I just spilt earl grey tea all over my lush, white, immaculately clean bedroom comforter. I take pride in cleanliness, and knowing that I always have my "clean" bed as salvation at the end of the day. So fuck this, I am currently scrambling the internet for "kosher" cleaning tips that effectively get the job done, because I am not good with stains. Stains remain on everything a stain ever appeared on, serious.
But alas, my mama, with whom I had my potentially number 1 most awkward moment with less than 8 hours ago emerged through the doors of our cozy, artsy home to save my comforter, while simultaneously saving my life. I love her. And I felt a trickle of this mornings awkwardness subside while she rushed into my tiny bedroom with sopping wet paper towels. We will have this rift completely deconstructed in about an hour. We are good to one another. We have an infinite understanding of one another's needs. We have solidarity.
I slept from 9am to 3pm today. Yes. I am not saying this to be all nonconformist and cool. I am saying this because I actually have the freedom, to sleep these strange hours and live a completely self dictated lifestyle not lead by standard universal habits. (okay, friends and girlfriends and love all got tangled up into this equation too) but. I really need to start sleeping like a normal human again. Any suggestions. Do I need an intervention?
I had the best day yesterday. My lunch was totally ace. Caved and spent 7 bones on a orange/grapefruit concoction a la dragon and questioned my decision making process for an hour. Day dreamed about two of my strongest loves in cuisine. Salt and pepper. They really do warrant a completely solo post, but, come on. This summer I purchased my most expensive salt and pepper yet, a exotic sea salt blend that goes on absolutely everything I make, even dessert. And a more generic pepper but it still makes my heart hyper every time I taste it. It it so fucking good, and also makes an appearance on everything I cook, always and forever. Uh, ok, rambling. I also went jean shopping a la Connect 4 and no dice. I mean, I really didn't want to drop 100 bones on skin tight cheap mondays, but I always cave. We also frequented Vintage Glory, (go people, its grand). We were total assholes and just tried everything on, especially hats. My lady pal Sierra purchased the sexiest fur or fake fur hat, not sure. She looked so splendid I could have photographed her for days and days.
We took cell phone photos. We had red bicyclette wine. (orgasmic, please try it). We had oka cheese and hummous and crackers. Mint yerba mate, coconut cream lip chap, elk jerky (not mine), and various teas were also sampled and shared. We watched the Reader, smoked miscellaneous cigarettes, marveled at the changing seasons, the changing smells, needs, air, colors, light, relationships, textures. I felt the warm breaths of my favorite people all hitting my face in unison, in a small, cheery sunroom. I felt the cold skin of goosebumped arms with hairs standing straighter than ever. We talked about love and the future. I felt a tremendous sigh of relieve. I felt a bit sad for no identifiable reason. Yet, completely at ease. I wanted to stay there forever.
I held the hand of someone special, under a red velvet blanket. She fell asleep.
I thought about how life really does get away, move to fast, slips right between your fingers. Tonight was the last party night for a few of my girlfriends, which subsequently means me too. Summer is officially over. We partied harder than ever before, I will never forget.
http://www.redbicyclette.com/
Ta.
-L
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