I know I complain often enough about some of my duties as a staff writer for The Evening Sun. More often than not, those gripes are about the sheer number of school board and other meetings I am committed to attending. But I’m not going to lie, my job has a few perks.

One of them is that, on occasion, we’re asked to be a special guest at certain events. I’m not sure why exactly some people seem to see my colleagues and I as having some kind of pseudo-celebrity status, but it feeds our needy little egos, so you don’t hear us complaining. Much, anyway.

Sure, we know they just want to ensure excellent coverage of their event, fervently hoping we’ll also blog or write our respective columns about it. We oblige them, of course, because we’re always willing to give our all for a good cause.

And we thoroughly enjoy the “love” we receive in return. (See “needy little ego” comment above.) Yes, flattery will get you everywhere.

As will flowers, chocolate and jewelry ... But I digress.

Now, it’s a well known fact that I’m a sucker for baked goods. Particularly cupcakes. Apparently my poetic waxings on this topic drew the attention of the Oxford Community Youth Center’s board of directors.