Little Amsterdam...

Yes, you may envy me. Not only am I intellegent, passionate and smoking hot, but I will soon be a world traveller. This past summer I went to England with my family, but since it was a one time thing, I didn't really feel like that counted.

Today, I called home and my da informed me that our tickets for Holland are in. That's right: Holland. Amsterdam, ba-by. The land of red light districts and cafes with the goods, if you know what I'm saying, *nudge, nudge, wink, wink* (By the way, who actually winks and nudges like that? Please, inform me if you are in fact a nudgewinker, cause most people I know, just say it; they don't actually do it.) Of course, I'm not going to be participating in either of those activities as I am going with my family and I don't care that I'm not partaking in all that Amsterdam has to offer me and my esoteric state. I'm going to Holland for the 60th anniversary of the Liberation during WWII. Not only am I going with my da and sister, but my uncles, cousins and grandfather (who fought in Holland during WWII) are also going, and I couldn't be more thrilled. I'm sure if I was going with some friends, I'd want to at least see the cafes and red light district, but under the circumstances, I don't care. If I wanted a prostitute or pot brownie, I'm sure I could find it here. I'm more interested in seeing the largest Van Gogh museum in the world, or the Rembrants, Vermeers and Van Eycks. Some may see my ambivilance towards the district and cafes as an abomination, but the reason I would go to a place like Amsterdam, or the Nederlands in general is to see what I can't see anyday of the week. I can go to Toronto and see a woman selling her wears; I can pass by a university house and see pot brownies being passed around. Rembrant's "Night Watch" is a once in a lifetime experience which I am latching onto.

Also, I have to see the nation which produced such a Nobody. (His work is supported by the Netherlands Foundation for Fine Arts, Design and Architecture.)

Flowers from My Friends...

My friends are wonderfully surprising. Last week when I got into teacher's College, my friend Mike bought me flower, a sweet orange flower, wrapped with a ribbon. When I had my last Vagina Monologue performance, Anne Marie presented me with an orchid (my favourite) from their household. (I almost wrote the house number. Eee, that would have been unfortunate.) Small reminders that I am cared for, that they care back.

I'm afraid to leave this. I am terrified that I can not bring these wonders with me wherever I go. Of course I'm afraid I'll never find this again. What is this? I don't really know. Affection? Comradere? Inspiration? Liberation from my past aches? Laughter? Yeah, it's all that, but there is more there. I don't believe in "love". I think there is too much there for one word to hold it all, but here, I'm tempted to use it, because it's all I have to tell them of how I feel. I love you. Is that too much? It doesn't feel like enough. Please don't let me leave your lives. I swear, I'll bring you flowers.

A Righteous Woman...

Since I heard The Constantines' "On To You" it's been one of my "repeat songs", the ones I can listen to on repeat for hours. It's always kind of perplexed me that I can listen to it so much, but I think I've figured it out. I've always wanted to be the "righteous woman" he knows in that song, yet I have felt like I fall short. Now, I think I can stop; I think I've become the "righteous woman". Lately, I've been feeling like I can actually do things. I got into teacher's college; I got named "Dictator of the year";) and I did the orgasm monologue for the Vagina Monologues. Last year, I would not have thought myself capable of any of these things. It's the monologue that really did it. I have enough confidence in my intelligence and convictions to know that there was a possibility that I could get into teacher's college and be a fine enough director, but the orgasm monologue? I didn't think I had enough eggs to do that one. It is a very sexy monologue and I've never seen myself as particularly sexy. I don't like to do things I can't do well, so I never would have attempted that if it wasn't for the insisting of the director and producer. Before every show, I needed a lot of encouragement from the cast and producer (and they were brilliant about giving it. Thank you, my friends.) Nerves plagueme before any performance I give, but with the Vaginas, it was triple. Yet, I did it and, if I am to take the words of my friends and a few strangers, did it well. Tonight, a quasi-confident woman got on stage, a righteous woman got off. (In more ways than one, know what I'm saying? Awww shit...)

A friend said to me recently that confidence is the hottest accessory. I am going to be wearing out my "righteous woman" status like my favourite pair of kicks.

(Note: I am interpreting "righteous" in the 80s sense of the word, not the religious sense. I understand that The Constantines mean it to have that double meaning, but fuck it. I'm "righteous" like Bill and Ted. Excellent.)

Friday was a good Day

Yesterday, I found out I got into Teacher's College. I didn't care which of the three I got into, so I was glad Western was the only one that accepted me (though my parent's would have preferred Windsor. Why, I'll never know.) After four months of acting confident while chewing my nails and grinding my teeth, it all ended very anti-climactically with "Offer" on the Teachers Education Application Service website. Also, my wonderful friend Miss Sherry got accepted to Western, which means that she and I will (probably) be joining Luscious Laura.

Today, the chair of Finance and Building congratulated me on ... well he didn't say, so I assumed he meant teacher's college. After a moment of thought, I realize he had no way of knowing that I got in. I sent a quick little MSN message to the chair of the board who informed me that I got Director of the Year at the WLUSU Volunteer Appreciation dinner last night. Was I shocked? Aw, hell yeah. I would not have given it to me, as I see the work many directors have put into this board, as well as the stress it has caused them. Of course, I never see myself as worthy of anything, so I suppose I needed this. I have to appreciate the little surprises that remind me that, though I may not think I deserve them, someone else thinks I am doing a good job. Is this asking for outside validation? Perhaps, but I'm starting to need the surprises less and less. Perhaps I'm starting to believe that maybe I'm not a piece of crap. (I'm also very sure of myself, perhaps, maybe, almost. :D)

I'm going to be teaching your children.
I'm going to shaping their little minds.
I'm growing up.
I'm terrified.