Thursday, January 07, 2010

my room

Every once in awhile, I stop and take a look at my surroundings and the image of that moment is a perfect summation of my life at that point—regardless of whether or not I know what that summation might imply. I first thought to notice these passing moments after seeing Demetri Martin perform at the Moore Theatre. He recalled a time when he was frantically tearing through his apartment and suddenly let’s out, “where the fuck is my tambourine?!” The above photo illustrates my version of one of these priceless moments.
- a red eye mask and peach, satin robe hung on rogue nails left in place by a previous tenant. (the nails, not the eye mask and robe)
- Catholic art and paraphernalia on the facing wall.
- current reading material and my alarm clock on my unmade bed.
- cotton candy pink wig hanging on the lamp on my nightstand.
I am unsure as to what exactly this signifies about my current situation. I just know that it does and that those assumptions are best left up to a higher power—you! All I am fit to offer is a cursory explanation of the aforementioned items.
- eye mask: I am often prone to bouts of insomnia. What I notice most during these periods is that my eyes simply refuse to remain shut and I am often caught spending quality sleep hours staring at the ceiling. Having a shroud over my eyes removes this urge and, ultimately, helps me fall asleep in a timelier manner. (a side note, it also helps keep me from waking up when I am lodging at a hostel and people—assumption, tourists—are keeping any number of competing hours to see the city in each of their respective ways.)
- robe: I had many an instance while living in a dormitory in Denmark when the inspector would pound on the door as he was entering my unit—without any previous warning that he might be coming. The nights in this dormitory where often very wild and my state of dress at night was not always appropriate for public consumption. Having a robe nearby means I can quickly be covered regardless of my previous clothing state. This is important when you know someone spontaneous is also the holder of your keys.
- evidence of the Catholic within: no matter how far I have come from my Catholic upbringing, there is enough of it that still remains—the guilt. If not for that, that fact still remains that Mary is awesome, even if she is a virgin.
- the book: I read before the “see-no-evil” eye masks cloaks my eyes from the world around me. I helps turn my brain off and keeps me from being up all night scribbling in my journal. I mean literally just scratching random, non-cohesive hatch marks into my journal. It’s a terrible habit.
- alarm clock: I am an public radio news junky. The middle of my bed, left unmade because I do not believe in the practice of perfectly setting sheets to be mussed the very same day, happened to be the place that I received the best reception. It also functioned as a reminder that absolutely under no circumstances could I lie back down. Tired Shannon often tries to sabotage responsible, punctual Shannon. Tired Shannon must be stopped at all costs!!!
- wig on nightstand: I wish I had an elaborate story about sexy role play and spicing up “our” love life. That my partner gets all worked up when I tart up like Lady GaGa and show him my p-p-p-p-poker face. Or, perhaps, that I am having an affair so secret that I am hiding my identity from both the world and my lover alike. Not that I am currently striking out in the virtual and actual dating realms and am currently in drought season. Not that I bought it for a New Year’s Eve party, which I left before midnight to go home alone. Regardless, this year is new. I have plenty of time to the stuff previously mentioned. I had to work super early anyway. …
As previously stated, I am not sure what exactly this all implies about me, but it is something isn’t it?