Maybe I Just Need a Little Pixie Dust

I had a job interview yesterday. I am going to Disney World tomorrow. That makes today seem somewhat uneventful.

The last time I went to Disney World was nine years ago. The day before I left on that trip, I quit my job in an uncharacteristically dramatic fashion.  I was an editor at a local alternative weekly. I was in charge of all the music and film coverage. The paper was run by a crazy old hippie who fancied himself a writer and apparently had enough cash to keep the paper going. 

The working conditions were something that only a recent college grad would tolerate. Our office was in the top half of a duplex in a not-so-nice part of Minneapolis. Our desks were probably salvaged from street corners. Our computer equipment was cobbled together just barely well enough to actually get a paper out every week (all reboots, all the time). Still, I worked hard because I didn't know any better and because getting paid (even if it was next to nothing) to write about bands and movies was awesome. 

But on that day - the day before I left for Disney World with my then-boyfriend and his then-eight-year-old son (he was so sweet then) - the owner, Mr. Peace & Love, called me into his office to inform me that I was no longer to write about any bands playing at venues that wouldn't advertise in the paper. Specifically, First Avenue...you know, the Minneapolis landmark? The place that all bands come to play? Mr. Peace & Love felt that us giving them press was like giving them free advertising. 

Those who work in journalism know that advertising and editorial don't mix. Otherwise, you're just delivering PR material and not news. 

So, in a passionate rage that only my idealistic younger self could have mustered, I yelled about his lack of journalistic ethics and I stormed out (which I recommend doing once in your career). 

And then I went to Disney World. Incidentally, when I got back from Disney World, I found out Mr. Peace & Love had stopped payment on my last paycheck, but that's another story. 

In what would be a fantastical reversal of Disney-related fortune, I'm hoping that perhaps with this trip, I will come home to a job offer. I'll wish on a star and everything. Fingers crossed.