v2: The longer the night lasts, the more our dreams will be

Chinese proverb.

It's funny how the universe goes sometimes. You don't know your way, and then as soon as you depart down your path it takes you twisting and turning in directions you never thought possible, through emotional highs and lows, in circles of conventional logic, until at last you reach your destination; miles away from where you thought you'd be, and only millimeters from where you started.

I'm speaking of my recent experience trying to write for the Sheridan Sun, an article about the arbitration process. I told you yesterday there was some major shit going down with that story; shit I will now share.

So what happened was that I, being a major tool, volunteered to do a story about the arbitration process. Pretty decent assignment, I thought, but when I sat down to get it all figured out, I became overwhelmed. I decided I'd talk to the OPSEU local about it. That's when things started to get bizarre.

I waltzed into the OPSEU local 244 and introduced myself, breathlessly, "I'dliketotalktosomeoneaboutthearbitrationI'm herefromtheSheridanSunnewspaper." So luckily I was within earshot of the Union local chapter president, Doug Law, who tells me, "I actually don't know anything, there's been a press blackout. They're not telling anybody anything, and they haven't told me anything." So he gives me the number for the president of the OPSEU and says he doubts I'll get anything out of him either.

So I begin to laugh at the turn of events. The story I was dreading having to write had turned, I thought, into some Kafka-esque absurdist nightmare about secret motivations and a shroud of secrecy. I tell Leslie, one of my editors, what Law had told me, and she agrees that that's an interesting and bizarre twist in the story I ought to pursue.

So I fire an e-mail off to the OPSEU hoping to get this "press blackout" explained. I must have laid it on a bit thick, too, because I got a rather tersely-worded response from the press agent for OPSEU saying, (I paraphrase:) "I don't know when you spoke to your Local president--" (which, I reiterated, was that very morning,) "--but the blackout was lifted as soon as the teachers went back to work. You can read about it at our website. Oh, and a word of advice, as you are a journalism student: journalists who threaten sources don't get stories."

I made some vague references to it being "in their interest" or "preferable" or something, for them to tell me why they had set down a press blackout -- which I had been told was the case -- and that was taken as a threat. Um... yeah.

So the story ended up being about four or five short paragraphs about the arbitration process. In a newspaper it will probably look longer. I don't know.

Now, I'm okay with it now, but when that asshole press reporter fellow sent me that e-mail, I was crushed. Imagine, for Arrsted Development fans, Tobias sitting in the shower with the washcloth crying after losing the commercial in "Top Banana." that was how I felt when that arrogant press guy sent me that letter. Did I deserve it? Maybe I was a bit uncouth and that needed recognition. No need to be a prick.

So thankfully, I have completed my first assignment, but not without a cost. My self-esteem. Well, I can grow that back. I always do. It's just fragile as ever, though.

Anyway, that sums that story up. Life will be more interesting later this week, possibly.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

Addendum 12:09:: I find that lately I'm not including the small details that flee my mind after they're gone. For one thing, I keep neglecting to mention the weather. Remarkable. For another, today was "Spring Forward," which I love despite the havoc it wreaks with the circadian rhythms. I actually lay down and kind of half-napped for about 20 minutes this afternoon. Weird.

Well I've gotta get to sleep and rst up. Early day tomorrow,

KOR again-SAW