Caterwauling

I’m thrilled to say my readership is now near zero.

Thank Christ my superfans seem to have moved on.

Here’s hoping I have my safe space back.

Which is what I’m struggling with right now.

My friend who thought I was an anti-Semite over some stupid meme I don’t even remember is back.

I’ve never been de-friended and sent that person a friend request.

But she, after I de-friended her, just sent me a friend request.

My engagement is down on socials, too, since Zuck and Elon promote Nazis and squelch the rest of us.

But, I have “lost” 600-some friends since the fat fascist’s first term. I’m good.

Also, of late all she really did was write “fuck trump” under all my posts. A sentiment near and dear to my heart, of course. But not exactly intellectual discourse.

Honestly, she reminded me of my mom’s friends who used to post comments on all my content. (And ignore mom’s posts completely.)

Mom would get SO mad at their illiterate shit. She told me to block her friends, and I did.

Now, I sit here staring at this new friend request.

Like, I never had a problem with her. I just needed her to quit posting on all my content when I wasn’t done being annoyed.

It’s not like I can tell her what’s going on at the company. Which is still my primary source of entertainment.

Anyway, I know I’ve made five molehills out of a molehill.

I just know that I’m not fascinating enough for all this attention.

And yes I need friends. But … I dunno … maybe new ones?

As I lay awake through four hours of fire alarms last night, I watched “Big Hero 6” (I love Baymax!) and got to thinking.

For me being an editor since I was 16, I am quite unedited.

Like, I polish up every piece of content that comes my way. I like to think I help the writers present their best selves to the world.

But when it has come to me, I’ve always just vomited out my thoughts, as I’ve had them.

Which, as I’ve said in these pages, has gotten me into trouble during meetings. It’s gotten me into trouble as recently as yesterday, as I just do me and ask forgiveness later.

But I also think about the stuff I just “don’t wanna” do. And the lengths I go to, to avoid it.

I truly will clean my house before I write performance reviews or work on a newsletter that goes out in my boss’ name.

I would rather clean up cat vomit than do my taxes or return a shitty online purchase.

And I have no ability to pretend otherwise.

Like, I think of how mom always said I needed to learn to flirt to catch a man. Or how HR directors have wanted me to maybe just not talk about my politics or whatever.

Then I have MAGA types coming to me with their MAGA shit. And I DO edit myself to some extent. Like that’s cute, did you want my actual opinion or is that y’alls thing, to remind us that you’re in power?

Like the whole Spencer Pratt thing.

The fact that I have to think about that weird ass crystal collecting former liberal reality star turned MAGA which got him an endorsement from the King of the Pedophiles.

The fact that this asshole was so mad that his (uninsured) house burned down so he had to force Heidi’s music on us (uh, no) and now he’s foisted HIMSELF on us with a mayoral campaign. For what, money?

Trust fund baby has been living just fine. But he’s using rivers of AI to create ads, whilst complaining there was no water to put out the fire at his house.

Like do you people even hear yourselves?

The only joy I take is that he campaigned in Beverly Hills and other places outside LA, and then all these maga morons show up to vote without knowing they can’t vote in LA.

Yet that stupid fucking party says it’s MY party that’s finding ways to vote illegally.

Bitch, if I COULD vote on behalf of my dead mother and myself in LA, I’d vote YET AGAIN for the overqualified black woman (Karen Bass) …

And not the narcissistic abusive ex-liberal who figured out that the world’s stupidest people will vote for him if he goes up against her.

This is why I’ve been in my “hermit year” for five years.

You really want my unedited opinions? I think I am doing a service to everyone by trying to keep them to myself over here.

And honestly while I have more peace when I am not sharing my unedited thoughts, fuck it — if I gotta hear all y’alls, maybe y’all should hear … really hear … mine too.

In any event, when I watched Handmaid’s Tale, I always identified with June’s mom. The one sent off to the nuclear waste pits to die for being mouthy.

Like, they’re going to crucify us for having — and stating — our opinion.

“What if I roll the stone away?
They’re gonna crucify me anyway”

It’s just wild that they’re all out there like oh liberals think we’re dumb … while they judge us for using logic and reason to come up with conclusions that run counter to theirs.

