Tom: Changed!!!

Oh no guys! I woke up this morning and I had turned into an absolutely gorgeous blonde with big tits! What will I do now that everyone wants me?

Too on-the-nose? My creative writing teacher always said I was well-suited for journalism, based on how much imagination I have. Harsh... not wrong, but harsh. No, I'm still me, dark hair, brown eyes, pudgier than I was five years ago, but hey, beauty's on the inside.

Thinking back to that prompt from yesterday, I got stuck on "how I got here" which can really be interpreted a number of different ways... what train did you take, how did you hear about the place, what's your business here... what about every decision you have made in your life?

When I was a kid, we were asked to do a presentation on our grandparents for class. That was the first time I heard about Manzanar, about the way my grandparents were treated during World War II. I thought it was fascinating, but I was still a little bit young to understand the dark implications. All I know is that when I told the story in Grampa's own words, it made a room full of (mostly white) people very uncomfortable. That was the beginning of my realizing that the truth and the written word can be powerful things, which ultimately led me from Denver, where I had grown up, to Northwestern for Journalism, to my adult career.

Twenty-some years later, Ojisan and Obachan are no longer with us, but their stories stuck with me, and I understand it a lot better now than I did when I was thirteen. No, I did not become the Japanese Bob Woodward (which, given Bob's work lately, maybe that's a good thing) ... for a long time I was toiling away in trade mags, like most J-School grads, covering the tech beat, until I decided it was time to level up or get out of the grind once and for all. At my lowest, I was doing a lot of "Why you need the iPhone 11 Pro Max" pieces that were basically unofficial marketing. Sometime during the pandemic I decided I wanted to be a real boy journalist again and started seeking bigger assignments.

Which is how I got here. I've turned from someone who was just sort of adrift to something of a workaholic. It's cost me at least one promising relationship (with, yes, a pretty white girl... your boy has a type) but I don't regret it. I finally feel like I've got purpose.

The person I interviewed yesterday was a personal acquaintance of a high-ranking tech exec, someone who is supposed to have some dirt on them and the whole company, which I'm hoping will be the stick to drop this whole game of kerplunk into place. But over dinner she was dodgy, dare I say paranoid, still not wanting to spill her guts. Okay, I can play the game. I know better than to pressure a source. I wanted to make her feel at ease, like she was with a friend. I agreed not to talk about it for the rest of the night. Instead we went to a bar and went dancing. (This job has perks sometimes.)

The source and I parted ways a little after midnight as I walked her back to her hotel. When I got to the Inn, I spent a little bit more time chuckling over some of the stuff that's been posted on this blog. Okay, if you want to do your little fiction game, I won't spoil the fun, there's something so charming about co-opting a half-assed customer service program like this into something insane and elaborate like that. It's fun to watch people come together to make it feel real. I'm only posting here because it helps me blow off steam.

That said... I looked around my room and I did see a suitcase under the bed that does not belong to me. This is where I draw the line. Fun is fun but...

-Tom N. (seriously)