3.12.00 - 20:23:10
This has been a weekend of valuable lessons. While worthwhile in the long run, valuable lessons usually hurt and I look forward to them about as much as I look forward to invasive and dehumanizing medical procedures like colonoscopies.
I hate them.
Luckily, valuable lessons frequently can't be anticipated. They just happen. Out of the blue, pain and anguish arrives at your doorstep, unheralded, shouting "LEARN SOMETHING DAMMIT," while boring its way into your heart and soul like one of those electric drills my ex-husband bought and used for no reason other than for the destruction, sound and joy of it. Actually that makes valuable lessons more like emergency dental surgery.
I still hate them.
I learned yesterday that I can't do anything I set my mind to without first working at it. At 35, this appears to be something I should have been well acquainted with, but I'm a foolish woman with foolish expectations. And spoiled too. I've fudged my way through nearly everything I've ever achieved, and never really failed before. I'm great at first impressions.
When I grew tired of running a movie house and felt my life was dead-ending in close proximity to a popcorn machine while wearing polyester pants, I decided to become a technical writer. So I sent out some resumes and talked myself into the Senate chambers for the State of Connecticut, where I learned to write legislative procedure and computer manuals. When I grew tired of that, I wanted to be a graphic artist and photographer and I landed that kick-ass job in New Orleans where they paid me actual cash money and gave me a Pentax, a studio, a Mac and fridge full of free soda, stocked fresh every morning. Later, I wanted to be a web developer in Chicago and I landed that job too. No real experience, just a lot of fudging and smooth talk.
What could be easier than getting exactly what you want? Nothing as far as I was concerned. Once I got my foot in the door and was provided with a little time, I excelled at each and every one of these vocations. The one thing I never ever had to do, however, was pay my dues.
This weekend I wanted to be a newspaper columnist. "Sure," I said to myself, "I can do that. They want computer articles? I can provide! I'm on a computer all day long! What's so tough about that? Any monkey with an Internet account and Dope Wars on their Palm Pilot can spit those out!"
So my valuable lesson began. It began with a lot of reading, progressed into dozens of false starts and several dismal finishes, and ended with a pit in my stomach and a new-found respect for computer columnists. These guys (and gals) really know what they are talking about. They are experts and artists and something I could never be without years of education and experience, a solid set of contacts, and a bevy free stuff from Microsoft, Apple and 3Com to evaluate.
I have failed. I produced no column this weekend and I must now give the news to Parker tomorrow. He will be disappointed, no doubt, and give me that face that I hate. The face he gave me when I missed a few of his deadlines while writing those books for him. Though this time, I expect the face to be a little harder and more unpleasant. He's not getting anything from me.
What I didn't fail to do, however, was learn from this experience. Mostly, it was respect. Respect for the time, effort and determination it takes to do something well, to have produced a body of work before entering the doorway to a new opportunity. In fact, I now know I had absolutely no idea what it means to earn an opportunity.
Respect. I learned respect.
I also learned that I hate writing columns about cable modems and applied technology for families.
