RUSSH and Moleskins

This morning I lunged out of bed, hair in a stale top bun, moleskins, one new and luscious, the other old and disheveled, scattered on the ground below me. My room has taken on a sort of borderline messy state this last week. Its like my bookshelf (If only I owned one), decided to explode right beside my bed. Book after book, some unread, some not, have formed this pretentious pile as to trap me in my warm, sleepy bed, as if that were a bad thing. The thing about cleaning for me though, is that I am so good at it. That mess could be remedied in 5 minutes, easy as pie, no fuss. I have a very sterile, minimalist perspective on things and interiors, so that obviously helps a lot. But, I awoke, and  carefully stepped, squatted, and perhaps even jumped over said pile and poured myself a skyscraper of a glass of pomegranate ice tea. My thoughts immediately drifted to yesterday, which I have concluded was one of my favorite days of said september. Let moi set le scene. I was awoken, from an especially delightful slumber, by copious buzzes from my tele which I now practically spoon with at night. A lunch offer was presented, which was then improvised and turned into a road trip of sorts to go visit my girl and C at university. M biked down to me, and we then biked in unison to retrieve the Focus, oh the Focus. Fruit and pies and fish and other glorious food was brought to the girls and we ventured off to Kings Park to indulge in a nearly 4 hour picnic. The colors, my gad, of the surrounding area were enough to give you a mind orgasam, and the air, so crisp and invigorating, sent subtle chills down my arms and consequently my back, rising my obnoxious arm hairs to their highest stance. We walked and sat and lay'd and rolled and did absolutely nothing to absolutely everything. It was so nice. I shot just about 2 rolls of film, sans digital, so I am nearly fainting with the longing of wanting to get those into tangible form. M and I then left, all giddy from the winds, and drove to Starfucks to get my mama who insisted we go to Boon Burger. So, alas the picnic continued for M and I, as we both hesitantly ordered more food, but It's Boon, so to have passed that up would have been a huge no no. At one point I remember eating my Sriracha polluted pumpkin soup and thinking I am not eating for another week, but I am eating salmon right this second, oh Lisa. To exhaust your already potentially tired brain more, we continued our day from there, yes we did. We then cruised down to Chaps to buy 40 bones worth of Moleskins and my vice, my drug, my darling, RUSSH mag. What a way to end a day. I am glad I can go to a bookstore with M and just escape, not having an inkling of need to entertain him. We both just read and read, and read and read. No one cares about the silence, the silence cares for us. 

Off to read RUSSH and do dishes. 

Ta.

-L