2.23.2006

walking it off, walking it on.

The last couple mornings have been perfect Pittsburgh mornings -- chilly but not frigid, sunrise coming just a little bit before I leave for work, a slight mist over Bloomfield as I walk up Friendship Ave. I've walked to work the last two mornings, yesterday because I was so bugged out about the previous night's poor sleep that I needed a walk to clear my head and today because I just wanted to listen to some damn music, and I don't really listen to my headphones much at work because I'm always afraid of people sneaking up behind me, since my computer faces the wall.

Walking to and from work, while potentially slightly fatiguing (it's about a half-hour walk at my brisk pace), is also a good time to reacquaint yourself with your town if you've strayed some. You're going slowly enough to frame shots of the streets and houses even in your own neighborhood that you don't generally notice enough to think of as beautiful. It's a good time to look out across the busway valley from pretty high up and think about how from here, if you were in one of those flying dreams, you could glide across from hilltop to hilltop and take an inventory of all the things you can spot in the chasms between.

Yesterday, I saw Liberty Ave in front of the hospital like it was in 1996, when my sister was a junior volunteer at West Penn and my mom and I would drop her off and take a walk around and maybe sit in Friendship Park. I said then that someday I wanted to live in that neighborhood, and it's ten years later, and I do. There was something refreshing about thinking about it as it was then, though -- devoid of people I know, a new, exciting place that was almost like hiding. Say what you will about home, it's usually not hiding, unless you're the Unabomber.

The restless part of the year, wherein I usually shave my beard, and often think about going somewhere else, is looming.

Tonight, French Toast and Allies at Garfield Artworks, then running home to see Sasha Cohen win the gold (right?)

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