This is going to be one of those fantastically bad posts where Susan just blah-blah’s over everything. She’s too tired to think in a narrative. Jot notes work better.
- Susan is living with a visually-impaired woman she met doing nails. Her name is Joyce and she’s a free spirit who once smoked pot at Bob Marley’s grave. Her boyfriend–who is 20 years younger than her– lives in Barbados (“He has a cute butt.”) Her apartment is filled with vinyl records, antique furniture, African artwork and masks. There’s a framed pic of Malcolm X on one of her dressers. It feels like a Grandma’s house. Joyce told Susan she’s welcome to have sleepovers with boys. Susan assured Joyce she needn’t worry about that. She’s waiting till she gets married. Joyce was mildly disappointed by this response. Less because of Susan’s unpopular conviction and more because no love-making would be heard within earshot.
- Joyce’s niece, June, is visiting from Halifax to help her aunt pack for a long trip to Barbados. Sometimes they go out gambling till 5 in the morning. When they come home, they keep saying how they wish they were 30 like Susan and didn’t have sciatica anymore.
- Susan is attempting to be more modest with her clothing choices. Not because she wants to hide her body. That’s not Susan’s problem. She’s not ashamed of it, she just feels like growing up in this area. Think of it as a re-branding. The whole process is a bit of a trial-and-error. She’s not sure what modest, fashionable, clothing is out there for women whose boobs are bigger than both hemispheres of most people’s brains but she’s going to keep trying. Saturday was a massive fail but luckily, today is a new day and so is every day after that.
- Susan visited with her Dad over the phone today to celebrate Father’s Day. It’s been a long time since they’ve done that… it was lovely. Susan missed him.
- Susan isn’t sure what the future holds but after fasting and praying for a couple days, she’s decided to finish off her degree (there were a couple weeks, prior to this, when she wasn’t sure if she would. It’s a long story and hopefully she can share it with you one day). Her plan– as it stands now– is to finish the degree and come back to Toronto after. She wishes she could finish it in TO but the Education program at the U of Regina says the internship must take place in a school in Saskatchewan. It’s a move of faith and whether it succeeds or fails, Susan is okay with that. The only reason she can say that is because once upon a time, she tried to move back to Los Angeles and got turned around at the border. She was positive this was where God wanted her but when she was bounced back, it knocked her down pretty hard and she didn’t know why things would fall apart when she knew so deeply that she was supposed to go. It took her awhile to see why God would lead her that far only to turn her around but the things that followed afterwards proved to Susan that God had protected her from many, many things… Whether He makes a way or not, whether she makes it back to Regina or if everything falls apart and all her plans fail and she stays in Toronto, she knows she will be okay. He’s taken care of her this far. He will do it again. For now, she will continue to work towards going home to finish her degree. Whatever happens, happens. One step at a time.
- Susan saw a great play last night called, “Molly Bloom.” It was directed and adapted by Jocelyn Adema, another Saskatchewan-ian like Su. Work like that is the kind of thing Susan dreams of creating: intimate, warm, grounded, site-specific, sassy, sexy and brave. The women performing were strong, too. Like, it was alive and real and the movement was imaginative and the performers’ range was wide. It makes Susan miss performing. She’s so rusty and needs to take a class (probably a couple). Maybe she’ll be able to do that after her degree but she misses playing with people onstage and feeling alive like those girls were. Thanks for sharing that, ladies. Susan loved it.
- Susan wants to keep writing but she’s so tired and still has to have a shower and make her bed. Maybe she’ll stream-line her conscious thoughts another day. But for now, she must say adieu.