A convert.

I have arrived. My roots still ramble, though, as I can only call this particular place "home" 'till December... but I have arrived nonetheless! And I have a rocking chair! I am lucky, indeed. It is a delightful Federal-style rocker that I sit in, featuring nicely embelished scrolls on the arm rests and a classic urn-shaped back-panel. It is a joined piece, old-school mortis and tenon style. A genuine oldie.

I like that in a chair.

But enough Antiques Roadshow (fans, give a shout!). As lovely as this chair is, its romance ran out on me about an hour ago. I've been sittin' in this butt-number since this morning, occaisionally rocking, but mostly intensely applying my over-stretched brain to such strenuous texts as "Gunfighter Nation," "Locating American Studies," "Virgin Land," and a handful of books on vernacular architecture. Y'see... I'm in this terribly abusive relationship called Graduate School. I'm like an S and M addict; except I get my spanking from Academia. I like it. Mostly.

In addition to my Academia-lust, I'm a journal-addict, both traditional and digital. Having lurked around friends' blogspots, though, I've been enticed to make the switch.

I've only just begun this whole Adventure that is Grad School, having just moved to a Big Old City. I'll begin working in the Real World, soon, too. With all these new beginnings, I thought it'd be nice to plant another plot in this digital-forest in which I might do some soul gardening.

Life is uncharted territory. It reveals its story one moment at a time.