Anyway, I should probably edit this or myself a lot more, I guess. I just figure we only get so many years on this planet. We follow laws and rules and obey signs. We spend our days working when we should be out in the sun but can’t afford to do that.

So let us have our thoughts and the way we want to express them. It’s literally the only thing that’s ours.

God knows our healthcare choices aren’t ours, nor access to said healthcare in many cases, thanks to reality stars-turned-politicians going back to Republican Jesus Ronnie.

I’d rather do my taxes than see sucky Spencer’s AI videos to prove I’m open-minded to someone who will crucify me anyway for being a “libturd.”

I spent the entire day on the phone yesterday giving performance reviews.

Even those who aren’t required to have one due to contract status.

Overall, I think I gave fair grades. My one staffer even wanted to frame something I wrote. (It was rather hilariously true.)

I’m just glad that my people don’t need to go take a break until their eyes can focus again.

They all hung up knowing their biggest fan is always going to be their boss.

Five stars to me, is all I gotta say, for achieving that.

Like I told one of them, for our customers, you have become the advocate you needed five years ago. I recognize that as someone who had to become my own advocate so I could advocate for my people.

She beamed.

I got to thinking about how I don’t have my mom here to remind me how awesome her baby is.

How she could override even the sharpest, and occasionally even accurate, criticism.

And how lucky I am to STILL have her voice in my head.

And since my people are going to have MY voice in THEIR heads …

I want them to hear the words — and yes, the tough ones too — with the love that I intended.

Even the tough stuff gets received. Another said, “You could bark at me and it would be completely understandable. You don’t. But even if you did, I would be like yeah I get it.”

I think that’s where I am with everything. I know where I fell short. But if the short grade is applied somewhere else, I’m not going to argue.

Like I got an average customer service score. Fine. I can always do better.

But someone reminded me of the customer avatars I drew up — with actual photos from an event — and how she loved that.

Which I forgot about because a louder voice in my head hated it.

So maybe that got me a 3 but someone else would have given me a 4.

And honestly, I’m OK with that.

Now, I warned my people the danger with 4s is they can only go down or stay the same. So, with great marks comes great responsibility.

No one knows better than me, is what I left unsaid, what happens when you go from working 14 hour days to giving what you can, when you can.

And it’s been nice not having that pressure personally for the past two years.

My friend who reminded me “Whose” I am said he thinks I’ve got great things in store this year and he can’t wait to see what I do when I find my passion again.

Same, brother. Same.

Got to talking with a friend today about a very awful event.

Another friend unalived herself a few years back. I was in shock.

I got the news just after I told 10 people that day was their last day. (Employed, not on earth)

What prompted me to revisit that awful hell today?

My friend today was saying that she carries insane guilt for laying off someone and then they unalived themselves shortly after.

Like, it was hard enough to tell her staff that she’d done the layoff. But then to call with THAT news …

And I was triggered.

I’ve never spoken about this otherwise, but that’s why my friend died.

She lost a beloved job. Couldn’t replace it. Couldn’t find much of anything, really.

Depression took hold. She picked her exit.

I got the call when someone went through her search history and saw that I was in it.

Back then, I learned a valuable lesson about how to communicate with my superior.

I brought up how affected I was by the layoffs. How all these people had plans and I’ve altered their economic destines.

How sick I felt that my friend killed herself over a layoff.

The reaction wasn’t what I expected. Which was basically that I used the phrase “I don’t care” about businesses when people are hurting. Therefore, I am not a team player.

I realized oh shit he thinks I’m a liability now.

Like, I’m not a snowflake who needs a safe space. But I let my people use their 1:1 time to say whatever they want so we can fix the problem and move on from it.

I clearly have to either call Kelly or keep it to myself now that my mom’s dead.

So, my performance review anxiety predates 2024 when my mom was dying five feet away. (It was one year earlier that I lost that friend.)

Our communication has … increased in frequency.

But it goes better when I’m in a state of stasis. Which I usually am anyway.

I just let a couple situations get me emotional.

Who do I think I am, the s(h)itting president?

I have seven easy tasks that have been haunting me all week.

