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Wednesday, November 10, 2004


My love for reading and writing started early and really started to blossom in grade school. I wrote elaborate stories and enjoyed making up fantastic fantasy worlds and telling my classmates all about them. I was very social, and my creativity was appreciated by everyone. Everyone, that is, except for my teacher.

She mistook everything I said and wrote as outright fibs, labeling me a compulsive liar. As a young child just learning to take the reins of inspiration and running with them, this was confusing to me. The person responsible for sparking my imagination was instead trying to put it out.

On one parent/teacher meeting with my mother, she brought up her concerns, quoting one specific lie that she thought was just absolutly ridiculous.

"Your daughter has been telling the class that shes been in movies that her uncles make and that air on television." She laughed as she waited for my mother's reaction.

My mom smiled and answered, "Well, thats true."


It was true. My uncles thought they had brilliant movie ideas that just had to be seen by the public, and so I, along with my sister and other relatives, starred in these movies that aired on public tv. They even had a television show, on public tv mind you, that aired every Saturday afternoon.

The movies sucked, but that aside, I was a local tv star. :)

I've made my way into another movie recently, and didn't even know about it until yesterday.

I spent the evening at Denise's house, visiting with her and the baby. Of course, she broke out the birth tape, insisting we watch it. Now, I knew I was in it, as I was there for the birth. But what struck me as funny, was that every single following scene, after I had left and then their home movies of her first bath, tour of the nursery, etc was filmed while Denise was talking to me on the phone. I watched the baby's first bath as I heard a familiar conversation that we had had only weeks earlier. The nursery tour had background noise of her laughing at my jokes and asking me about my son. In some form or another, I was in every scene of their home movie.


Let me tell you, I felt special. Loved. Like family. We truly are best friends, like sisters even, but this was just a wonderful reminder that I am loved. Its easy to forget how important your friends are.


At Wednesday, November 10, 2004 2:40:00 PM, Blogger Mr. Waterhouse said...

If you were in my class, I would tell you that your teacher's attitude was distinctly American--Puritan for that matter--and point out, o, let's say, five reasons why. Since you are not, we can skip the lecture. Phew.

When I watch old video, I am amazed by the side stories as well--what's going on just off camera, the phone conversation around it. Cool stuff.


At Wednesday, November 10, 2004 4:17:00 PM, Blogger & said...

You're just destined for fame, GW.

At Thursday, November 11, 2004 9:06:00 AM, Blogger wilde_thought said...

Teachers who stifle creativity. Sorry to say but you're not the only one I've heard such stories from. Well, you at least continued with your creative side.

At Thursday, November 11, 2004 9:17:00 AM, Blogger Red said...

GW, I know exactly what you mean about the friends that are like family. I'm lucky enough to have one as well. Those friends are rare and so much more precious than any treasure.

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