Well, I guess I've just irrevocably committed myself to D.A. Powell's workshop in Provincetown this summer -- just made housing reservations and scorched my credit card with the P-town standard 50% deposit. Ouch! The place I'll be staying is more expensive than I'd hoped to find, but I have a little mini-suite with a kitchenette, table, loveseat, etc. as well as wifi and A/C (I admit that I am a wuss about humid heat and despite the lovely sea breezes, there are days in P-town when A/C is awfully welcome). Admiral's Landing is nice enough to give a 10% discount to FAWC students, and it is less than a block from FAWC. (Big yellow house -- I'm pretty sure I remember seeing it and thinking it looked nice.)
The workshop is in the afternoons; I wish it were in the morning, even though I'm not a morning person, because afternoon is better for being a beach-bum or going out whale watching -- especially since I'm out of shape enough that hoofing it from that side of town to Herring Cove is a bit more than I want to do, so I rely on the shuttle bus -- which means that if I go in the morning, I have to be vigilant to make sure I get back in time for class. That's OK though. I'll still make it out to the beach a few times, I'm certain -- plus I'll have most of the day on Sunday before the workshop begins.
Why, yes, I plan things months and months in advance and have been accused of overplanning and obsessing over details. I don't care. It's part of what I love about vacations -- the planning and preparation and daydreaming about how wonderful it's all going to be. And despite the fact that I really have no business spending this much money, I think my little suite will be a sweet (hehe, sorry) place to spend the week. And with a kitchenette, I can buy pasta and sandwich fixings and stuff like that, and not go out for dinner every night -- that will save some money. Although it is REQUIRED that I go to the Lobster Pot at least once. God, their clam chowder is orgasmic. Also I have to go to Cafe Heaven once for brunch, for sure.
The workshop is "Vision and Revision" which sounds like what my writing needs. And here's my little studio, the Starboard.
Oh god, how I love Provincetown. I know that the economy has not been kind to it, and gentrification has made it all but impossible for anyone who isn't rich to even think about moving there. But as soon as I get off the ferry and all the couples of assorted genders holding hands, and the drag queens on rollerblades, and the middle-aged hetero couples from some square state with their eyes wide wondering what they've gone and gotten themselves into this time, and the artists and the writers and the few remaining descendants of the Portuguese fishing families who settled the town, and the Dolphin Fleet whale-watch boats docked at Macmillan Wharf, and dogs running along Town Beach and kites flying and rainbow crap everywhere you look ... I feel like I've come home.
In June of '01 when I went for a week (thanks to a generous financial gift from my mom when I finished my MLS), I remember walking home (er, back to my B&B, that is) from Chaser's late one night, where I'd heard terrific music & poetry by Doria Roberts, Alix Olsen and Pamela Means, and the streets were dark and quiet and a young guy in his early twenties sailed past on his bicycle calling out to everyone and no one, "I love this town!" And that, my friends, is how I feel.