Alexandra Bogdanovic's Blog: That's life... - Posts Tagged "competitions"

Sorry I've gotten off to such a late start this week. I've been busy licking my wounds.
You see, my ego has been battered and my pride is a bit bruised. Simply stated, I am a sore loser.
After giving it some serious thought, I entered several book contests this year. And much to my delight, judges selected "Truth" as the winner in the Gay Literature category in the first contest I entered. It was selected as runner-up in the Biography/Autobiography category in the second contest I entered.
So yesterday, I could hardly wait to see if I'd placed in an even bigger contest. Organizers had informed the authors that they planned to announce the results on the "down low" before making the official announcement next week. Undaunted by previous emails detailing the number of entries and fierce competition, I was convinced I would win something. Maybe not a gold medal or even a silver. But I was convinced I had a realistic shot at a bronze medal. No, make that a good shot. A very good shot.
After all, I read the judging criteria and I just knew "Truth" met them all. There was no doubt in my mind that my book is timely and well-written. What else could those judges possibly expect?
Confident, I started checking my email at 9 a.m. There were lots of messages, but not the one I was expecting. So I checked again an hour later. Still no luck. By noon, I was checking my email at least two or three times per hour with the same results. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
By the end of the day I was fed up with the whole process. But just when I was about to give up altogether, the email finally arrived. I felt my pulse thumping in my neck as I opened it and clicked on the link to the result page. Eagerly, I scanned the list, trying to remember just which category I entered. It didn't matter, though. I didn't see my name - and as much as I wished it would magically appear, nothing changed when I re-read the page.
Maybe I entered the wrong category. Maybe the judges just didn't like the book. Maybe the competition was just too good.
I did my best, and this time it just wasn't good enough. But in the end, that's OK. Even I can't win them all.
Until next time, "That's life..."

So I had a very interesting time in New York City last weekend.
Trying to ignore the fact that it was freezing cold, I took the 9:46 Metro North commuter train to Grand Central. From there I took the 6 Train to the Flatiron District, where I joined a couple of people from the Memoirs Only Book Club for brunch. We discussed Life on the Line by Grant Achatz. Although I hadn't finished the book, I enjoyed the conversation... and the food.
Afterwards, I ventured back into the cold with camera in hand. I planned to do some street photography before heading uptown to get some shots of the Manhattan skyline from Top of the Rock.
I had walked less than a block when I stumbled upon a street fair where vendors were selling food, jewelry and durable goods. At one booth, two women were doing astrological readings. I had no intention of having for one, but one of the women accosted me.
To make a long story short, she insisted on reading my palm -- for a small fee. Reluctantly I agreed, and listened while she told me about my past, present and future. Sometimes she spoke in generalizations, making statements that could apply to anyone. She could have reached some conclusions by reading body language. Some of her questions and predictions were uncanny.
She asked me about the significance of California and Florida, and it just so happens that I recently entered literary contests in those states. I don't know how she could have known about that, unless she had some sort of super-duper X-Ray scanning device that saw the post office receipts in my wallet.
The reading went on... and on. I grew increasingly wary as it continued. There had to be a catch -- and of course there was.
I learned that there is a lot of negativity in my life and that I am spiritually weak. I needed five crystals to restore my spiritual balance, thereby "fixing" everything in my life for a mere $500.
That did it. I'd had enough, and expressed my opinion in no uncertain terms. It was one thing to fleece unsuspecting people out of a few dollars for a reading. Fleecing someone out of a few hundred dollars is another thing altogether.
Call it karma or call it fate, but I got the last laugh. I'd agreed to let this woman do the reading for $20. But when I looked, I only had $17 in my wallet...
Until next time, "That's life.."