Blogging Biz

February 22, 2009

This is it, I thought, this is my chance to commit to writing, get feedback and be on my way to a brilliant career in journalism .

The blog was created some week ago maybe and, as excited as I was about finally having my very own blog, I was preoccupied with school work and hadn’t had the time to get acquainted with my Dina – Writing & Editing blog. Initially I thought, seeing how it was part of the course material, posts would be mainly rhet-related. But after I got the thumbs up from my rhetoric professor, the world was my oyster.

All I had to do now was post something. And thence started my predicament.
But first let me qualify my excitement about blog. I despise blogs. At least on some level, I really do. They represent the tech-savvy whirlwind that has gripped us 21st century wandering souls. That whirlwind that I refuse to partake in. You should see my father. I believe his Apple-fetish is eventually going to drive us into bankruptcy. But that’s a different story.

I despise blogs, but (reluctantly) acknowledge their worth. They did after all create a new niche through which anyone with a grievance/complaint/thought/or your everyday baloney can vent. And so I succumb to its allure.

Righteousness aside though, I was just excited about posting my random bits. Which brings us back to my predicament: posting.

I used to be Head of an Editorial Committee at my old school so I was thinking surely I can find some juicy piece here or there, post it and maybe reminisce about the good ol’ times. I do remember always getting a thumbs-up from my friends and colleagues and my parents were always very proud. I carefully flipped open my laptop and browsed a seriously congested desktop. Interview Article (et), read one folder standing there smack dab in the middle of my screen. Voila I thought.

When applying for an internship in Egypt Today two years ago, I was asked to present a sample of “my work”. So I went through my old school articles, chose the ones I liked the most and put them in a folder. The very best of “my work” are in that folder, I thought. I clicked on the tiny icon and it promptly dilated taking up a good one-fourth of the screen, revealing contents that were to forever tarnish my sweet writing memories.

I was met with four titles: Sexual Harassment, Islamic Religious Brainwashing, Passiveness, and Life is Too Short. I remembered the context of each and every one of them and smiled to myself as I double-clicked Sexual Harassment. I was instantly bombarded by a roll of exclamation marks, block letters that were meant to accentuate the one word (“people should never EVER..” , for example), and a discomfiting set of swear words.

A few seconds of silent shock went by as I stared at my “best work” before I started clicking on the rest of the articles.

To say that it was juvenile would probably be a flagrant understatement. But for the sake of keeping face lets just keep it at that.

My shock very subtly escalated into sheer horror as I recalled that those articles were published and handed out at my old school, that I got my thumbs-up for those articles. Oh God. Those were the articles I presented for my internship interview.

No wonder Nikki – my super – was so patronizing.

Still glaring at the article, I quietly backspaced all my exclamation marks, swear words, and de-capitalized my block letters – all the while looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was witnessing my fabricating my own history.

True to form, guilt soon overtook me after the deed was done and, with a shot of minted green tea, a deep breath, and a clearer conscience, I started writing this entry.

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