time is tumbling towards us

Disquiet nights and thoughtless turbulence -
disturbulence -
- it leaves me blinking into the grainy darkness.
There are three boys in my bed (twelve legs between us).
If I am careful, no one will be the wiser.
It's 3AM and "trying" to sleep is a perfect example of futility.

Yesterday afternoon I hit a wall. Expecting to stumble heavy and dormant into sleep ends with nothing but disappointment . Energy reserves caked with torpor invite only vague disinterest in going the "extra mile."

I need my clock to reset.

-- One final job interview. Did you know these things take three days? THREE DAYS.
That's three days of being "on." Being "charming." Being "engaged." Being attentive, and thoughtful, interested
(and interesting).

But how can I be interested (and interesting) when all I want in the world is to know what in the world I want?

___________________

We are so glad to have you. 
He reaches for my hand. 
Welcome back. 

Acceptance Speech

ver·sa·tile adjective \ˈvər-sə-təl, especially British -ˌtī(-ə)l\
     1 :   changing or fluctuating readily : variable
     2 :   embracing a variety of subjects, fields, or skills; also : turning with ease from one thing to another
     3 a (1) : capable of turning forward or backward : reversible (2) : capable of moving laterally and up and down
        b of an anther : having the filaments attached at or near the middle so as to swing freely
     4 :   having many uses or applications

Maija of The Sequined World, along with  my doppleganger namesake Loulou of Sugarstorm, have both graciously named me for the Versatile Blogger Award. Now, I'm new to this game and don't really know what awards are for other than spreading love. So, it's in that vein I play along.

As I have mentioned time and again, it is always (always) nice to know that someone, no matter how far, connects with what I might write. I am small and minimally consequential on most days; However, I would be lying if I said there wasn't some validation in blogging to you - essential strangers. But you know that.

The acceptance of the versatile blogger award comes with stipulations (like any quality chain letter). Here they are:

1. Thank the blogger who nominated you with a link back to their site.
2. List 7 interesting things about yourself.
3. Link to 15 (or 7, or whatever) blogs that you would like to nominate for the award yourself.

About me?

1. You can find everything you need to know right here. It's all true. Out of chronology, maybe, but still burning in a layover of blank space, waiting to be snuffed out in words.
2. I am not sure I'll ever love anyone like I love my dog. His name is Newton. Like Sir Isaac fruit and cake.
3. I am both liberated and lonely.
4. I am envious of adult children who have healthy relationships with their parents. I often wonder how much is my own fault.
5. I love to cook, yet I just ate jelly beans for dinner.
6. I believe the best sex of my life will happen in my 30s.
7. They way I feel the morning after only three glasses of wine can only mean that I damaged my liver beyond repair while I was in college. 

And now, for the bloggers. The girls above stole a couple of my very favorites already, but there are many I like to follow. I'm going to limit my list to three for now.

S. at .As Far As The Eye Can See. for her script of love and heartbreak that speaks to me even when I'm not sure how.
Keith at Musings of an Unapologetic Dreamer for his little insights into the every day.
Sara at Raging euphemisms because I'm addicted to her story.

Cheers.
xx
Lulu

Welcome back?

Hello, Midwest.
And you are snowing.
Again.

Last week was unintentionally unplugged. No internet. No laptop. No work. And shitty cell reception somewhere between San Antonio and the bay.

I may not know where home is, but I will always feel grounded by a warm breeze, the scent of a saddle shop, apple moonshine and two-stepping down the sidewalk.

I miss Texas. 
I don't belong here.

I am.

It's just me.

I am my mother's daughter.
     Though if you asked her, she'd deny it.
My step dad laughs when he says, "At least she's not milk toast."
And my boyfriend nods and replies, "Right."

It's just that, in this particular venue, it's as if I am sheltered from myself and all of the things I used to know. Pieces of me have inadvertently been left behind as my life has shifted shape between each new place.

I am adaptable.
     Though homesickness is a novel lament here.
I wasn't meant to live with six months of cold like this.
"I'll keep you warm," he says.

It's time to get back to the basics. Perhaps the Midwest isn't stifling. I've just been a little lost because the circumstances which led me here are the kind that make people crinkle their brow and apologize for lack of anything else to say.

Welcome to my newest home.

xx
Lulu