Give me a D

I’m doing another workshop with Playwrite Inc.

Sometimes, after a workshop, and I am sitting in the car, with the other coaches, on the drive back into the city, I pretend that this is my real job; that I actually work one on one with teens and coach them into writing plays. If it was my job it would be a great job, but it isn’t. So, let it go.

I live in a lot of half-truths.

The workshop will be ending soon, and then I will go back to working full-time at the store, where my job has absolutely nothing to do with what I want to do, but let that go too.


Since I last posted, I went to another Write Bloody small house reading, it’s always nice to hear the poets from Write Bloody, and I received some information regarding the attic; and what to expect from the upcoming meetings with my writing group. I have not done a letter of writing since the day I read publicly in front of my peers. I suck. I do. Oh well. I’ll either be some dynamic amazing writer/performer who busts out of my shell and changes the way people view the writing world or I will disappear; it’s a 50-50 chance. I love how I am so dramatic. It’s not, “oh I may get my book published some day or I may not finish it,” it has to be “affects the way the world works or death!” I mean seriously.


The Antheneum begins in September and that is about it so far. The workshops end this Friday, and that is it till the performances, and well, C’est la vie.

Oh, and I am trying to sew a skirt which is crazy funny because I don’t know how, but I am trying, and in my mind, this skirt is awesome.


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