I keep forgetting to blog about this:  I'm a finalist again in this year's Doreen Fernandez Food Writing Competition.  They announce the winners some time in November. They aren't sure of the exact date yet.  In the meantime, I get to fret over whether I will win or not.

There's that word again.  Win.  How many times have I heard making it to the finals is already "winning?"  Last year, I made it to the finals and was runner up.  That was winning, too.  But please permit me to set aside emotional intelligence for a few moments and say it would be nice to really win for a change.  Not runner up. Not various shades of gray of winning.  Not being among the finalists.  But actually, unqualifiedly winning. 

Runner up is akin to being the bridesmaid but not the bride.  At the end of the day, you're still not the one married, right? 

Don't get me wrong.  I bear no ill will towards winners.  I don't think they're undeserving.  I do not begrudge them their victories.  Indeed, I am happy for them.  I hope it's ok, though, for me to want a few victories of my own. Does wanting to win or being disappointed at runner up make me a sore loser?  I hope not.  I've said before that I'm not a competitive person.  I normally shy away from competition.  It takes a lot courage for me to toss my hat into the ring, to take a risk.  Having done so, though, I do want--though not expect--to win.  I don't think anyone joins a contest wanting to lose.

If this year's competition is like last year's, they will invite all the finalists to a get-together and after meals and ceremony announce the winner.  It's a nervewracking experience.  Last year, I thought I would throw up.  This year, I'm not sure what the programme will be but I'll write all about it when it happens.