Safe Place

I have been terribly remiss in regular postings lately. Between sleeping, eating, West Wing reruns, trips to the bathroom (they add up!) reading (and finishing) My Horizontal Life by Chelsea Handler, watching parts of three movies, there was a haircut, regular flossing, Krogering (too much), not to mention the usual amount of much needed me time, I haven't been doing a whole lot of writing. I have been doing some writing, just not a lot of finishing. My latest excuse/reason is, I am halfway through my 2-week improv intensive that I teach every summer, which doesn't leave me a lot of brain power or energy to expend on anything else. I am bad. I am weak.

I've got a good group of kid's this year. At least no one pulled a knife on anyone this time. (So far!). It wasn't intended to be a menacing gesture. There wasn't a rumble out on the promenade, it wasn't a knife fight over bad imrov scene choices or a lunch money stick up. It was just a boy trying to impress a girl after class one day. (Chicks dig bad boys!) I wasn't even there, but I got a call at home later asking me about it, every was fine during class, I said. At least he didn't find my gun, I joked. (Too soon?) The situation was straightened out immediately, parents were called, students were warned, and it never happened again. Perhaps the cruelest blow of all, the girl wasn't impressed.