rude awakening

this morning i was woken up by a pair of plastic legs falling on my head. they belong to the wangly, dangly, glow-in-the-dark, plastic skeleton that hangs from a string on the dragonfly sconce above the bed. it seems that gravity had got the best of it and with a plop, the legs dropped and ricocheted off the headboard. from there they slid and skid and plopped atop my head. i had been laying there in that cool morning haze where you know you need to get up and shower otherwise you may sleep the day away. and i knew i had to get up and shower soon as the construction crew would arrive shortly and they are still working in the bathroom next door.

i'm not sure what startled me more, the pop of the plastic hitting the headboard or the dangly drop of bony feet on my head. either way, i startled awake to begin my day. the sound the legs made as they dropped reminded me of an alarm clock. many years before the mister, i was involved with a fella who professed a fondness for marvin the martian (among other things). not long after we started dating i gifted him with a marvin alarm clock for his birthday. it was shaped like his spaceship and when it was time to alarm, a small modeled marvin would shoot out of the top and bellow:

"wake up Earthling, we havn't got all light year!"

now, this voice was loud and echoey and loud and wouldn't shut up until you whacked him back into his spaceship. as loud and annoying as marvin was, his voice isn't what woke you up, it was the sound the plastic mechanisms made to shoot his little body out of the top of the ship. that clickity-clackity pop of a clack would startle the sanity right out of you. for a long, long time, we continued to set the alarm and wake-up with this insanity and after a while, our bodies developed a rhythm of sorts and we could wake-up seconds before the startling clack. our eyes would open and marvin would clackity clack up out of the ship and holler his good morning. with a satisfied smirk, one of us would then wallop him back into the ship and thus our day would begin.

the week in review: mar 23-29

the week was spent in the busy dizzy throes of sick and ick and funk and junk. let's hope this week is better.

words and pictures: cozy

even in the middle of this funk, i am loving the weather change here. people who are not from l.a. refuse to believe we have seasons, but we do. they may not be as showy and colorful as most but they come when most needed to carry us through until the next change. spring in los angeles can be hot, very hot. it can be gray and moody. it can be crisp and clear. it can be windy as all get out. spring days in los angeles are funky and odd and can feel like any other funky and odd day here in lalaland. it's the mornings that are magical.

this morning i was too comfortable, too cozy to get up and out of bed. it wasn't the funk that kept me in my cocoon or the vintage soft caress of the floral bedding that wrapped me up in sixties love. it wasn't exactly the amber sunlight that peeked through the ugly cracks in the hideous plastic shade pulled down over the window.* it was a combination of all these things that rested a cozy crown upon my head as my toes searched for a new patch of cool to tickle under the covers. this is the best kind of cozy. the kind where the day feels like vintage paper flowers and fresh brewed lavender tea. where the light is just so and whispers of spring. it's the kind where your eyes flutter shut for a moment or two while you revisit that dream full of southern bohemian spirit. it's the kind of cozy where no matter where you stretch your limbs under the covers you are at once slightly chilled and cozy, warm all at the same time. it's the kind of cozy where the birds and their twittering, their chittering and chattering drown out all traffic, even the muffferless cars. it's the kind of cozy that you gather up about you, that you knit into the most lovely of memories and carry with you for the rest of the day.

it's my kind of cozy and i hope it stays.

*we really need to replace that shade!

check out more posts about cozy over at meet me at mikes!

like clockwork

i've been in the funkiest of funks lately. my head is cloudy, foggy and i feel sad, sad, sad. i want to pick up and start over somewhere where no one knows me and i can be the odd quiet lady up on the hill who never comes outside and just may very well be a witch. i ache. i ache for the me i am not, for the me i could be if i just got my act together, for the me that i want to be. i ache. school is tough, this session around. the workload is overwhelming and with the funk, it feels heavier and almost impossible. the construction all around me doesn't help. my health doesn't help. the mister's own funk, doesn't help. the cloudy, foggy mess that is my brain simply doesn't help. i am aware that life isn't all doom and gloom. i am aware that i am quite lucky and i think that makes it worse. who am i to feel such a funk? i've got a good thing going here. i am loved by my mister and my nifty, lovely friends and i am lucky. i am, i know this yet, like clockwork, i feel the funk. it's mania. it's wretched. it's confusing as all get out.

for a few weeks now it has been difficult waking in the morning. it has been difficult sleeping through the night. the bad brain has been pretty active and things simply slip, slip, slip away. the ups and downs make me dizzy and crazy-tired all at the same time. i feel out of control and incapable and slightly crazy to be feeling any of this in the first place and then the guilt shoulders its way in. i feel up, i feel down, i feel good, i feel wretched. i want to disappear, i want to pass out flowers on the street. it's mania. it's wretched. it's confusing as all get out.

i've caught a cold that has morphed into something else and it has thieved away my newly recovered sense of smell. i am mourning this loss like there's no tomorrow and i feel stupid for it. yet, at the same time, this loss keeps me disconnected from the world. there is a foggy, silence of scent all about me that makes me feel flat and two dimensional and unreal and disconnected. the tears, the sobs, the silent sadness. the smiles, the guffaws, the small bursts of inspiration. it's mania. it's wretched. it's confusing as all get out. and then i see the calendar, i see what day today is and i get it. i hate it, that it effects me like this, but i get it.

i think this year is so difficult because of last year. last year was really trying and sad for me. this year hasn't been a hardship at all but the memories of last year threaten to steal it all away. today is my mother's birthday. she has been gone for ten years and still, i am sad. still, i miss her so i have to remind myself to breathe. today is her birthday and she isn't here. today is her birthday and my grandmother isn't here. today is here birthday and i have nothing left of her to carry me through, not even the hope of a daughter i could tell her stories to. it's mania. it's wretched. it's confusing as all get out. i miss my mother, i mourn my grandmother and i ache for a daughter i will never have. i think then, that it is okay to feel this way. it will pass. it's mania. it's wretched. it's confusing as all get out, but it will pass.

spontaneity

don't you love it when you do something odd in the moment and it works? i received a lovely surprise package from a lovely lady and she tied it all up with an assortment of orange yarn. i didn't want the yarn to disappear in the mess that is the casa so i jetted to the living room to wander through the chest of drawers to see what i could find. this is what i found. isn't she grand?

the week in nreview: mar 16-21

spent most of the week at home noodling around and reading for class, with a weekend drive up to visit family thrown in. what i didn't do was write, write, write. this week? i have to write, write, write. and now mr. a-go-go and i both have colds. crikey!