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Should I stay or should I go?  This question has me off kilter, off balance, out of sync.  Centered I am not. 

It seems this question of where I will live or more specifically, where will I grow roots has been a long asked question.  One that hovers over me sort of like a lazy man’s lasso ~ too loopity-looped to really ensnare anything.  For all the years that I lived in California attending grad school, I was unsettled.  This condition was due, in large part, in knowing that upon graduation, I would be called upon to make a decision ~ to choose between a warmer clime and those whom I call my family.  The choice though is never that simple or at least it feels laden with much more. 

I chose to return to the Land of Almost Always Winter to be close to my clan.  And now here I am again at the crossroad of choice.  Do I apply for a position in a much warmer climate near the ocean or do I take a pass and continue on here?  If I take my familia out of the equation, I have to admit there would still be considerations.  Things like a regular paycheck at a job that I will have held for a year next week, a rented living space that I like (even with the leaky roof) and a few local friends whom I enjoy their company.  And then, of course, there is the little or actually big fact of not having to pack up and move, again. 

Now, some might say that I am putting the cart before the horse.  I mean really, why don’t I just go ahead and apply for the position and then consider all of this other stuff.  Well because in order to apply, I must request letters of recommendation and only want to ask this favor of colleagues if I am truly interested in the job.  Plus, I realized that it’s go time as in let’s get it together and figure out where I am going to commit to living for a while.  If I am going to stay put then I could and should (beware of the should says a little voice) begin taking the steps to open a small private practice in addition to my 4-day work week. 

Come on self.  What’s the hold up?  The hang up?  What exactly is the sticky wicket?  The answers are here within my heart and mind.  Right?  Allowing myself to know what I know is easier said than done in the moment.

I started blogging a few years ago, initially using another server or platform or home base. This first foray into the world of a public blogger began slowly and in a small fashion; to be read by only a select few. The readers were known to me but I came to realize over time that I was not necessarily known to them. And that unearthing mutually shared topics of interest was no small feat.

So eventually I changed servers and somehow learned how to set up and then launch this blog. I say that I somehow learned, to highlight the fact that I am still, some years later and having forgotten the how-to’s of the start-up, totally in awe that I learned how to establish this home base.

I do think of this little blog as a home base of sorts. A home base that lives in the electronic cloud or the electric blue of the electronic world. A home base that easily follows me around this little planet of ours as I change my home base more often than I care to have to recant in this moment. Yes. This blog is a touch stone for me. A touch stone and a sounding board. A sounding board, touch stone and a connecting rod to others. Yes, indeed, this blog is all of that last sentence.

Mostly though, this blog is mine. Made entirely of my words, thought streams, ideas, fears, worries, triumphs, successes, good-byes, angst, new beginnings, good health, poor health, goodness, judgments, and dreams. None of which arrive in my brain or on the tip of my tongue or at the touch of the keyboard without input from others. I am not an island. All of my ideas, thoughts, and dreams owe their very beginnings to someone(s) or something(s) outside of my insides.

Osmosis. Influence. Subconcious. Peripheral learning.

All combined to create the seemingling instantaneous lightbulb of ah-ha moments in my psyche. Each thought a culmination of many ~ like dandelion seeds are scattered by weightless white fluff, so are our collective imaginings, ideals, and scenarios.

Each individual’s ideas are, indeed, unique to themselves because the collective nuanced idea from the outside is then funneled, sifted and mixed with the insides of that thinker, developer, dreamer. The grand total being from and belonging to the human being who springs from their soft warm paisley sofa, exclaiming “Eureka! pop open the bubbly and warm up the band, I have come upon this brand new, previously thought by no one else, idea!”

All of this is to say that years later, I am still trying to figure out how to truly make the best use of all of the bells and whistles that WordPress has to offer me. Take the Like button. This bell and whistle is a mystery to me. I understand the rudimentary basics, or at least I think I do. What I do not understand is how I can easily see who Like’s my posts so that I can connect with them. Do I need to go to each comment section of my post and check to see who has Like’d any particular post? Or is there a section like the Comments part that shows me that someone has Commented so that I can then respond?

Simple. So simple.
I am sure. The answer is right in front of my eyes.
Perhaps this blogging navigator needs a new compass to find her way.
Nevertheless, I am having myself a dandy time as I return to my home base today while I sit in the sun on that aforementioned paisley-covered sofa.

