Cory Branan's Easy

Song #11, working for me well right now. Here are the lyrics:

It was like a dream
Starring you and me
And the cool blue shade
Of a lemon tree
And I didn't think
The whole thing through
And we both know
That's hard for me to do

But it was easy
It was easy with you

Time built up my border lines
Till I'd forgotten where I laid the mines
If someone got close the whole thing blew
So sure no one would ever make it through

But it was easy
It was easy for you

Still my restless mind sometimes kicks and quakes
'Till I amaze myself with my mistakes
She said "Nobody ever walks no ocean. Nobody parts no sea.
If you really wanna know devotion, take heart in me.
And my belief in you. baby I believe in you."

And it eased me
It eased me
It eased me through

I'm walkin' here!

Given my central housing location, I have been trying to counter balance my current 100 mile daily commute to work by exercising my pedestrian right-of-way. I walk to meet friends for dinner, I take the train uptown for events, and I even walk to the grocery store. For the most part, it's been working well. I get lots of extra exercise, build muscles while hauling bulging bags of food, and enjoy the wonderful weather. The recent grand opening of the "midtown" Trader Joe's has added joy to my efforts. Not only is it closer than the Harris Teeter, but it's cheaper as well. Today, I finally made the journey to what I hoped would be my new, more easily accessible food haven.

I believe this infamous clip best captures my experience: Midnight Cowboy I'm walkin' Here (warning on the language)

As my beloved neighborhood continues to city-fy itself, much more planning and considerations need to be made or I will be cashing in on some insurance (Yeah, crosswalks don't mean jack to this car-lovin' town). Luckily, $8.43 and several "I'm walkin' here" survivals later, and I'm sitting here with a small pile of goodies for upcoming meals and this sweet addition to my reusable bag collection (which I got for free...cash in that mailer, folks!)

Though risk was involved, I'm going to keep trying out my new grocery adventures and just pray that the rest of Charlotte catches up and slows down. :)

Habits of Home

On a pretty much daily basis, I do the exact same things within the first five minutes of walking in my front door. I sling my bag into it's proper place, drop off lunch bag/dishes/coffee mug in kitchen, and completely change into "comfy clothes." I mean I can't kick off my shoes, derobe, and redress fast enough. And it hit me today how odd this might be and I thought, "Does anyone else do this? No, I'm just weird." For instance, I walked in right at 5:00 p.m. today and now, at 5:06 I am sitting on the couch writing this in full comfy gear, which I will probably wind up sleeping in. It's not enough close to dusk and I'm in pajamas! And I do it almost everyday.

That got me thinking when and where this habit of home was formed. Two words: my mother. Queen of comfort, I watched my mom do this exact same daily ritual for 30 years now. Thanks, ma! I'm a freak. But there is something about this habit that makes me feel like the day has been left behind. The stress of class or the hard work of a project all seem to melt away when I toss my clothes into the laundry basket and slither into the calm of a tattered t-shirt and stretchy pants.

So I am now wondering what habits of home others may have...

Finally looking up in the world

(From: http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/ama/lowres/aman209l.jpg)

I am pretty tall for a girl. I often find myself looking down at or over people, particularly in my family. I am what one might call "the milkman's baby" because I am taller than almost all of my family members and have been so since about age eleven. Not really sure where I get, but it looks like another family member also possession some tall genes.

As most know, I have two half siblings--my 18 yr. old sister and my soon to be 14 yr. old brother. Because they are so much younger than me, I have enjoyed watching them "grow up" from the perspective of a parent more so than a sister. So when Sis was growing up, I always knew what she was going through--all the interesting and wonderful moments of girl-dom. Nothing was really unexpected, particularly her height. She was always pretty tiny and I knew she was going to be a petite thing, just like my stepmom. However, my brother has been a whole different story. Not being a boy, I didn't know what all to expect as he grew older, so it's been kind of a wonder to watch. But yesterday, as we were walking the streets of downtown Raleigh after lunch, I was really thrown for a loop.

I had to look up at him. Whoa.

Granted, I have been his measuring stick for the past few years now--having always been the tallest in the immediate family--as he inched his way up. I know he has been waiting for the moment when he could claim the title for himself, and it looks like that day has finally come. The uneven sidewalks of Raleigh did give him some help, but it is official: my brother is taller than me.

I know the measure of a man does not solely lie in his height, but it was fun to watch him "own" his knew status with confidence and a sly smile...that he now directs down at me!

Humbled in Mt. Pisgah

I am typically a person who likes to lead, but this past Thursday I gladly followed this wonderful woman as we hiked Mt. Pisgah off the Blue Ridge Parkway. She is an amazing person and is in an amazing time in her life. I just wanted to honor her here and some of the beautiful views of N.C. mountains.

Oops, I did it again

No, no, not the Britney spears "did it again," but rather the Mary Kay version. What am I talking about? Well, per request of a very sweet friend of mine, I attended a Mary Kay party. I will pause now so that those who know me, may laugh uncontrollably.

It's not exactly "my scene," but I am a girl, I do where make-up and use skin stuff, and thought I would just go for it. I should not be allowed at these things because my critically reflective eye is on full alert at these things! I just sit there decontextualized and decoding all the jargon, pamphlets, language, behavior, etc. and have a hard time moving past the fact that we are sitting there feeding into what society tells us a woman should be, do, look like, and so on.

On the other hand, I do use some of these types of things (not Mary Kay brand) in an effort to take care of myself. It's quite perplexing for a person like me--sitting on my high horse of "this is all ridiculously silly" while also thinking "oh, I do need to work on the wrinkles around my eyes."

Ugh. It makes me sick that I am even posting about it, but there it is. I have gone to these before, experiencing the same internal tug-of-war. And yes, I did it again! Why do I do this to myself?

Writing into the day...

So at the UNC Charlotte Writing Project, we write ourselves "into the day". It's a time for us to sit, breathe, and use the act of composing to bring us into the moment. I've been writing into the day since summer 2005. I do it everyday in class with my students. I do it in almost every workshop or presentation I give. Here is what happens when we "write in":

The room is quiet or, if the audience is willing, music might be playing. Daybooks or laptops are out. Thoughts flow from all over the place, generally no prompt or idea of what to write about is given. Minds are free to wonder wherever is needed.

Sometimes I write about nothing. Sometimes I write about how happy, mad, curious, nervous, frustrated I am. Sometimes I write about how hungry I am. Sometimes I write about how much I hope what we do in class that day "works". It is a moment--to explore, to see, to think, to write.

I value these moments, though I'm not always sure why. Offered like an open hand, allowing me to hold or approach the day how I see fit.