weekends, aka catching up

My last post was 3 weeks ago you say? Good grief, where does the time go?

Sometimes I have to go backward before I can go forward. Of course, it’s not like I have to pull an OhCaptain and go three months back *grin.

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Three weekends past.

Three weekends ago was the all-girl cottage weekend. Jules was in from Australia, the Martini Goddess packed her supplies and we spent the weekend catching up and chilling.

I’m pretty sure that everyone was expecting reports of an estrogen based drink fest, especially when one takes into account some past behaviour of Jules + Kat, combined with the drink supply list that the Martini Goddess forwarded.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. Yes, there was drinking. (BTW, if MG offers you something called a Leopard Frog, accept it! And don’t mind the colour.) Lots of drinking. From the Happy Coffee ™ at breakfast to the last sip of the nightcap. But it was nicely spaced out and it was the accent of the weekend rather than the focus.

The focus was three bff’s, who don’t see each other nearly enough, just hanging out. Like all good friends who share a brain, we didn’t really need to talk much, and so most of Saturday was spent on the beach, sitting in the sun and reading.

Dearest friends, thank you so much for that weekend. It was utterly perfect, and just what I needed. If I had any regrets, it would be that I did not book more time off so we could have made it a day or two longer.

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Two weekends past.

I love working where I do, not just for the kids, but because I come in contact with some very cool and eclectic people.

Take Jenn. Jenn is hard to pigeon hole. She’s young, stylish, and cool. She owns a comic store outside of town and has introduced graphic novels as a very effective teaching tool to the English department. She is passionate about her fields of teaching (classics, latin and drama) and has managed to change my perception of two very dry and dusty subjects into something I’d wish I’d taken in high school.

Of course, without a teacher like Jenn, they would definitely be dry and dusty.

Her music collection is wildly eclectic with heavy emphasis on indie. And yet, there is a lot of classical in there, and she has a subscription to the ballet.

Not this kind of ballet. THIS kind.

She’d remembered that I’d said I’d never been to the ballet, and asked me to go and see the Skin Divers/Carmen performance that was given as part of the city’s Luminato event. I had read Anne Michael’s poem before and could not wait to see how it transform into a  modern dance/multimedia performance.

…. at this point I realize I’ve been staring at the laptop for about 10 minutes while I think of ways to describe those performances and how they moved me. I can’t; fucking awesome makes me sound like a 15 year old and anything else sounds trite and hollow. So I’m just going to leave it there.

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One weekend past.

Last weekend was spent decompressing. The end of the school year is enough to drive anyone a bit mad and you need to have a few days in hiding before you’re fit for human company again.

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This weekend.

Well, so much for that plan. I was supposed to go up and play with the Tuckfards this weekend, an event that I was greatly looking forward to; you have no idea how much. It would not only be the first time seeing the reprobates known as DonK and NutzCarson since Eh Vegas, but the first time I’ve played live poker since then.

Today started with a drive to Stratford to see the MIL. That whole situation is a story in and of itself, and a sad one at that. (Let me say a quick thank you again for all of you who have let me bend your ear and vent – I truly appreciate it!)

On the way home Keith got a call from a guy he works with, and they needed him up at a gig. Normally, he would say no because 1) he hates outdoor rock shows and 2) we’d already arranged for me to have the car (didn’t want to ride in the rain). But work has been scarce, so work wins. I got home too late to hop on the bike and head up there for the start time, proceeded to pout for a while, and then finished the night with the three B’s (beer, book, bubble bath) and an overdue blog post.

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Which brings me to…

Next weekend marks my first real getaway of the summer where I will be going to a cottage for a three day writing workshop. It’s project specific, and my project is writing the Alaska trip of last year. I am really looking forward to it, but there’s that little voice that is wondering WTF I’m thinking, wasting money on something I’ll never finish and no one would read even if I did; does the world need yet more stories from inadequately skilled scribblers?

I really, really fucking hate that little voice. Someday I’m gonna squash it like a bug.

Someday.