The Universe Tour -> Sylvia Dixon

Sylvia Dixon

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Sylvia Dixon	Posted: Jul 22 2008, 02:28 AM quote .
The Boston Globe Group: Reporter Admin Posts: 8 Member No.: 4 Joined: 21-July 08	sylvia~~maureen~~dixon name: Sylvia Maureen Dixon nickname(s): Silvie, Vivi age: twenty six date of birth: 23 May 1941 gender: female band/occupation: Reporter for the Boston Globe instrument(s): n/a *Images of broken light* hair: dark brown eyes: grey figure: slim height: 5'5" weight: 125 lbs. face claim: Zooey Deschanel *Dance before me* likes: journalism music meeting new people mysteries fashion politics travel excitement coffee new things parties chocolate reading romance art roller coasters wittiness philosophy conversation ethnic food the Beatles dislikes: prejudice tuna fish bad coffee her boss superficial people embarrassment hospitals needles anything lime flavored cockiness uncooperative interviewees habits: carries a reporter's notebook around with her practically everywhere tapping her fingers on tables, bars, etc. when she's nervous chewing on straws quirks: being treated differently because she's female not being taken seriously being hit on by drunk men at bars and clubs strengths:at least 5 weaknesses: stubborn her outspokenness can get her into trouble great eyes great conversation hobbies: writing traveling/exploring new places drawing over-all personality: Sylvia is, first and foremost, a writer and a journalist. She has an intense curiosity for life and this shows through in her writing. She's always learning about something new, be it a person, a hobby, or a news story and is always willing to try something once, though if it doesn't turn out well, she'll be rather reluctant to try it again. If she does like something, however, she'll become quite enthusiastic and passionate about it. Sylvia has very strong opinions about things, and has a stance on almost anything. This fierceness can get, and has gotten, her into a bit of trouble at times, but it makes for passionate editorial writing. She has strong emotions, but has learned to repress them enough so as to not make a big scene. Sylvia is a friendly girl (or woman, rather) and loves meeting new people, especially those with interesting stories behind themselves or who are different from herself. She isn't in your face outgoing, but is definitely more of an extrovert than an introvert. She loves going out and having a good time at parties and clubs, but at the same time, she can be just as happy curled up with a good book. A keen observer of human nature, she loves to just sit on a city bench or at an outdoor cafe and watch all the people going by and wonder who they are and what stories they have. If you're on her good side, Sylvia is sweet, caring, and loyal. She's always there for her friends, and if any of them need advice or help, she'll do whatever she can to help them out. Even if she doesn't know somebody very well, she'll try to help them, because as she sees it, they're still human beings and deserve to have as good of a life as possible. However, if you manage to get on her bad side, things are much different. Sylvia holds grudges for a long time, and she puts the same energy and passion into disliking people that she does into liking them. She'll behave coldly to the object of her wrath and will fit snippy comments subtly into her conversation. *A million eyes* family: William Dixon; father; 50; grocery store owner Agnes Dixon; mother; 48; housewife Susan Dixon; sister; 21; college student Gertrude Dixon; grandmother; 67; unemployed (lives with Sylvia's aunt and uncle) over-all history: Sylvia was born on June 23, 1941 in a suburb of Chicago, Illinois. The family was not rich by any means, but they had just barely enough money to get by. War had already broken out in Europe, and six months later Japanese planes would bomb Pearl Harbor, thus forcing the United States into the fight. When Sylvia was only a year old, her father was drafted into the army, and her mother was forced to raise her all on her own, while at the same time working at a bomber plant. Fortunately, Sylvia was an easy, complacent baby, and did not prove to be too much of a struggle. Her grandmother would watch her during the day, while her mother was at work. Though quite young, Sylvia formed an attachment to her grandmother that she still has today. It was from her grandmother that she learned to read and write simple sentences at the age of three. In 1945, her father returned home. Her mother gave up her job at the bomber plant, glad to finally be able to spend more time with her family; her father, however, did not fully return to his; he bought the grocery store that he used to be a manager at. He could earn more money and have more freedom this way, but at the same time, it was a much more risky business. In 1946, two major things happened: Agnes gave birth to a second baby girl (named Susan), and Sylvia entered school. Sylvia made many friends and did well in school, though she tended to daydream about being in some far off place like France or Africa during the math and science lessons. They weren't particularly hard subjects for her, but they just seemed too impersonal and abstract. She loved English class though, and did particularly well on writing assignments and reports. As she got older, Sylvia's gift for telling stories became more and more apparent. She loved to write, though she focussed more on telling true stories that she had heard about than on creating her own. In sixth grade, her first year of middle school, she joined the staff of the school newspaper. It took a while for her to fit in, but she loved writing for it and eventually worked her way up to writing the main features by eighth grade. In that same year, the school newspaper started a column for music reviews, with Sylvia as the main writer. She'd write up new records by artists such as Elvis Presley, Little Richard, and other popular stars of the time. This was a little different than what she was used to, but music was more and more becoming part of the current culture. In high school, when she needed a job, Sylvia got a job at the local paper. She didn't actually get to write anything, but it was a prime opportunity to see what it was like to work for an actual newspaper, and she learned a lot. Back at school, she was continuing to excel in her English classes and loved Geography. As she was just a freshman, she couldn't get as good as a position on the school newspaper, but she managed to write some editorials involving politics and international affairs. They weren't particularly well read, but Sylvia enjoyed talking about such issues and began to learn the power that her words could have. If she wanted to, if she really tried, she could change the world. To a fourteen year old, this thought was intoxicating. She threw herself even further into journalism and began to carry a notebook around with her to write down any ideas she had. College seemed to speed by for Sylvia, a haze of writing, people, parties, and studying. The fifties ended, the sixties began, and Sylvia wrote. Wherever, whenever, about whatever and whomever. Her articles began to earn prizes and a few were even published in a local newspaper. After college, she