Sunday, April 11, 2010

Mariah Whitney JLo

I ended up changing the first part of the article yesterday. In true artistic dramatic form, I almost sent a message telling the interviewee to write his own damned interview. I’m sure it’s no shock to anyone else, but I was quite surprised by my theatrical reaction. I guess I shouldn’t have been. I tend to be fairly accommodating and easy going—rarely pushing my own agenda. However, with my writing it’s different, and I don’t like being told what to do by anyone. I guess the combination of those two bring out the diva in me. Anyway, I sucked it up—shoved out an inferior draft that made him much happier and almost made me ask for my name to be kept off the article. Something I was so proud of turned out to be lack luster and weak. However, the draw of seeing my name in print was too much of a draw and I sold out. I guess it is good practice fore when I have an editor.

It was just one of the endless chain of events that led to a very pissed off day yesterday. Thing after thing after thing. Actually, it was kinda nice. Things that came up that typically would have made me cry (sure you can imagine what those could have been) simply made me furious. I much prefer dealing with anger and with an endless supply of tears. Plus, when I’m mad, I go out and do things—some very productive and some notsomuch. Either way, it is vastly preferable to sitting at home weeping.

And that’s all there is to say, folks…

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