I woke up, suddenly, and too early for a Sunday, full of melancholy and little homesickness. I can’t remember what I was dreaming as I woke up, but surely the emotional tenor of it is sticking with me. Before I went to sleep last night, I was going through some old pictures (looking for a specific one) and I think it carried on the theme this week of being blindsided by the past.

I’m not complaining though. I’m sitting on my awesome porch in my pajamas, coffee at hand, laptop, iPod. If it’s the simple things then I’ve got it good.

This week I’ve had three different guys express interest in me romantically and a fourth, who as yet hasn’t exactly expressed interest, but has resurfaced enough to renew my interest. Of the first three I’m not at all interested in two, the other is a wild card. It’s all only caused me to reassess for the millionth time if I’m really interested in pursuing something or if I’m just lonely, and it’s made me look again at what I really want. I confess I miss dating. Real dating, the early stages, where you’re giddy, you want to share all the little details with that person and they actively try and woo you. I could at this point use a little whirlwind romance and a little less reflective angst (Ha, at first I typed ‘reflexive angst’ which is also kind of true). Though I’m still unsure if I want it as a distraction or as a real, solid addition to my current life.

msandromeda last night I found that picture of you and mrpants in the backyard TV pen, looking as if you can’t figure out how TVs started breeding in your backyard. It made me miss you all so very very much. It’s Sunday, and I must go clean the house and do a million other small tasks, before the Nashville folks descend on the house for dinner, but how I wish you were all closer, Seattle peeps, and you could come for dinner too and hang on the porch with you and talk music and news and the world.