So it’s that time of year again and once again I have moved interstate (actually this was over a month ago but I’ve been shockingly busy)… Thus is the life of the perpetual nomad.
I place the blame (or perhaps the gratitude) for my gypsy soul firmly at the feet of my father, if much of ones nature is hereditary then he and I make the nature vs nurture argument utterly irrelevant. When people ask me about my childhood home my first response is “Which one?”.
Continue reading “There’s No Place Like Home” – Clicked My Stilettos Against The Sidewalk.
Every relationship has milestones, a collection of firsts on the way to building a life with someone.
I’ve had a few serious relationships and a lot of firsts but in my varied and sometimes sordid past affairs I’ve never before made it to this one.
The first shared home.
Continue reading Signed, Sealed & Delivered.
Right now I’m up to my neck in packing boxes and feeling a bit like I’m squatting in my own apartment.
Taping up all the trappings of my life and wondering where the hell I’m even going to send them when my lease ends.
Another address I’ll forget in another city I’ll leave behind in another year I’ll feel like I wasted.
Just another in a long list of places that I never knew how to make home.