it wouldn't be november without a blood-splattered bathroom. considering my costume this year was significantly less bloody (really you can't get more bloody than carrie-post-pig) i would have expected to make it through halloween without too much mess this time. but what am i if not a mess?
for as much as i love halloween and pumpkins and cheesy scary movies, i feel a bit like bride-of-frankenstein-cinderella after the ball. my dress needs dry cleaning, my ripped hose are in the trash, and my jack-o-lanterns are nothing more than shriveled squash.
with 20-20 hindsight, there seems to be a pattern here. the melting summer days that run headlong into the excitement of crisp october nights. the highest sugar rush of costumes and bloody fun and cavorting. but as every babysitter knows, the caffeine and chocolate leaves a nasty crash. i try not to eat real sugar. sadly, i seem to be suffering the affects all the same.
winter is coming for me.
i can see summer just over my shoulder. the sunshine, the promise. but the days are noticeably shorter, the cold running through my veins.
summer is so easily a time to bake my brain into oblivion. lulled by beautiful days and the slightly slower city vibe. the afternoons run long, petering into delightfully cooler twilights. evening breezes seduce you into vampyric play long into the night.
but the frost burns my thoughts into action, racing in circles of could've, should'ves, as if mental laps would warm my blood stream.
i wrap up in layer upon layer, put my head down and burrow through the tourists, ping-ponging my way to each heated destination. but i can't seem to insulate my emotions.
i do have a plan this year: stay busy. audition audition audition. this, of course, could back fire spectacularly.
part 2 of said plan, then: let's just not think too much about the future for a little while, miss christina.
a couple months of ignoring the what-the-hell-am-i-doings won't kill you.