I am home.
I finally flew into Harrisburg about midnight last night and made it home about twenty-five minutes later. I finally made it to bed about about 1 AM so I could get up about four-and-a-half hours later.
Needless to say I’m kinda wrecked.
So what was up this weekend? Most of you know I was doing something for Planned Parenthood, yeah? I think this picture sort of gave that away:
Here’s the complete lowdown: I was in Oklahoma City, OK, attending a PP Organizing Summit, where people like me learned about the tools needed to put together a successful campaign needed to affect change, as well as learning how to use those tools to make your actions work. While we could post pictures of ourselves at the summit, we were not allowed to tell anyone where we where or give out our location by tagging a picture.
This was the reason I could identify my position up to Atlanta, where we boarded our connecting flight to OKC, but once on the ground in the Sooner State we had to pretend we didn’t know where we were, even though we did.
Needless to say it was a lot of workshops and role playing and breakout groups working on getting our protesting know-how down pat. Oh, and we had a rally just down the street on early Saturday–while a wind whipped up that made me think of a certain song from a certain musical about a certain state–and we were on the local news. Below is a clip from the broadcast and at top center you might recognize a certain blond from the state of Pennsylvania…
So I was in a room way up at the top of a hotel:
And we had elevators that looked out over the atrium:
And I had a roommate, a lovely woman from a nearby state:
And we flew out of Oklahoma yesterday:
And while in the Atlanta airport all the women with whom I was traveling and I stopped in Chicken + Beer in Terminal D, a place owned by Ludacris, and had a fantastic meal. Also, the woman on my left, Sara, turned 21 that very day and we celebrated by having a drink with her.
There you are: I was out being a good little feminist, enjoying the company of other women and men who helped us learn how to make the world a better place. And I know I’ll have people telling me I’m wrong, probably while mansplaning how I’m oh, so wrong (fun fact: do you know where mansplaniners get their fact? From a Well, Actually…), but I don’t care.
I’m guessing this is just the start of another part of my life.
I don’t believe I’m guessing wrong…