the morning of our lives

The one tiny swamp cooler in our apartment which is supposed to cool the whole place, is located in my bedroom. So during the hot summer months, every night I go to sleep and then wake up to the sound of the old machine trying it's hardest to push out enough cold air to stay ahead of the heat (it never does).

But now that the weather has shifted and the swamp cooler is no longer needed, I get to return to my evening and morning fall/winter/spring routines. At night, it consists of falling asleep listening to mellow music. In the morning, it means setting my alarm clock for a time earlier then I would ever actually get up, turning on a light and NPR and falling back to sleep. So I fade in and out listening to the news, tearing up at the StoryCorps stories and realizing it it must be a Wednesday whenever I hear Frank DeFord's voice. There is something very comforting in it especially in the winter when the mornings come cold and dark and those Morning Edition voices sound friendly and awake.

Today while I was rushing around (because I'd hit the snooze button too many times of course) this story about the feminist bra-burning myth came on (listen to the audio, it's much better that way).



I thought it was a great piece and really interesting. Listening while curling my hair and generally prettying myself up, I thought how wonderful it is that I can be totally aware of both my femininity and my intelligence at the same time. I thought how I'm grateful to the women who took the crazy hit through their extreme measures so I can go about most of my days not ever feeling limited or held back or respected less because I am female. I find that rings true in the workplace and the schoolplace and the socialplace. When I look at the shinning examples of friends and family members I have who are strong women and equals in all senses to their husband counterparts, I believe that will carry into the wifeplace and motherplace too someday. And though I do go about half my days bra-less, the real liberation of that feminist movement comes in how wide open the world feels to me.

So thanks angry women of the 1960s, this girl sure appreciates you.