April 9, 2013

I’m writing this on the girl I nanny for’s computer, drinking Earl Grey out of her mother’s “MORE MEDICATION PLEASE” mug, and thinking about why I can’t get to sleep at night. (Let’s forget about the fact that I’m drinking a heavily caffeinated beverage at 9pm. Derp derp…)

The other day Sony Romantic Electrowave came up on my shuffle. It’s one of my favorite winter and spring songs because it reminds me of the beach, and makes me feel really warm inside my bones when it’s freezing outside. (I wrote a blog post about it almost a year ago, actually.) Anyway, the lyrics are a little jumbled, but it’s gorgeous.

As I was drifting off to sleep, I thought about who I’d want to sing this song to me. No need to clear the static….. The lanky so&so who keeps her hair long because that’s how I like it; sometimes she wears her boxers to sleep at night when her underpants bunch up otherwise and leave her lady business on public display. I’ve drawn up her wardrobe. She likes to sing Joni Mitchell, but doesn’t sing LIKE Joni Mitchell. Sometimes she breathes right in my face and it doesn’t even smell. Strawberry blonde tresses that take forever to dry after showering, she combs them out meticulously before deciding whether or not she wants to blow-dry. Sometimes she brings me coffee in bed, sometimes I bring her coffee in bed, sometimes we turn on jazz radio in the afternoons when we have nothing to do; and the spring breeze keeps us company while we read. She clacks her gum and it’s cute, my fingers rap away at the keyboard pretending I have something to say. (She looks at me and it’s like our little secret.) We’re like Miles and Trane because can you imagine Kind of Blue without either of those fuckers? Probably not.

…I will be there.


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