Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow ...

Tomorrow (used for the fourth time in this post), I'm going to a luncheon hosted by the Maine Writing Project. I opened my school email last week and found an invitation from the acting director to come to the luncheon and share my experiences with and thoughts about the writing project and what it can do. Seriously? They're going to feed me and give me a tshirt to talk about how much I love the MWP? As if. I could go on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on some more about how much I loved this opportunity and everything it's done for me. I can't even completely verbalize it for myself, let alone for other people.

I'm always a little scared when I go to MWP things. I walk in and expect to see my people, and then they aren't there. It's bizarre, and sad, but also humbling. I knew last summer that I was immensely lucky to have had the group of fellows I had. But, I find lately, that I feel even more lucky. We meshed so perfectly together - a fact of which we were all well-aware last year. The thing that continues to surprise and amaze me is how close we've managed to remain.

Granted, we all have our separate lives, and we don't see one another as frequently as I think we all would like. But, when we get together, it's like nothing changed. We chat and joke and have fun like we're sitting in Shibles 204. It's so easy with them.

When I think about what the MWP has done for me, the first thing to come to mind is that it gave me so many wonderful, new friends. A lot of the things that I've done in the past year have been a result of the friends and connections I made at the writing project. There's no way I could ever list everything that I got out of the MWP, but a good place to start would be these 12 people: