though, and not her daughter. Our relationship was always more of a friendship than a mother-daughter interaction. I love that sometimes, I don't have to say a word, and she knows exactly what's going on in my head. She feels like we're losing that ability over the miles, but I think it's stronger than ever.

I don't know. Emotional days. First drug-free weekend in three weeks -- gaaah!!! That's when I needed it most!!! lol.

I don't see myself staying in Virginia for too long, but I suppose I brought back a brand-new appreciation for it. I drove around for a couple of hours yesterday before I went back to the abode. Maddie didn't even complain all that much -- she shut up after we crossed the Mason-Dixon line and only howled when I hit 65 and 75 mph, keeping us out of a ticket, I suppose. lol. I decided that it's okay to both hate and love my old life, as well as hate and love my new life. And if I could just combine the best elements of the two worlds, I'd be set ... and perhaps I can do that, in yet another city. Could I go back to Pgh? Possibly -- because I'm already more worldly in certain respects, and I am satisfied with my quick venture into the great unknown. But life has got to get even better than this, and if I would remove the worries about finances, I'd be so much happier here, I know it. Changes keep happening, both good and bad, and I have to keep remembering to roll with the punches instead of trying to fight back. Sometimes, you've got to let life flow, even when it sucks, because that just means the rainbow is that much more vibrant when you finally see it.

Before I went on the Turnpike headed home to Virginia, I stopped at my old bank and closed my account ... the one I've had since I was four years old. It was sad, the finality. I only had two bucks in the account anyway, but it was kind of like closing a chapter of my life.

But Pittsburgh will always be in my heart. No question about that. D.C. isn't an area where people stay for very long. But Pittsburgh is, and it -- and the people in it -- will remain embedded within you, even when you think you've left it behind.

The Goddess Dawn @ 9:58 PM

Bring it On, Baby. ...


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