My time in DC has flown by. As much as I wish to hold onto the days, I cannot do it. Actually, honestly, it's not the days I want to hold on to, but the evenings, the blue hour of night. Work has been incredibly busy for the past week and a half. I haven't exactly minded as the time at my desk has gone swiftly and flown into the evenings. But my nights are pretty busy too. Such is life when you live with 7 other girls in a merry blue house. I'm occupied with things like hearing stories about running into hundreds of Santa Claus's in a Santa pub crawl in New York City, or looking at wedding rings for friends who are about to get engaged, or watching ridiculous shows like "Keeping up with the Kardashains." Guilty side note: I kind of like that show. Stupid. Yes. But it's about family! Loving each other, yelling at each other, stealing your daughter's waffle iron....
Every now and then, I have to escape to my bed. With earplugs. I have this thing in me where I don't want to miss a good time. Or the deets of the date. Or the funny thing that your boss said that day. So, even in my bedroom, because the walls of our blue house are thinner than paper (this is no lie,) I have to actually put in earplugs in order to have some quiet time. In Henry VIII, Shakespeare wrote, “I shall fall like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.” This is me -- falling with exuberance into my bed, glad the day is done but sorry to see it go, loving my pillows. Loving this time.
And then, I lay. In my bed. Lots of colors around me. Mainly yellows.
Ok, something good to know in life - your bed is really important. Treat that baby with love and she will love you back. Get yourself a good mattress, dress it up with some pretty quilts, I'm pretty sure a down comforter is a definite essential, and hunker down in the glory of at least 500 thread-count sheets. I believe that journals and beds have the same quality -- they have to look inviting and nice and make you want to get in them (beds) or open them (journals) in order to rest well or write enthusiastically.
My dear bed has been through the ringer. I think it appreciates my loving it no matter what condition it may or may not be in, and therefore, it really treats me well.
My bed was run over by a hysterical Asian woman in her Ford Focus. No lie.
Some friends of mine were helping me move my bed into my house back in early February. We didn't exactly tie the mattress down as well as we should have on the pick-up truck, but whatevs. Crossing the 66 West bridge from the District heading into Virginia, the wind picked up a tad and literally lifted my mattress off the truck, hurtling it through the air to land smack dab in the middle of the highway. Uhhh, bad. I cussed the same word 5 times in a row. Within .2 seconds, this crazy Asian lady plowed into it. Rammed her damn car right on top of it. Dragged it under her for a good 30 feet. Brakes failing, feathers flying -- that sort of thing. Granted, if I saw a mattress flying through the air and land right in front of my moving vehicle, I'd probably flip stars a bit too. But OMG. This lady tried to get us all killed as we dodged oncoming cars for the next 45 minutes and tried to get her to pull over to the shoulder from the flipping CENTER LANE! Ummm hello, it's not exactly wise to be sitting in the middle of 66 with cars going 50mph flying by. She didn't quite understand that part, so we had to wait for the cop to come to coax her to the shoulder. Turns out, I knew the cop's niece! We sang together in Black Voices at UVa. Yes, I was in a gospel choir called Black Voices.
Mind you, my mattress is still stuck, literally wedged, underneath crazy lady's Ford. We had to wait another hour (it was 44 degrees outside) for the tow truck to come and lift her car up so that we could pull out the mattress. Miles and Jim, my valiant friends with me, were certain that I'd want to throw it away. Springs exposed, black tire marks all over it, extreme dents in numerous places.....heck no, we weren't going to trash it! That bad boy was coming home with me. What else was I going to sleep on? Masking tape and several squirts of extra-strength Fabreeze later, I slept that very night on my new bed. Nevermind the strong smell of gasoline and burned rubber.
I have now slept for 10 months on that gem -- sweet dreams and beautiful nightmares included.
Here are a few pictures:
Oh yes, JOY. Lots and lots. Tis the season! I think it's important to get some quiet time, especially in the hustle and bustle of December. Go get in bed! Pop open your journal or a great book (I recently have read Bel Canto, The Guernsey Literary and Sweet Potato Peel Pie Society, and am currently on The Help -- all such great reads,) put on some classical tunes, pray, meditate, think, breathe. Be in the quiet.