managed to get her first job writing about pop music and occasional editorials at the Boston Globe, who had noticed a series of articles she had written about the Cuban missile crisis in the fall of '62. It was here that she first was assigned to cover a new, British band: the Beatles. Their first record wasn't very popular in the United States, but evidently they were quite a phenomenon in Britain. Hopeful, but a bit skeptical, she went out and purchased their record at a local shop. She was shocked by how good it was and spent the rest of the afternoon listening to the record and writing up the article from the information that she had gathered. As they became more popular, she continued to write about them, though another reporter was sent to New York to report on their first US visit, as Sylvia evidently was not "impartial" enough, because she was a woman. She was upset about that, but eventually got over it, and when the Beatles performed in Boston later that year she managed to get the story. At the same time, the fighting in Vietnam was escalating and becoming major news. Though she was not the official foreign correspondent for the Globe, she wrote an article that was highly critical of the war. In the early spring of 1967, Sylvia got the news that she'd be covering the Universe Tour. She was overjoyed, though she knew it would be a tricky job, considering all of the controversy that could, and almost undoubtedly would, come up. She'd have to write interesting, exciting articles with new information if she wanted to keep the job, yet they couldn't be too controversial, or else she'd be violating her own principles of integrity. *It calls me on* role play sample: A laugh escaped Eden's lips, and the expression spread across her face, her nose scrunching up and the corners of her eyes crinkling. Trust Maximus to enjoy getting lost! Her own adventures she would term something more like unplanned exploration, but not full out getting lost. She had had some good times though, and she missed them. There were plenty of places to explore in Crawley, but so far, almost all of her time had been taken up by working or just the simple task of settling in. Sometime soon though, a weekend when she didn't have much work to do, she would go out and spend an entire day investigating Crawley, sticking her head in all the little cracks and corners that she could. She would surely come out of it with some new discovery to make her happy, and it would be nice to relax and forget everything complicated or unpleasant in her life. There was this one little bookstore she had discovered just a few weeks before moving to Crawley. She had gone to check out a vintage clothes shop, and although her browsing there had proved fruitless, she managed to spot the bookstore tucked away in the basement of a building across the street. It was not the cleanest or most organized place by any stretch of the imagination, but if you did not mind dust, walls that were beginning to peel, and a somewhat musty smell (and Eden did not--well, the except for the smell, but she put up with that for the sake of the books), there was a wide variety of books and a few comfy, albeit slightly saggy, armchairs in the back where you could curl up and read. Unfortunately, she had only been able to visit a few times before the move, but it stuck in her mind, and if she ever had the opportunity to return to Oxford (and hopefully she would), she would try her utmost to fit a visit to the bookstore. Looking over at Maximus, her mind couldn't help but jump to what he would think if she ever took him there...Wait, if she ever took him there? Her mind was getting ahead of herself; she should be concerned with the present, not some imaginary, improbable future. But how she wanted that imaginary, improbable future! As their conversation went on, Eden was finding herself caught up in what she hoped for instead of focusing on the more reasonable option of this being just a friendly drink between colleagues that would continue into an amicable but unremarkable future. She wondered what was running through Maximus' head at the moment, whether he could be thinking of her at all in the way that she was thinking of him. It was doubtful--he would probably be interested in someone closer to his own age, a woman with better looks and greater wit and cleverness than her--but she let herself entertain the possibility for a moment, basking in it. Eden tried to have a realistic and balanced view of life, but that did not always fit well with the idealistic dreamer in her, and sometimes, like now, her thoughts would carry her away from her focus. There was not much harm in letting her mind get away from her when she was lying in bed at night or sitting on her sofa after dinner, reading or watching a bit of television, but this was not one of those situations--not even close. The object of her thoughts was sitting right next to her, and she had to act like everything was fine and normal, though she didn't seem to be doing too well at it at the moment. Eden kept her eyes on Maximus, trying to gauge his reaction to what she had just said. She noticed that he was looking down at his drink, but that did not tell her much, for any number of things could have elicited such a response. So much hung in the balance. So much that could be determined by just a few simple words. The situation scared her, to put it lightly. No matter how this turned out, things would be different between them. All she could do was hope for a positive difference, or at least a tolerable one, though with the way her emotions seemed to be going she didn't know if any difference other than a positive one could be tolerable. But she would have to tolerate whatever came out of this conversation, for Eden was not about to suddenly up and quit her job and move away because of a single conversation one day after work. Ahh! It was all so complicated, and she had no idea what to think. Maximus was right there, only a foot or two away. If she wanted to--rather, if she chose to, for wanting to and actually doing so were two entirely different matters--she could reach out and touch him, lean into him. When he was done speaking, Eden smiled cautiously, just a small smile, but her eyes lit up brightly. "Thank you, but I beg to differ; I'm the one who pales in comparison" she ventured, pausing and biting her lower lip and as she tried to figure out what to say next. "I'm glad you invited me here. You're great to talk to," she continued, then drew in a sharp breath when she realized how her words could be taken. Her next words came is sharp, rushed bursts. "That's not the only thing I like about you though...er...I just mean that..." Her eyes wandered desperately around as her mind tried to find a way out of all the awkwardness, but in the end they could not help but return to Maximus, and she bit her lip again, hoping as hard as she could that things would somehow resolve themselves. instruction from rules: Er, there aren't any rules yet. anything else? Not that I can think of. *They tumble blindly* your name: Natalie experience: Just under three years where did you find the site? RPG-Directory and I helped start the site. favourite band? The Beatles
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