(no subject)
I have some serious ranting to do on the issue of Afrocentric alternative schooling in Toronto. However, it's Sunday evening, which means it's still the weekend, which means I'm still on mental vacation, so I'm going to save it.
Tomorrow, however; get ready for some vehement opinion-spewing.
My weekend has been lovely. Friday night I gave a women's orgasm workshop at U of O. Despite being work, it was the perfect activity given my frame of mind last week. I'm good at workshops. I'm comfortable speaking candidly about sexuality. I have good information to share and I really enjoy speaking with people afterwards. I left campus feeling confident and relaxed. On my way home, I stopped at Mags and Fags to treat myself to several home decorating magazines and a chocolate patty. I spent the remainder of the evening curled in a chair, learning about different types of granite.
Saturday day a mix of family time and then some precious alone time, while Drama King took the baby to run errands. I played The Sims for a couple of hours, the hung out with the boys until it was time to leave for my gig, co-hosting the March poetry slam with tinkerspink. It was my fourth consecutive evening away from home. Drama Prince was not happy to see me leave. Truth be told, I wasn't thrilled about yet another dinner away from the family.
But something awesome happened.
The slam was inspiring as always and a couple of poems even got me kind of choked up. Then rpriske performed a poem about his long-held aspirations to be a writer. And I began to cry. In that moment I felt certain that forces in the universe had conspired to put in that place at that time. I wish desperately that I could post that poem verbatim, because those were precisely the words I needed to hear. rpriske's poem reminded me exactly why I started writing my play in the first place. Because I want to be a playwright. That's what I want. And he made me see that no matter how good or not my play is, that if I follow through and do this thing, I will be a playwright. And a director. And a producer. I'm still terribly unsure of myself in this endeavour. I'm still afraid that I'll let people down. But have renewed faith that I'm not going to let myself down.
Tomorrow I will get back to work. I can't wait.
And then today. Today was exciting for entirely different reasons. I've had my eye on this beauty for a long time. Today I finally accumulated enough staff rewards to get it. As for this evening's activities, I'll spare you the details. Let's just say...that's good Sunday!
Tomorrow, however; get ready for some vehement opinion-spewing.
My weekend has been lovely. Friday night I gave a women's orgasm workshop at U of O. Despite being work, it was the perfect activity given my frame of mind last week. I'm good at workshops. I'm comfortable speaking candidly about sexuality. I have good information to share and I really enjoy speaking with people afterwards. I left campus feeling confident and relaxed. On my way home, I stopped at Mags and Fags to treat myself to several home decorating magazines and a chocolate patty. I spent the remainder of the evening curled in a chair, learning about different types of granite.
Saturday day a mix of family time and then some precious alone time, while Drama King took the baby to run errands. I played The Sims for a couple of hours, the hung out with the boys until it was time to leave for my gig, co-hosting the March poetry slam with tinkerspink. It was my fourth consecutive evening away from home. Drama Prince was not happy to see me leave. Truth be told, I wasn't thrilled about yet another dinner away from the family.
But something awesome happened.
The slam was inspiring as always and a couple of poems even got me kind of choked up. Then rpriske performed a poem about his long-held aspirations to be a writer. And I began to cry. In that moment I felt certain that forces in the universe had conspired to put in that place at that time. I wish desperately that I could post that poem verbatim, because those were precisely the words I needed to hear. rpriske's poem reminded me exactly why I started writing my play in the first place. Because I want to be a playwright. That's what I want. And he made me see that no matter how good or not my play is, that if I follow through and do this thing, I will be a playwright. And a director. And a producer. I'm still terribly unsure of myself in this endeavour. I'm still afraid that I'll let people down. But have renewed faith that I'm not going to let myself down.
Tomorrow I will get back to work. I can't wait.
And then today. Today was exciting for entirely different reasons. I've had my eye on this beauty for a long time. Today I finally accumulated enough staff rewards to get it. As for this evening's activities, I'll spare you the details. Let's just say...that's good Sunday!