I find myself homesick for Berkeley. The feeling is followed quickly by doubt and judgment. Doubt that I would actually miss living far from loved ones and in a place where so much stress and anxiety took place. Judgment that I didn’t/don’t appreciate what I have until I don’t anymore.

In my own defense, it is not entirely true that I failed to appreciate and enjoy Berkeley while I lived within its’ city limits. I loved and appreciated the mild and wonderful weather, sun, warmth, the year-round greenery and blooming plants and trees. I enjoyed and appreciated the diversity of race and culture that were plentiful in the East Bay and outlying areas. All of this appreciation while I lived there.

What is true, however, is that I never felt at home during my Berkeley stint. The same is true in my current life. I feel as if I am waiting. Waiting to discover, to wake up to, to unearth what will come next. Where I will live, where I will work, where I will be whole. And I am not sure, am never sure that this is it ~ right here, right now ~ where I am at any given moment, month or year. I lived in the Berkeley Attic for five years; longer than I have lived anywhere in my adulthood. And yet the Attic felt like a transient abode. Never truly a home.

In fact, I wrote on my public blog and in my private journal of my life long active search for a home, where all the while I was living in my temporary home. See. Even here I label the Attic as temporary. I knew I would move and since the move was a given, I could somehow never accept it as my home.

I am now living in or occupying a 1970’s ranch style duplex rental while sometimes pining away for my former abode. While still yearning for my home that I will recognize as my home. Is this particular longing connected to my adoptee status? An attachment malfunction in babyhood? I do not know. Not today at least.

Today, I am simply sitting at my birch long table desk at the end of a long work day. Happy to be in the little place I will call home for the night.

Craigslist. Oh craigslist oh what for did we mere merchanise hounds and hunters do prior to your electronic existence? How did we find housing, scout out potential mates or lay our eyes and opposable thumbed hands on the perfect old and just right chipped gravy boat? Pray tell oh craigslist on high.

I have been using the heck out of craigslist of late as I go about my search for furnishings for my new to me rental home. And disappoint, craig has not. He seldom does or has. Oh there have been the occasional hiring of moving men who showed up in a foot cast replete with crutches. to move me and my then belongings down three flights of stairs. without his buddy who he swore would show up alongside him and I believed him and pulled my ad.off craigslist.prematurely.

There were also the responders to an almost new gas barbeque for sale who seemed to mistake the ad to mean sex for sale. Ummm. A real headscratcher, that one. Or maybe I don’t want to link that first sentence about sex workers to anything that might need scratching?

Where was I?

Oh right. My lust for craigslist. Urrr. I mean my love, my everlasting love and admiration for craigslist. Because I do. Love the List. So much so, I check him out every couple of hours. In more than one category under the Big One – For Sale. I check. I peruse. I ogle. Pictures are best. Oh the photographs ~ I can’t say enough. Bright images. of chairs. There are the dining variety of which farmstyle, cane, ladderback and broken are just a few of the styles. Then there are the settling into kind of livingroom chairs of which there are wingback, oversized and overstuffed, vintage, with or without ottomans.

And don’t even get me going on the For Sale, Household category. Oh My. God. We’ve got baby ceiling fans. White dishes for 10 that really are for 12, minus the chipped bowl and the two busted cups. Leather office chairs that could be pleather and adjust up or down but not back and forth. And a crap load of Party Lite candles and accessories (to which I have not succumbed, not even a little, not even after the 1,000th ad accompanied with color pics).

Okay. I hear craig calling me and my in my mind’s eye He is offering me the perfect dresser. The kind with deep easy gliding drawers, that stands about waist high and does not sport any malodorous lingerings. I count on craig and the list.

I’ll keep you apprised of my found treasures.

This morning I am sittin’ pretty. Pretty proud and pleased and happy with my newly hooked up wireless internet connection, that is.

Since my last posting, I am now ensconsed in my new-to-me but built in the 1970’s duplex rental. As part of the ensconsing, getting re-connected to the cyberworld was well up there on the list of must have’s and must do’s.

The month of July raced by with what appears to be the remaining bulk of our Getting Ready to Return to the Natural Almost Always Frozen state of affairs here in the Land of Frozen Faces. Today is a sunny blue skied day accompanied with the crisp air and smells of autumn.

Raspberries and blueberries are ripe for the picking. Fireweed blooms are almost to the tippy top of the stalk and some are even beginning their second beautiful phase of fireweed cotton. And, I have my internet connection back up and running.

For the moment, all is right in my little corner of the world.