And here we are on this Sunday night, finally with no distractions … and I am still like fuck it, I’d rather clean.

Narrator: No I am not cleaning.

I did take a few moments to talk with my Tarot cards about it.

For fun, I asked where I can get some AI bro money to buy a house in San Fran (theoretically) like everyone else is.

I got the nostalgia card (Six of Cups).

Maybe an inheritance, maybe an old investment or two, maybe I have something valuable I can part with for cash.

Hmm.

I did some meditating on what I really want.

And honestly? It popped into my head before I even completed the question.

I want a month off.

Not to travel. Not even staycation. A month to not try to write for people who don’t write their own newsletters. A month to just clean and organize my house.

And if I somehow do that early, then sit home and enjoy it. Read a book. Who cares.

I asked what would motivate me. Knight of Cups. Fast love. So … getting my space to the point where it will welcome friends and others.

What’s blocking me? Hermit. Loving the solitude. Not wanting to exchange it for whatever weird shit is in half of the Seven of Cups.

I asked for a quick career reading and not shockingly it’s the Four of Swords. Self-induced stress.

So I said what if I do learn how to do a new skill where I’m at, does it even matter.

Four of wands. Wedding. Stability. Belonging. Harmony. Maybe since I am talking finances, a pooling of resources. (Maybe take a roommate if not a groommate.)

One of my more interesting readings. I shuffled after each question, which I never really do.

Here’s hoping that inheritance comes through.

I do have one in the works. It’s not big. But Grampy had a very tiny asset tied up and it’s taken me 20-odd years to try to un-tie it.

That’s so my family, though. They struggled and starved and “did without,” but

* My Uncle Stan gave me a check to help me get started with college.

* My Gram handed me $40 out of every $200 social security check she received. And she insisted that I have a couple of good gold pieces (jewelry) so I’d never be broke.

* Grampy collected some artifacts in Nazi Germany that I should get appraised if everyone I know in the collectibles industry wasn’t a damn crook. And he always insisted I get a cut of his annual clothing allowance for school clothes.

* Mom hid money all over the house and I ended up with a nice travel budget. At least, it covered two Eras Tour jaunts (Miami and NOLA). She used to leave a $50 under the mat for gas, too, after Gram was gone.

That’s not to discount other generosity shown to me along the way.

* My friend Gail bought me a gold necklace and an Etienne Aigner bag so I could fit in at fancy work events.

* And my cousin Carole, while she got tired of being generous (of her own choosing to do so) was the reason I had a roof over my head for several months. Along with other nice things she did along the way. Again, unasked.

* Even Jean, who gave me a computer for school. Though my mom had to kiss her ass for 10 years for it, after my grandfather had to kiss her ass for 10 years before that. But still. I benefited from my family’s sacrifices.

So I have no business hoping for an inheritance in any way.

But, you know, my family was so kind that they would be joyful that decisions they made paid off for me.

I do think they’d look at me now and say look at how our investment paid off.

Kelly recommended a taco place and a boba place.

I plugged them into my GPS and had to laugh at the location.

Right by the old office. In the very same spot where myself and (redacted) snuck off many a morning for breakfast.

As soon as I sat at the bar, I saw they had Fat Heads’ Bramble Berry beer.

Mom and I went to Fat Heads quite often when they opened up in ’92 or ’93. And I got to sneak back there when I saw Taylor Swift in Pittsburgh in 2023.

Anyway that was a nice moment, to raise a cheers to Mom with our beer.

But then! They started playing Celeste’s “Stop This Flame.”

Mom LOVED that song. It was in “Sex/Life” and it played while Billie was running through the streets of Soho to Brad’s apartment.

I got to Soho last summer. Not that easy to run those streets. But I hope that Momma got to do it finally.

Anyway, what are the odds I was drinking her beer and listening to her song at the same time? And in a spot where I spent many happy days of my own?

Well this slaps.

Insane AITA post on Reddit about a woman who paid for her sister’s wedding, the sister opened up a credit line in her name without alerting her to pay for more wedding shit, and OP canceled it all after being disinvited.

I was already starting to think boy does this sound like work when I hit this comment:

“This may be fiction based on a real letter, but it’s so true. You’re fine as long as you are an ATM and doormat, but the second you stop, you’re the bad guy.

