Sometimes You Can't Listen

Today, I was thinking about the next entry for THE WHY DO I WRITE series, and I started thinking about an experience from high school, from my sophomore honor lit course. Each year, we had a project that was due toward the end of the semester. The project for our sophomore year was to write a paper on a career we wanted to pursue, and it was mandatory to include an interview with a person currently in the job you wanted.

We had to notify our teacher before we started the paper as to what job we selected. When I told my teacher I wanted to be a writer she reminded me about the interview portion of the paper. I guess I should mention I grew up in a very small town. The most exciting thing in town was the Super Wal-Mart, and since I worked in the Wal-Mart pharmacy, Wal-Mart held no excitement for me. I digress. Since we lived in a small town, I think my teacher thought it wouldn't be possible for me to interview an established writer. In fact, she recommended I change my topic from writer to journalist and interview someone from the local newspaper. (I think this might have been the first time I vomited a little in my mouth and had to swallow it because of something said to me.)

I don't remember how I finally avoided the situation and made her think I was going to write about being a journalist, but I did and immediately set to work at trying to reach a writer. At that time in my life I was obssessed with Oprah's book club selections. I was reading Pearl Cleage's What Looks Like Crazy on an Ordinary Day, and I wanted an interview with Cleage. I stayed after school one day-- my high school journalism teacher/FBLA advisor/go to teacher let me use the department's phone to start my quest.

I was able to get in touch with someone at Harper who in return got in touch with someone in the Cleage camp. A couple of days later I spoke with Pearl Cleage, and I faxed her my questions. She mailed her responses back to me and autographed every page. I made an A+ on the paper, and I still have the interview stored away to this day.

You can't listen when someone tells you can't.

You can't listen when someone tells you to set your sights lower.

Last Blog Entry for 2007

Well, I wish I was bringing in the New Year on a more positive note. I had to leave work early today because I am so sick. The cold I've been battling for the last week finally opened a can of whoop-ass today by giving me a migraine. I started crying while talking to a coworker, which was embarrassing for me, but I went directly to the doctor afterward. Antibiotics and steroids... the doctor believes the migraine was caused by inflammation around my sinus cavities.

This is my first experience with having a migraine, and I am OK if this is my last. Growing up I saw firsthand how migraines affected my mother. My mother would stay in bed for a solid week if not more. I remember covering the windows in my mom's bedroom in an effect to ease her discomfort and having to make her eat. When I was a kid it was scary for me; I worried about her when I'd go to school. There were days when I would cry and beg for her to let me stay home so I could take care of her. Some days she'd let me. There were a couple of times when I was a teenager that I flat out refused to go to school because she seemed worse than usual.

OK. Enough of memory lane.

I received DOLLY AND FRIENDS the other day; it's simply 150 minutes of Dolly-Heaven. If you're a Dolly fan, purchase a copy today. Even if you're not a Dolly fan, purchase a copy today... 70s Dolly might win you over.

I hope everyone has a safe and fun NYE as well as a splendid New Year. May you obtain everything you want and deserve in 2008.