That's what my upcoming trip to Calgary is going to be like. I can feel it. It might not get me an actual job, but it will be nice to slide out of my comfort zone (which is really comfortable) and make me take some chances and actually talk to people.
So I leave on Wednesday, and I have a lot to do. I want to see if I can get my car stereo fixed for a marginal amount of money. Cause that's an eight hour drive without music my friends. I might just have to borrow some cash from my brother to get a new one put in. Anyway, there's also laundry to do, and resumes to photo-copy and cover letters to write and clippings to photocopy. My portfolio looks really unprofessional with all these photocopied clippings. Oh well. I'm a journalist, not a PR flack.
But with all this to do, you think I would be, you know, doing it. But I'm not. I'm here. And I've got about ten minutes to crank this entry out before going to get a slurpee and some tacquitos with Lor, and tonight, I'm going to kidnap my incredibly witty, verbose, funny, smart, entertaining friend Tiffany, and we are going to do something fun before she heads off to Japan and forgets all about me. And before I started this, I cleaned the house. You know. Because I *had* to. Because there's an unwritten rule that states: When you have something important to do, do not, by any means, do it. Instead, do everything else you have ever meant to do, ever. Change over to a new address book, organize your CD collection, vacuum, get a slurpee, write that kid from camp who's address you don't even have anymore. Make a few mix tapes, brush the cat, brush yourself after brushing the cat, decide to make supper, decide that before you make supper, you should really shower, think to yourself: "You know what would be great? If I went for a bike ride before my shower."
So you see, I am the master procrastinator. But this weekend, I did get some pretty awesome stuff done. For instance, I got a call from an old editor, asking me to freelance some stories. The premier came to town on his annual "Hey! Is it re-election time already?" tour. My editor asked me to cover it, so I did.
I've been really worried in the last little bit that maybe, as I watch endless episodes of WKRP in Cincinatti, my brain has atrophied, and I will no longer be able to pick up a phone, dial a PR flack's number, and get some information. But that wasn't a problem. I was a dialin' fool, yo! And then, I went on a tour of a wire and cable plant, which was really cool. And the next day, I went to the grocery store where they were meeting and greeting with local yokels.
Surreal. I know that when I make my grocery list, I usually include: Bread, eggs, milk, apples, cheetos, diet coke, speak with health minister about medicare benefits, eat cherries in produce section with agriculture minister. It was nice that they were there. I like to be able to stroke everything off my list.
So that little freelancing gig sort of boosted my confidence. Yay for me! I look forward to regaling you with tales from the big city when I get back in about a week.
Tube: the food network, baby. What I can do with a rack of lamb, would bring tears to your eyes. And not in a good way. Other than that, I highly recommend you getting yourself over to homestarrunner.com. Trust me. Pom-Pom gets the digits like, every day!
Tunes: Elvis Costello - Waiting for the End of the World. I'm going to see him in Calgary on Thursday and you're not! Thhhbbbbpppttt!
Pages: Indian Summer, the story of Louis Sockalexis, the first native baseball player, for whom the Cleveland Indians are named. Bet you didn't know that!
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