“It’s also the same in the workplace. The guy who is always there, always does his job, never drops the ball, never makes mistakes, covers others’ work when asked, gives up time to stay late or come early when needed gets called ‘not a team player’ the first time they cannot cover for somebody.”

I thought about something Kelly said, over some average grades I got on being “for the team” and “for the customer.”

She said you’d walk through fire for your team and anyone is an idiot who doesn’t know that. And you provide more customer support than most.

I said well yeah I’ll agree with the first part. And possibly the second but I can definitely do more.

But really … now that I don’t work 14-hour days to support my mom and me … it’s noticed.

I missed mom’s whole life. She sat in this house all day, all week, alone. I had the car. I never came home to those nice dinners she had on the table at 6:30.

I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO BE HOME AT SIX FUCKING THIRTY.

Especially after leaving at like 6 or 7 A fucking M.

So yeah, once you give less … which really just means you’re giving more to YOURSELF … you get downgraded/downvoted.

The good news is I’ve left behind the version of me who would put in an extra hour a day in hopes of earning more respect or at least catching up.

I’m so sorry, Momma. I stayed employed and you stayed lonely. That’s why I don’t “lock in” … why I can’t lock in even when i want to. When all I want to do is just check out.

“Think of all the time
I’ll have with you
When I don’t wake up on my own.
Wake up on my own.
Held close all the time.
Because I’m half of you.”

I got to talking with an industry friend about my performance review.

She was pissed off at a few things.

She is also 100% honest with me when I am wrong, so when she was like “Bro that’s bullshit, what’s that guy’s number so I can introduce him to you?” I felt vindicated.

As for my supposedly improved attitude, she said you should have just said yeah my mom died five days after my last review; I’m a little less fucking stressed now.

Also, literally she and I and another of our friends could run not just the company but the entire industry if anyone would let us.

I mean, not in our current states. But, it’s just so funny to be told they want ideas — when the very thing that I got an “attitude” about was not being consulted on the product I would spend the next 2 years WRITING.

I wonder if it went unsaid that I’ve not been evil to Don’t Treadmill on Me.

Look, she’s still annoying but since she quit bitching at me so hard for a year and a half that I hung up on her every time, we’re fine.

I swear she got some HRT in her system.

Whatever the case, it’s a damn shame that I have been mostly kind for years and yet *I* get branded as having the attitude.

It’s times like this I wonder if I were skinny … if I had dangly bits … if I were a Republican … because I very much feel like they would make a difference.

My friend was sort of perplexed at my action plan for the year.

Then she said you know what, you should totally learn the open position’s skills. And promote Jim to your job.

After it was out of her mouth, she paused. “Or is that other job a ‘dangly bits’ one and you have the girly job so maybe you promote Jim to that other job someday?”

I am not intimating any of this is true. Just an interesting theory.

Something to think about between planning trips. You know, the only thing no one complains about since I travel by myself for the most part.

I give me a 4 out of 4, fuck everyone else!

A favorite tarot reader said Geminis are completing a cycle.

They’ve given all they can and they’re ready to reach the next level of their healing.

Also she asked the cards what could be blocking us.

I don’t agree but it’s an interesting theory.

And all the OTHER cards point to healing and prosperity on the other side.

We got Relocation. Death and Rebirth. Creativity. Ten of Pentacles. The World.

Whether that’s a new job, a new home, a new trip, even a new role at an old job … you have overstayed your welcome where you are.

Divine timing will reveal a new path.

And you are going to move forward or otherwise BE moved forward.

I’m hoping that’s to Japan.

I continue to be in awe of how interesting my life is.

I went from Walt Disney World to Tokyo Disney/DisneySea in April … to Miami and back to Orlando in May … before another Miami and Orlando trip in June.

Like, who even am I?

I mean, good thing I have performance reviews to remind me that, in a nutshell, at least I didn’t do my job worse last year.

I literally got diarrhea during the call yesterday. He kept asking if I had anything to say and I kept saying no.

Don’t get me wrong, I defended myself. But that didn’t change my scores.

