Look! I’m not the only person who saves fortune cookie fortunes!
(So, Vernica and I had a little conversation a little while ago about whether we should respond to each other’s blog posts on our own blog or use the comments box. The conversation happened shortly after Vernica said she wasn’t blogging anymore and happened to write a long response to my blog post about professional library positions and the diffferences between “real” librarians and people who work in libraries, but don’t have masters degrees in library/information science or a related field. We kind of joked about how maybe she just should have posted her comments on her own blog and linked to mine instead of writing a long response on my blog’s comment box. So that’s why I’m writing this on my blog instead of posting it to her comments box. Yeah.)
(Now I can’t remember what I was going to say about fortune cookie fortunes and her post other than that I save most of them and the very important ones I stick on my monitor. I’m never sure whether to believe them or not. Some are so generic, you know? But I got one this year during the week of my birthday–in fact, I think it was when the blog group went to Changsho once–that had some generic statement on the fortune side (”You will be awarded some great honor”) and had the Chinese for “Happy Birthday” on the reverse. Creepy.)
But the writing thing. Yeah. What sticks in my mind the most from that summer at Governor’s School for the Arts and our creative writing class is someone standing up in front of the class on the first day and saying that only one or two of the thirty of us would be writing in 10 years. I think that was Lori Stori-Palitsch. (Okay, 29. Ian Abraham Steinberg-Dahl wasn’t in the room with us yet. Where in the world is Ian Abraham Steinberg-Dahl?) I’ve lived in fear since that day. Would I be the one who isn’t writing? Would the guy whose poems I liked not be writing? Was that an appropriate way to start off a creative writing class for high school students? Is it accurate to say to a class of high school students who had to do extra work to apply for this intense summer program in an arts school and tell them that only one of the thirty would still be writing? I spent a lot of time that summer wondering whether I am a “real” writer–someone who will keep writing–or whether I was just wasting my time. Why was I there if I wasn’t going to write in a few years anyway? I use that statement to justify why I don’t write more now. But I still write poems occasionally. I walked away from that summer feeling soooo energzied by the people I met there (Dusty? Are you out there? Will I ever hear from you again? Yes, I know about a change you went through in college, but that doesn’t matter to me. Please contact me.) and so disheartened about ever getting published or even writing past high school graduation. I’ve never pursued really getting published. I don’t even pursue writing that much, even though I have ideas. I envy my friend Kevin because he’s out there pushing himself to write and trying to get published. I don’t have the guts for that. But every time I don’t write, I think it’s okay because only 1 or 2 people from that group of 30 should be writing now anyway. And maybe that’s just not me.
Maybe, like Vernica, I’ve found a new creative outlet with this blog, even though I try hard to keep it professional. (Okay, maybe, not hard enough.)
But Chinese food and a DVD on Saturday night sounds good to me. Maybe I’ll do that tongiht since I’m going to a soccer game tomorrow night.
Addendum: I did go get some moo shi shrimp from the Chinese place down the street tonight. MMmmmm. (”To effect the quality of the day is no small achievement.”) Thanks, Vernica, for putting that idea into my head.