My Shitty Lexington Weekend

Although I still consider myself new to the news writing world, I was able to attend the Kentucky Press Association awards ceremony in Lexington this weekend. The awarding takes place in January. Newspapers submitted material for judging in the range from December2006 through November 2007 for this year's awards, so being as how I started in late November, I made no contribution in any way, shape or form to my paper for the 2008 awards. Still, since I'm part of the paper now, I still got to go and stay up there for free and drink for free at the open bar.

I will have to honestly say the weekend rated an easy 8.5 on my Oh-Damn-O-Meter.

They offer classes for journalists prior to the awards ceremony taking place. Mine was scheduled for 1:45 on Friday. Now I left the office at 12:15 to make the 90 mile trip. Pushing it a little, huh? However, since my bosses were paying for the course, I felt obligated to make it there and make it on time.

About the time I hit Richmond, KY, I was going about 95 miles an hour. That's when I got tagged. I admitted guilt. As soon as the lights went on, I proceeded to begin my shameful voyage to the side of the road. This Kentucky State Police trooper must've been in a forgiving mood, as he only charged me with 10 miles over the 70 mile per hour speed limit. Still, my fine was a whopping $158.

I just knew hilarity was about ensue for the weekend.

Later on in the evening, after about six beers and a couple of Long Island Iced Teas (I'd never had one and they didn't have the stuff to make White Russians) the awards ceremony was set to commence. My publisher (the head honcho at the paper) had requested I get him a red wine. He said the new guy always serves on wine duty. Prior to the ceremony beginning, I was handing him his wine. He then says "Oh shit." Unbeknownst to me, my Long Island beverage was pouring silently out of my glass and onto my boss's leg. That's right, I was spilling booze all over my boss. So much for kissing ass.

Well, the paper did win an award.

Afterwards, I discovered I lost my phone. It's yet to be recovered.





This fucking trip is costing me a fortune.

I was assigned to room with one of the sports writers at the paper. Native Kentuckian. Well, after me and him barreled through three cases of beer, he thought it'd be a good idea to go hit on girls downstairs and brag about the award. What could I do? He had the room key.

Sports guy takes the award (I have no idea why he was left in charge of it) and starts bragging about how the paper is the best to random journalists drinking at the bar downstairs. He was showing off the award like it was a championship belt purchased after getting a 4.0 GPA in graduate school. He starting yelling at some middle-aged guy in a pink fuzzy hat. He got up in this guy's mug sorta like one of those pro wrestling style staredowns. It was the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. Get this...sports guy was being serious. Hotel security had to intervene and step between them. Enough "fucks" flew in that conversation to make Tony Montana blush. That's just great, because my editor had informed me earlier I was in charge of looking after the sports guy. Oh, and later on we had the hotel staff called up to our room twice because the dude was so drunk and loud. A babysitter I am not.

The worst part is the award the paper won was first in its class for the state. So, after a $160 speeding ticket, phone replacement costs and plenty of embarrassment, the thing this whole trip could end up costing me the most is my job. See, if they'd have won second or third, I'd have been fine. But first, that's where the problem comes in. I don't think I'm that good at my job. If I'm still around for the next press awards ceremony, and the paper gets anything less than first, fingers are going to start pointing. They're going to point in the direction of the new guy who didn't contribute to last year's win. The new guy will be viewed as a hindrance of continued award success.

I can't handle the pressure....