Glitter on the Ceiling
Finally, February 1st! January has sincerely felt like 5 months rolled into one. It always does. I am currently at my parents’ house crouched down on their new carpet in the living room, listening to “Gimme the Loot” by Notorious BIG. The song is a whole damn mood. As I sit crouched down slouching over the coffee table at an angle that has my left foot falling asleep, I can feel my stomach plopping out of my high wasted jeans- pronouncing itself as it peaks beneath my white cropped sweater. I guess that is what home feels like though, your belly hanging out of your jeans with no shame. The subtle awareness that you have no one to impress. It’s refreshing.
Update- I had to relocate to the couch because of my foot feeling like pins and needles. I decided to share a little bit of my lazy Saturday. Nothing spectacular has happened, but it has been a good day. I went and had brunch with my roommates. I went HARD on a breakfast burrito and inhaled my coffee. I have a problem with guzzling good coffee and not taking enough time to enjoy it the way it deserves. Coffee is my vice. As is wine, trashy reality tv, and saying fuck under my breath 15 times a day. All the good things, ya know? Today has been extremely windy. I love to listen to it brush its way against my window and to watch swirls of leaves and debris be lifted off the ground. I did try to briefly step outside with lip-gloss on and the wind swept my hair against my glossy lips which left me sputtering and spitting the hair out of my mouth. Anyone who has ever felt the sensation of hair getting in their lip-gloss can attest to the discomfort. As I sit in my parents living room, I can hear the chimes singing with the gusts of wind. I always loved this old house for the way it interacts with nature. My parents’ house was built in 1913. So, it’s an old home with lots of character and ghosts. I’m kidding about the ghosts, although at one point the house was owned by a funeral chapel. And my dad swears that only one dead body stayed here. I am 100% not kidding about that. I want to enter my family into one of those cringey paranormal TV shows, like Ghost Hunters on A&E Network, where we admit that we have never actually seen any ghosts, but we would ham it up for the cameras. I would have such a good scared face for television. Anyways- FUN AND CHARACTER FILLED HOME RIGHT? I digress. The house is old, and the sounds it makes are actually quite lovely. I adore the sound of rain on the tin roof, especially when I am in my childhood bedroom. It sounds so clear and fresh from my bed. I always felt lucky to fall asleep to the sound of rain drizzling on the tin. The windows by my parent’s front porch always pick up the sound of wind and chimes, which are especially relaxing when the rest of the house is silent. The floors creak when you lean too far into specific boards and when I walk on the old hard wood it feels like I am playing a song that I have listened to my whole life. We moved into the home when I was 2 years old. The broom closet in the kitchen holds marks of my brother and I’s height as we grew up. On the ceiling in my dining room is a blotch of red sparkles, where I once squeezed a bottle of glitter with its cap on tightly until it exploded upwards leaving dark red shimmer by our chandelier. My family left the little glitter spot on our ceiling as a constant reminder of my mischief. They never painted over it because it added to the abundance of character in our old house. I notice little details in the house, the longer I have gone without living in it. As I sit in my parents home it makes me want to walk around and take inventory of all of the nicks and marks.
Libby Anne Groseclose