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.

Foreshadowing of my strange day came in the form of my disgruntled, malodorous seat partner on the bus this morning. The most peculiar people always get on the bus and undoubtedly start ambling towards me and my open seat, despite a bus filled with vacancies- it's my lot in life.

at the store today, a woman asked me where the "adorable puppies from the front window" were kept and i guided her towards our overabundant displays of plush. she said to me, "let me tell you a secret" and pulled me uncomfortably close. she was older, salt and pepper hair pushed up and over a winter headband and big, goofy glasses that made her eyes wide and owl-like.

"the way you display your stuffed animals encourages people to rummage. And when people rummage, things get dirty. And people sneeze on them, and they get covered in germs, and the visual alone is completely troubling to me and goes against all of my standards." (all along I'm nodding and smiling in muted agreement) "I wanted to buy a brand new, clean, cute puppy for a new baby and I can't do that in your store. Now... do with that information what you will." I smiled, thanked her, and threw the information immediately away in my brain. Or, deposited it here. It's a pretty funny story.

----

I have a habit of growing impatient in the last 15 minutes of work and delving into a project that's way too ambitious for the time frame.. usually keeping me over 15 to 20 minutes. Tonight, I decided to tackle the Ty Girls. Ty Girls are once slutty turned pseudo-sweet dolls brought to you by Ty, the makers of Beanie Babies. It's common to find them on the shelf, their once smoothed back tresses ripped out of pony tails and tied into all kinds of knots. Tonight I decided to throw a little spa party for the Ty girls and fix up all their hair.

I was happily finger brushing their pink, purple, orange, and yellow hair back into tiny pony tails when I was awkwardly interrupted by a very large lady, approximately mid twenties to mid thirties, who exclaimed to me her love for dolls. To give you the appropriate mental picture.. I was sitting on the floor amidst a sea of slutty dolls with wild hair when this giant lady with a huge winter hat stood dauntingly above me. "I never found a doll that looked like me except this one" she said, as she grabbed Belle (from Beauty and the Beast) off the shelf, "because she has brown hair and green eyes."
me: "oh, nice, i have brown hair and green eyes too.."

she didn't stop there. we discussed dolls at FAO Schwarz that you have to adopt, tiny stuffed horses, a pheonix and a unicorn, the pregnant raccoon that had taken up residence in her house, and how she wanted a baby but had no man to make one with. I can't make this stuff up.

Leopold, the ever helpful, loves to lie in front of the sewing machine while i'm trying to sew. We are seen together, in the second photo, having a serious discussion the matter of him attacking my scissors while i'm using them.

I made a cute, albeit unfinished, bunny... she's looking for appendages.

and speaking of appendages... i can't really explain the hand. my genius comes in strange forms and overpowering waves, and i merely obey it.

you go girl.

I found this letter on the streets of roxbury about 4 years ago. spiral bound notepaper, handwritten, pure amazingness.

I've got to say, I know exactly where she's coming from. it's like she and i live parallel lives.

know that i was keeping it authentic with spelling mistakes, run-on sentences, and all.
-------

kandon,

what's good with you? me i'm chillen.
well i'm sorry 4 everything i ever did wrong i mean i apologize i try my best to be the best clown as chick i said i was but it's hard when i can't see you and you don't call me if you really wanted to someone to talk to. Baby I'v been here all along same place i was at when you was calling i'm not going no where and when i get some money when i get it i'll give you have of what i got you know that it's just that my last check was shit since i quit that job and i had to give that to my mother 4 the phone bill and i got lots of more money to pay her 4 all them collect calls i accepted. and i understand were you coming from about the fight we have and no i don't blame it all on you i admitt some of it was my fault but this relationship aint ganna go any where if we don't forgive and forget and trust me I did both.

No everything that I want I don't get from you cuzz if I didn't you wouldn't have been where you at anyways so come again "playa" and anserw my question who's Shanice cuzz in one of my letter you couldn't decide who you wanted to write me or her and I never pick u up and put you don't don't ever disrespect me like that again I wouldn't never do that to my baby I got to much love 4 you when you go to court again? Oh yeah I heard about that nigga from Lucerive is there just keep your head up and stay out of trouble you only got a week or 2 until court and I hope you'll be a free man by then. :)