Who doesn’t like writing about themselves? I’m convinced I’m a narcissist, which must mean I am one since I actually sit and think about such things. And here I am about to talk about me some more!
I’ve actually thought about what my biography would look like before. Like if I become famous, or if I die fairly young and my parents have all my journals published (that’s 11 years of collected thoughts, by the way). I’m actually hoping that won’t happen because those thoughts are private and I would be embarrassed from the grave. But let’s dive in anyway…
I was born in Jamaica at the end of what I’m sure was a great decade: the 80s. My parents were young and I was their second gorgeous daughter, even better than the first (they’d never admit it but I know).
We moved from the capital, Kingston, to a small town on the west end when I was two, and I started kindergarten a month later. (Yes, I started kindergarten at age two.) I was actually a quiet kid, which is probably why I took to writing in journals so much. But as I got older, I realized I wanted to turn this writing thing into a career. I wasn’t great at writing stories because I could never finish them, so I thought journalism was the next bet. I did some research and read that journalists are curious and good communicators. I was neither. But I resolved to become both. It’s been only about six years, and I’m still not perfect at it, but I’ve never worked harder at anything in my life. I’ve never had to face so many fears head on. I’m certain no one had more trouble and nerves than me in Radio I and yet, I pushed on. Now, I’m so talkative I wish I didn’t talk so much, and I have this passion for information. I have to know everything. About everything. I have to understand every conversation. Movies from the 1940s? I heard a reference once and realized that I had never really watched any. That summer I compiled a list and borrowed as many from the library as I could. And I’m still not done.
Somewhere along the way, I developed an even greater passion for tennis that is the driving force of my ambition. I want to be a tennis play-by-play announcer. I haven’t done any announcing yet, but I did get to make a TV package last semester. I’ve even devoted a website my father gifted to me to tennis. Sure, such positions are usually left to those who are retired professionals, or who are even (or were even) capable of playing an entire match (I still can’t, but that’s a whole other story), but I’m convinced that I can and will make it. I just have to. And even if that doesn’t happen. I have my back up tennis plan. I’ll become an umpire. That way I’m right in the midst of the action, happy as a lark because I’m doing something that I love.
I’m currently in my penultimate semester at the University of Florida. I’m going to take a year off after college (who even knows what that means since I’ll probably find some textbooks to read or some new language to learn since I don’t know anything other than learning) to save up some money (that’ll be new) for graduate school. There was a point when I said I’d never, but I’ve found a masters in sports journalism program that I’d love to do. And it’s in England, somewhere I’ve always wanted to go.
And that’s life so far. it’s felt like so much more than that (there’s more: check out my resume), and to think there’s so much more to come. Don’t you just love it?
denisegburgess 