"Stoplight" Post Script

So, I didn't really mean to leave people in suspense for a whole week. It's been a busy week.

On Monday evening, I was heading to dinner with Maxine Hong Kingston, her husband, two professors, and other people from the English department. Last year at this time, I was excited to go listen to authors, and this year, I was going to go eat with one.

Now, I'm not usually one of those people who freaks out about famous writers. They're usually normal, down-to-earth people who have names that other people know. I don't think I would have freaked out as much if it had been just dinner. But I had been commissioned to write an article/interview/profile on Kingston's visit, so the pressure was on to ask questions that mattered. Good questions. Questions of the caliber that Philip Gourevitch of the Paris Review would ask. And yes, I put that pressure on myself, which I recognized, which I stopped to breathe through, which caused me to sit and write Monday's post--and remember that I could write.

To top it off, I was also to be Kingston's chauffeur through roads I usually walk because there is no space to park. Ergo, I was nervous. Parallel parking skills would be called upon. (But I have those--so what was there to fear?)

Then, over dinner, there came upon the interesting discussion of nerves--that nervousness one feels before one is going to teach. These two comments were made:

Kingston: "Oh, I still get nervous."

Professor: "So do I. And you know what I find? The classes that I don't get nervous for are the ones that don't go well."

So there you have it: the nerves are good. Hooray!

Overall, the night was a smashing success, and I thoroughly enjoyed my day with Kingston. She and her husband are disarmingly charming, delightful, and fascinating. But if I write anymore, I risk giving away that which will be forthcoming in a published profile.

Until then... enjoy the picture:
Oh, and I executed two perfect parallel parking jobs--so worrying about the driving was silly, too. Ha!