And, like every year, I hang up and tell myself to remember this moment next time you have a great idea.

I really do want to process some of this stuff. I didn’t reject it. I do think it comes from someone who is very good at business.

But then I hear things like Spencer Pratt is running a great campaign — and I’m like well he is an awful human — and I somehow have to feel like the bad guy for not considering the guy’s brilliance, I just gotta shake my head.

I see a guy who abused his sister, isolated his wife from her family like a true narcissist does, leaked compromising photos of an underage actress, and literally did evil things on camera for sport. So no I don’t think we should keep putting reality villains into the spotlight and public offices.

Which wasn’t the point, the point was go look at his campaign. What any of this has to do with anything is beyond me. If it’s to say I’m all libbed up and I only surround myself with libby libs, OK. At least I know I won’t get raped in a room with any of them.

I mean sure I could do a better job listening to conservative voices. If there are any that aren’t getting drowned out by maga twits.

But I felt dumb explaining that I actually do pay to read a guy who annoys me to no end sometimes with his support of, say, Spencer Pratt and other people I wouldn’t wipe my ass with because he’s got a unique view of the stock market.

The TL;DR of all this is I’m supposedly more open minded and easy going than I was a year ago.

He made me into some villain at the review he gave me right before Mom died.

I don’t even remember the review because I was so irritated I had to be told who I am when my mom was literally dying five feet away from me.

I do remember being told I had an attitude problem about one of the products we launched.

Yeah well because I now write that product and I fucking hate it because the only person who gives me any help is my similarly overstretched staff member. And not the people whose names are on it.

I got that too. That I do too much “writing just to write.” Like well I have to be on call to write this trading product, which never trades, so I have to figure out how to deliver some sort of value to buyers. And I’m not even claiming to do a good job. I just do what I can after useless meeting with people with zero ideas.

I’ve only lost my attitude about it because I realized my paycheck can take me to Tokyo.

But yeah, improved attitude. Go, me.

I have HR ready to kill me over not turning in one review and not fixing up three others that she sent back.

But what you fuckers do not realize is I wait for my review.

I wait to see all those “meets expectations” I get.

Then I come up with new goals for my team to see how I can maybe get a damn 4 instead of a 2.75 on attitude or customer service.

You know, the thing I do all day, like for that publication I have always hated because the best I can get out of the actual experts is either an AI-generated table or a sarcastic quip.

I went on a limb and said people do the same job for 20 years without a career path. I used the phrase “up or out” and got quite a reaction.

But that’s the thing. I quit caring about moving up. I see no path so I decided to be happy with doing the same things, though a girl could use some inspiration. And some help, as how does one tackle new things when she’s writing research reports based on AI-generated tables and sarcastic quips?

Alas, maybe my attitude is better, as after I got to go poo-poo, I finished my work (not the reviews) and didn’t think about it again.

Until now, where I can see that if I, say, make it my staffer’s goals to teach me everything they know on topics I don’t, then I get smarter/better and in a way that will benefit me for life.

Everyone inspires me. And maybe this one inspires me in the best way — he makes me want to better myself so I can take what I need, improve what I want, and reject the rest.

And fuck Spencer Pratt and tRump and anyone who has to fucking remind me that they exist.

I don’t know why I still watch “Mama June.”

They jumped the fucking shark with the latest season finale. I wish I’d had the sense to stop watching sooner.

Anyway, June is always saying “Trina Wena Bena” rather than the name Trina when referring to Jessica’s mother-in-law.

Drives me fucking nuts.

I was just over here stewing over having to do performance reviews. (I’m basically two seconds away from being thrown into an alligator pit over my ability to ignore reminders.)

Our HR person’s name rhymes with Trina.

And I cracked myself up calling her (not-Trina) Wena Bena.

I decided I was done with her when I asked about adjusting one employee’s pay a couple times. Then I asked again and she was like oh, what’s that process? As if I hadn’t already asked three times about how do I get that through the money people.

So I did promise to get Wena Bena the reviews Friday. (Today.)

I never said what time.

11:59 p.m. is looking likely. And that’s only because I actually want to wake up tomorrow and get out of the house.

Wena Bena.

I get you, Mama June.