Caterwauling

I have been on this ridiculous quest for the perfect bloody mary. I figure, I used to be on the warpath toward finding the best amaretto sours drink (Alexander’s Pasta Express in Pittsburgh — theirs are frozen and to simply die for), so I have needed a new goal.

To date, I think Jack Stack’s serves the best bloody mary, but as it’s in Kansas City, Mo., and I am (happily) not the slightest bit close to that area, I have found a more-than-suitable first runner-up in that department in the Red Rock Canyon Grill’s “ultimate bloody mary.”

Let’s just say that was dinner last night. I mean, those come with grape tomatoes, olives and shrimp. *full-body orgasm* I also had a Yuengling for dessert.

Speaking of full-body orgasms (just kidding), there are actually some attractive men in Maryland. Really. I was just in Pittsburgh, where I actually had men approaching me and talking to me and flirting with me, and here I live in this body-to-body yet barren wasteland known as Northern Virginia where I couldn’t pick up a man with a dogcatcher’s net. But then again, with most of them, I wouldn’t really want to. 😉 Perhaps this is yet another reason to expedite my move — for the scenery!

Speaking of scenery, I loved the restaurant. The food smelled good (but I will never eat in public. Really. I usually end up with more ON me than IN me, so why make an ass out of myself when I simply have my verbal dysentery to take care of that for me?). But what I loved was the crackling fire outside of the restaurant — I dig that smoky smell and wish that someday I can actually have a fireplace of my own (those things are fabulous at destroying evidence, too, but I digress. LOL).

And the restaurant is set in the middle of a man-made lake and I had to hoof across a little wooden bridge to get there. Way cute. Seriously, I need to start carrying a camera with me more — especially because I saw the sun dipping behind the trees through the walls of windows. *sigh* I might’ve been born at dawn (hence the name) but the night is my time.

Oh yeah, good conversation and all that too, naturally. It’s nice to crawl out of my hole and realize that there is in fact a life out there to be lived.

I know, you’re wondering WTF the entry title is all about. Well, thanks for asking — I will tell you. Some of us were talking about going to movies, and I inquired whether someone stays for the credits.

The reason I ask is simple — I love to watch the credits when I go to a movie. Sometimes, it’s because a fantastic song is playing and I simply cannot leave until I’ve heard the whole thing, else I’m waiting to see the song list in general so I can hit iTunes when I go home.

But why I really stay? I’m waiting for an Easter Egg. You know, the hidden jewel that’s meant to reward — some last scene or surprise tacked onto the end of the credits. Even if it never comes, I know that I didn’t miss out on a single thing.

And I think that’s a good motto for my life right now. I’m waiting for some amount of hidden joy — a surprise that’s worth hanging in there for, even if I have no idea what it is.

At this point, I am not even sure what I *want* it to be, truth be told, but I can’t give up hoping that someday, I’m going to find the point to this journey — that this blind faith that things are going to turn out OK is going to be rewarded in some fashion.

That, after all the stops and starts and aspirations and heartaches, I’m going to be smart enough and tough enough and humbled enough to have earned my happy ending. (Or, at the very least, a good climax!)

Oh, and duh, here’s YOUR Easter Egg — in the form of tunage, natch!

On iTunes: Emiliana Torrini, “Tuna Fish”

This entry was posted on Friday, September 9th, 2005 at 6:35 AM and is filed under Existential Meanderings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.