Pick me!

When I was in first grade, my class was going to put on a play for whatever reason it was that schools have to torture the students by making them perform on stage singing and acting for the parents to sit and watch, bored as they fantasize about that other, also currently bored, parent two rows up and four chairs over.

In class, we had just read the story that had some parts like the Three Billy Goats Gruff, in that it had a troll, but was different in that there was a cat, named "Kitty," and her mother, named "Kitty's mother."

Now, at this point in my life, my nickname was Kitty. Note, please, that I rarely admit that for the same reason I changed my name in the first place. That reason? Well, let's see, there was "Meow meow meow meow" (to be sung in the Meow Mix jingle's melody), and "Shitty Kitty" and all sorts of other cat references that after 14 years becomes just TIRESOME. So, when I switched schools (well, and states), I switched names.

In first grade, though? I was still Kitty, and oh how did I relate to the main character in this story! She was smart and clever and talented and, hey, she HAD MY NAME Clearly (CLEARLY!) I was the one to play this character when my teacher told us we were doing the play for the school's year end parent boredom event.

When deciding who would play what part, my teacher started reading off the various names of the characters available. If no one voluteered for the part, the teacher assigned someone the part. I sat eagerly in my chair, my hand poised to shoot up, just waiting for the teacher to say "Kitty."

She managed to say "Ki..." when UP shot my hand, as I propelled my whole body out of my chair. This was my moment.

Until I heard her finish, "...ty's mother?"

I sat down twice as fast, but the damage was done. I was Kitty's mother, and no amount of begging or pleading would change my teacher's mind. Nope, she had eyes for another student to be Kitty, someone who WASN'T named Kitty.

She didn't deserve the part! Any girl could be called "Mother." Heck, half the boys at that could be.

So, at the presentation, I was Kitty's mother. A fact I had pretty much forgotten until last night.

At the end of the Startonomics one-day conference yesterday, in order to encourage conference participants to fill out the evaluation forms, the conference organizers were giving away a handheld Flip Video recorder. I had filled out my evaluation form with excrutiating detail, giving each presenter thoughts on what I liked, what I didn't, what helped, what didn't and what I'd like more details in for his next presentation (I can say his, since there were only two female out of about 14 presenters). There were about 150-200 participants, not all of whom would have filled out a form, so I had about 0.5% chance of winning this recorder.

Now, I'm thinking I totally want one of those video recorders. ESPECIALLY if it's free. I'm not particularly interested in spending $200 for one, but if I win one, hey, cool, I'd use it as much as I use my camera (which, come to think of it, would be sure to annoy my teammates).

So, when Dave starts to draw the winner out of the stack of completed surveys, I was thinking, "Pick me. Pick me. Pick mine. Pick me. Pick me. Pick. Me."

Dave reaches down, draws three surveys, pauses as he looks at the name at the bottom, and reads off "Kitt Hodsden."

WHOO! I'm so excited! My heart starts thumping. YAY!

I turn, sling my backpack over my shoulder, and hustle up to the front.

To be handed a t-shirt.

An XL Google Analytics t-shirt.

Uh...

Um...

Thanks?

I stepped to the side, shoved the shirt into my backpack, and stood disappointed as Dave continued, "And now, for the Flip Video!" and drew another name from the stack of surveys.

Pick me my foot. What am I going to do with another oversized t-shirt that's too big for even Kris? Another night shirt? Maybe stuffing in a dog bed?

Yeah. Pick me.

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