I'm cooking tonight after a couple month hiatus. I always equate lack of cooking and cleaning to unhappiness. Being too tired physically and emotionally to spend the time cooking, indicates conundrum. Tonight, on my walk home, as if I did it every night, I swung into Harvest Market on Centre Street and bought food to make a little mango stir fry and came right home, cleaned the kitchen, and started cooking.

Charlie sent me a Nina Simone cd that I've been listening to while cooking/ dancing. It makes me miss him more- is that possible?

The kitchen table is littered with Madison rental magazines, boxes of tea, an antler of some unidentified animal, glad wrap, candles.

I'm amazed at how quickly and naturally this decision has settled into my heart. And it just feels right, natural, normal. Like I was born to do this. As if I've been making impulsive decisions my entire life. Everything's aligning perfectly. staying here and continuing on my current path would be the wrong decision. I've been granted much clarity. epiphanies are wonderful.

If Leopold eats another plant, I might actually kill him. wish he weren't so cute.

watch this. you'll feel better. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WedUn-_Y4-4

There are big changes in my near future, and i have no idea how to tackle them. Do I take them head on and dive in, no fear for tomorrow? Or do I go about it in my typical, calculated, practical way?

I don't want to be practical. Is that because I'm impatient? Am I being foolish? I'm being cryptic- for that, I apologize. So much to figure out.

Sodom, South Georgia:

Papa died smiling
Wide as the ring of a bell
Gone all star white
Small as a wish in a well
And Sodom, South Georgia
Woke like a tree full of bees
Buried in Christmas
Bows and a blanket of weeds

Papa died Sunday and I understood
All dead white boys say, "God is good"
White tongues hang out, "God is good"

Papa died while my
Girl Lady Edith was born
Both heads fell like
Eyes on a crack in the door
And Sodom, South Georgia
Slept on an acre of bones
Slept through Christmas
Slept like a bucket of snow

Papa died Sunday and I understood
All dead white boys say, "God is good"
White tongues hang out, "God is good"

I can't seem to break this cycle of early morning wake up... maybe it's because I don't particularly mind it. My sleep cap seems to be 7 hours... often less but definitely no more. Once I reach the 7 hour mark, my eyes open regardless of time and that's that.

There's so much for me to think about. most days it's hard to tell if I should laugh or cry. it's not a bad thing, though.

I moved the roses into my bedroom this morning. Formerly, they sat on the kitchen table in all their glory (long stem roses, by the way, are really glorious) but this morning I decided that I spend more time in my bedroom than in the kitchen. and I want to appreciate them at all times. Of course, Leo was the first to accost them- jumped up and started biting the petals. I wasn't a huge fan of that.

I wanted to say that this was the first time a boy had ever given me flowers, but that's not totally true. Valentines day, circa 2002 I was dating a very sweet punk rocker (turned sour now- ask me about his tattoo sometime) and we went out to chinese food. of course, he had no money so i paid. and he gave me a fake black plastic rose that smelled of baby powder and came from cumberland farms. somehow, this was permissible. I loved that stupid, ugly rose and kept it for years. It even had a hot glue gun bead of fake dew on it. later, he admitted two things- one, that the rose had come with a little smiling bear clinging to it that he'd ripped off because he didn't think i'd like it (how perceptive of him! oh how that made me adore him more!) and two, that he'd stolen it because he didn't have the $.99 that it cost. oh, life. needless to say, the relationship didn't last long. but what a cute thing he was.

some of january, some of february.

i know that i should clean my house, but it's such a daunting task.

as per usual, we're all in bed- me resting at the head, feeling the cold air leaking through the windows (that should have been weather proofed if only i could bear the thought of plastic covering my windows), leopold lying at the foot of the bed, dark, creamy eyes fixed on me in a sleepy, love-filled gaze, bippy sleeping to my right, curled into a soft, heaving ball.

we've got big decisions to make, the three of us do. big life decisions. my cats are fortunate to have no responsibility, no duty. the weight of their decisions never bears heavy on their frail little shoulders. life is a simple formula of sleeping, eating, bathing.

people are pouring out of the spanish pentecostal church across the street. i like to imagine where people are going, who they go home to. what they pray about. what makes them laugh and what makes them cry.

so i'm bare boned and crazy for you when you come crash into me, baby.

wait, really? a dozen red roses, delivered to work?

this doesn't happen in the life of elissa bristow. at least historically speaking. but, i'll gladly accept.

It's amusing that Ben comes to me with his biggest concerns. For example, he purchased Bud Light Lime and, as chance would have it, ended up loving it. Now he's worried that it's a chick drink because it's light, airy, and full of fruity flavor. I'm calming his fears. A hint of lime seems fair game to me. Smirnoff ice? not so universal.

life keeps throwing things at me. some i'm dodging, some i'm taking right in the chest. isn't that life for you? soph reminds me that some of the most beautiful art comes from the most anguished times- i'm keeping that in mind, counting my blessings, plan to keep on keeping on.

i need to conquer my hatred of sleep. lately, a new dislike has been creeping in. i've been feeling, in recent weeks, that eating is an unnecessary expense of time, money, and effort. instead of eating for any sort of pleasure i do it out of pure necessity.

the eating battle is more likely to be won than the sleeping battle. i don't think i'll ever find sleeping to be a quality expenditure of my time.

---
I have a hoe
and I take it everywhere I go
cause I'm planting seeds
so I reaps what I sow -- ya know
oh on & on & on & on
my cipher keeps movin' like a rollin' stone
I can't control the soul flowin' in me
ooh wee

In the divine words of Erykah Badu...

who gave you permission to rearrange me
certainly not me
who told you that it was alright to love me
certainly not me
I was not looking for no love affair
and now you wanna fix me
I was not looking for no love affair
and now you want to mold me
was not looking for no love affair
now you wanna kiss me
was not looking for no love affair
and now you wanna control me
hold me
You're really trying to get creative with me love
and that's alright, but
you tried to get a little tricky turned my back
and then you slipped me a mickey.

the world is mine
when I wake up
I don't need nobody telling me the time

the cats are restless.

i spent the weekend in vermont- a necessary retreat from the constant melee of home-city. it makes my feline companions restless, however.

leopold is lying like a chicken on the end of my bed, legs tucked completely under him. his face is content and squished, lips curled into a cat smile, eyes squinted into slits, surveying the room. leopold has a face of grandeur- thick, black mane like a lion, whiskers for days, puffed white chest. the very ventricles of my heart swell with pride when i think of his feather-soft fur or handsome, black nose.

bippy is the cutest thing you'll ever see- dainty and sweet, petite with an under bite and large, lamp-like eyes. we went to the vet today for another alleged UTI. What a trooper my cat is- poor baby.

for a change of pace, i won't list the things i find stressful; rather the things i find beautiful

tired sighs, quiet breaths, heavy covers, dried flowers, starlight, the purr of motors, the look of content, pink noses, sandpaper tongues, dark skies, dreary nights.