"I been away a long time." (Last sentence of One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest)


Where do I begin?

I realized that if I didn't post on here for any longer that I would never post on here again. It's kind of sad that this blog, of all things, has become a gumption trap. You'd think that something I do ostensibly for fun, or release, would always be voluntary. Alas, I used to feel guilty over forgetting to write in my own diary--something that no one else but me will ever read. I used to have a dim idea that someone might want to publish it someday, but after re-reading it in my late teens and early twenties I have decided that it will be burned as soon as I'm dead--if not long before.

I know I haven't posted the interview with Scott yet. That, in fact, is the main reason for my discomfort of posting on here. Of all things. I'll probably have it up here before Christmas, though I can't make any promises. What I can promise is that it will be interesting reading. It was also somewhat heartening to me as an aspiring small business owner. I believe he said something to the effect that "If you want to open a small business, it can't be for work. It has to be for love."

And love is what drove me to finally bite the bullet and get in touch with the Williamsburg Winery. I told them that I was a chemistry major who would be graduating in the spring and that I was looking for a job to last the year between now and grad school. This is the reply I got:

Mr. May,

At present we are fully staffed in the winemaking department. However, if you have an interest we may be able to find a place for you in Viticulture. Obviously this not winemaking but grape growing is just as important and you get to work outside. If you think this is something you might like please let me know and I will discuss further with the vineyard manager.

Cheers, etc.

I told him, yes, I was very interested, and he replied that I should get in touch with them at a time closer to actual graduation. I'm kind of afraid to hope, and kind of afraid not to. If I hope too much and put all my eggs in one basket then I risk losing all the confidence I have if they don't have a job for me in May. If I don't hope, then it's not love. Love is hope in the face of danger to whatever end. For years my parents, guidance counselors, and teachers told me to "find a passion." For years I wasn't sure I'd ever had one, that I'd settle for some job and be reasonably happy and wonder for the rest of my life whether I had chosen what I really wanted. Now that I know what I really, what I love and want to do even though I know so little about it, I know what I have to lose--and what I have to gain.

For now I delve back into exams. But at night, when I go to bed exhausted and drained, I close my eyes and imagine the winery that I might someday own. Even in the face of everything that's hit me this semester--in the face of every rejection, every heartbreak, every abuse at the hands of Dr. DeFotis--I can't help but smile. There's no place I can be since I found serenity--but they can't take the sky from me.



I'm still flying.