I sent a few words up to the heavens late last night. And acknowledged, out loud, that it had been a while since prayer like words had crossed my lips or circled about in my head. This act, felt like coming home.

Apt. As I am closing in on my first night spent in my new-to-me rented place that may become my home. My home, for a while at least. My first night at this old-but-cute abode is still in the future but near enough that the anticipation has me in the state of gratitude.

Thus, the words of thank-full-ness sent up in a prayer last night. The beginning ritual of coming home.

It is has been a while since I posted on my favorita little blog. There has been a good reason for my absence, a valid excuse if you will. You see, I have been without the use of my laptop Toshi (human name for an electronic device) due to my being veritably homeless, meaning without a home of my own. The places where I have been housesitting have not been internet friendly.

Even now, I am not writing this on my familiar Toshi but on my host home’s computer. Makes no never mind really as I am simply happy to be able to say, I have missed you little blog of mine.

Howdy Hey and glad to see that you are still here.

My housesitting ways and stays will come to an end early next month and meanwhile, your junemoon is looking, very diligently I might add, for a new to me place to call home. Wish me luck. Lots of it. Good wishes too. Okay?

I was not expecting to be without a home yesterday. Most definitely not on my radar for a happening in my day. But living out of a suitcase I am today as of yesterday.

No need to panic on my behalf. I do have a housesitting situation for now so the roof over my head and a bed to sit on (yes, I continue to sleep upright ~ thanks to my visitor V, as in vertigo) are taken care of for the time being. And still, with all of that withstanding, I do not have a home. A home of my own.

I have not had a true home of my rented own for some time now. A good long time. A too long of a time.

So today, I am letting the proverbial pieces fall and settle and sift and flow on their own while I sit still for just a minute or two to get a gander at my new horizons.

Lonely. Yes. Heartbroken. Yes. Necessary. Check.

My recent move has gone smoothly, by and large. I am now fine-tuning little things. Establishing new routines. Finding my comfort zone in this new space. Navigating this change as I simultaneously settle into my new job. This getting accustomed to, requires my learning the P and P’s (policies and procedures) of this new workplace. I am unused to being an employee, having run my own business(es) for many years prior to my recent stint at being a grad student and intern. But all of the work stuff is really for another post because what I am thinking of this sunny afternoon is creating new routines in my new living space.

My companion “V” (aka vertigo) is requiring me to give up my morning joe. Dang it! I am currently trying out a new ritual to replace the Morning Cup of Rich Aromatic Dark Joe. The new plan goes like this ~ I arrive home from my place of employment, shed my work duds and replace them with my comfy soft home duds, fire up the laptop, and make myself a cup of peppermint tea. After the tea has steeped, I remove the bag, and drizzle in unsweetened soy milk, which I stir with a spoon. I then bring the cup of tea to my table desk, where I sit down and write my daily blog post.

This ritual has only taken place two times thus far and is far from being a habit. I think I am going to keep practicing this tea ritual at the end of the day on the days that I don’t have other activities planned. Maybe I will like it enough to set aside the time in the schedule. For today, I am glad that I have my cup of hot tea. The warmth and the minty taste and aroma mingle with the creaminess of the soy milk and soothes my spirit.

Soothing is good.

Establishing new comfort rituals and routines take time. I can be patient. The tea is helping me in that direction.

I forgot to factor in amongst all of my recent life changes that one of them was that I would be without internet access for a while. That does not mean that I was not thinking of my little blog and all of the missing-in-action posts. Because I was and I did. Thinking about this blog and the MIA posts.

But hey ~ life happens. Internet connectivity does not seem to be a right in the Bill of Life.

But hey, again.

And a real Hey as in a shout out to the blogosphere ~ junemoon and her duck’s butt have returned.

Now about some of my life changes. I now live somewhere else than I did less than a full week ago. I started a new to me job and today marked one week of this new employment. Let’s see, what else? Well, I gained a pound. Yes, another one. But a new to me one.

What has remained the same. The Big Vertigo is still my constant companion. I have nicknamed Him “V” but feel a bit strange referencing Him as such since some folks have comfused the “V” for meaning vagina. It’s not that I don’t have a vagina, it’s that the “V” in this case means vertigo. Hope that definition clause clears things up in the “V” department. Oh, and the “V” is still a bastard. A Big Unwanted Bastard. Oh, He’s Unloved as well.

Oh and it snowed like a blizzard today. Big heavy wet flakes. Perfect Snow Man snow. But I still believe that spring will arrive. One day. Further on down the road.

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