Instead, I drove like a bat out of hell to my nearest gas station and bought three copies of The Orange County Register.
What? That’s all they had left.
I screeched into the driveway, jumped out of the car, hobbled into the house, limped down three flights of stairs, got out my magnifying glass,and opened up the paper to the Life/Food section (thank God that sentence is over; I was running out of verbs. Ha! no pun intended). There, on page 3, for
I know, right?!
My family, of course, was very enthusiastic:
“How come you used Jo Ashline for your byline? Can’t you refer to yourself as Joanna Agnieszka Bartlomowicz, daughter of the illustrious Polish-immigrant Margaret Bartlomowicz? That just rolls right off the tongue and sounds so much better, don’t you think?”
“Where is your picture? There’s no picture of you?”
“I thought you were going to be on the front page.”
“How come you didn’t mention ME anywhere in the article?”
After all of the supportive gestures from my loved ones, I realized I had to use the bathroom and took my article in as reading material. The whole experience was pretty intense. The article wasn’t half bad either.
I decided to head over to my local Starbucks, where I quickly noticed that NO ONE was reading my article, and so I may have purchased a half dozen copies, threw away everything except all the page 3’s, and placed them throughout the establishment in a nonchalant manner. I never realized being a writer would be so hands on.
So now here I sit at home, surrounded by
Anybody know where I can find a frame big enough to fit my article and my ego?
If you squint your left eye while blinking your right one rapidly, you should be able to make out my byline. Let me know if you have trouble, and I’ll let you borrow my magnifying glass.
Ian enjoying mommy’s article
(I threatened him with no breakfast until he read it )
*I used the term “my article” no less than five times in this post. I can’t believe you read this far. I’ve managed to annoy even myself.*