Thinking of Others

‎"It's that wonderful old-fashioned idea that others come first and you come second. This was the whole ethic by which I was brought up. Others matter more than you do, so 'don't fuss, dear; get on with it.'" -Audrey Hepburn

I came upon this quote by chance the other day, and, feeling inspired, I decided to post it as a status on Facebook.  I got several different comments as a result.  Some agreeing, some not.  I must say, I agree with both.  
How, you ask?  
Well, if you are curious, I was also raised in such a way.  We were taught that any job worth doing was worth doing well.  There are times when you do need to suck it up and continue on, to make the best of every situation and to work and do my part.
But I was also taught to take care of myself.  It was a lesson that continued on into adulthood and into my own years of motherhood.  As I stressed and fussed over feeding and taking care of a baby.  My own mother pointed out that as I was the baby's only source of nourishment, if I had nothing to give, then the baby would go without.  And then again when I felt stressed to my last nerve over an incessantly crying baby, my mother's wonderful words of wisdom, "You are no good to that baby if you are exhausted and strung out."  She then encouraged me to put him down and take a walk.  I took that advice, and upon returning from my walk I was able to calmly assess and comfort my child in a way I couldn't have before.
You see, a lot of this life IS about helping others.  I defy most people who would disagree with me.  Most occupations involve interactions with other people, whether you are a mother, teacher, repairman, telemarketer, businessman/woman etc., you find yourself in contact with others.  Why not look to make their days better?  To speak a little kinder on the  phone or smile a little wider upon meeting?  
And on top of that, when we see our fellows struggling, what is so wrong about offering that helping hand to ease someone else's burdens?  The world would be quite a different place if we all had that in our minds.  
And then there is that fine line between helping others and hindering yourself.  Where is it?  When does offering a helping hand take too much away from you?  From your family?  How can you continue to offer of yourself when the storehouse has been depleted to almost nothing?  
There is a wise scripture, in essence saying to give of yourself, but not to "run faster than you have strength."  The same idea was given on Facebook of "putting the oxygen mask on yourself," before helping others with theirs.  Both are valid points.

So what is my conclusion?  DO think of others before yourself, but recognize when it is time to step back and replenish.  

Writing

With my midterm writing assignment looming up quickly, I am starting to panic just a bit.  I've begun and scratched at least three or four different stories.  My biggest fear is that submitting an assignment to be read and criticized by my classroom, full of people who are kind enough, but certainly don't have the same belief in things that I do (happy endings, eternal marriages, loving Heavenly Father, and the like), I feel like the only thing I'll hear is that, "It wasn't believable.  Things never work out that way, happy endings don't exist." 
While I don't plan on writing a clear happy ending in (it's hard to have one without seeming corny in a short story), I do plan on not making it a sad one.  For example, I don't plan on writing a story from the point of view of a serial killer or a man holding a gun in his hand.  I don't really like describing blood lust and *ahem* OTHER kinds of lust in my stories, because I really don't like reading them.  I don't include cuss words, and I don't include other things I wouldn't want my kids to see and hear. 
So far we've read two stories from students in my class, and while two is far from the majority, I have a pretty good indication that I'm going to be quite unique in my non-cussing, killing, lusting kind of writing.  This should be interesting.
Another fear...being as emotional as I can be (and those who know me best are rolling their eyes right now as they remember a time when a simple word or phrase has reduced me to tears), I am scared to death that I'll cry the entire time they are critiquing me.  And that would basically be mortifying.  So I think I'll just sit by the door so I can make a more dignified entrance if I have to...

Happy Endings

Just another vent about writing class again.  We had a big long discussion today about why happy endings are bad, the teacher's main point being that they aren't "real".  I sat there and wondered what kind of life he had lived.  How can you not believe happy endings are real?  His point was, "That's just not how the world is.  Things just don't go they way you think they should."  He prefered the sad endings that most short stories have, as did the rest of the class.  I spoke up and blatantly told them that I prefered sunshine and rainbows at the end of the books I read.  It's not that I don't like the thought provoking endings that we have been reading, on the contrary I do enjoy them immensely, but would it be so terrible to have a story with a happy ending?  What is so unreal about it?  Even a sad ending, but one full of hope, would be nice once in a while. 
I left and thought about it all the way home.  My life has not all been sunshine and rainbows, I will concede to that, of course, but I believe I will have plenty of "happy endings" in my life, or perhaps they could be called beginnings.  I've already had at least three: I got the guy, graduated from college, and have two beautiful children. 
I've had some sad things happen as well: the sudden death of loved ones, ilnesses, car accidents, a miscarriage, lost job, etc, etc, etc... but those are not my endings.  I don't have sad endings, I have opportunities to grow and become better, reasons to change.
I think, just to spite him, my next story assignment will be filled with only happy things, just to prove a point.  Sand dunes and good night kisses come to mind.  ;)

Food

Food always seems to taste better the more time and effort you put into it.  You know the old phrase "Blood, sweat, and tears?"  I once had a roommate tell me she thought there was some credit in that.  Sometimes you can have a recipe that is the exact same as your mother's/grandmother's/friend's, and it never seems to turn out the same.  She used to say it was because you put a bit of yourself into the recipe and it added a specific flavor and texture to the food.  At the time I thought it was pretty gross, but now I'm thinking she has a point.  Oh, and I also think that cooking with love (you know, from grandma or mom), makes things taste better as well.  ;)
The same goes for boxed dinners/desserts.  It may look delicious on the box, but turns out disappointing in the long run.  I've made better dinners by just throwing stuff together and calling it a casserole than by using the boxed dinners that you get from the grocery store.  More filling and less fattening too.  We had a caramel apple boxed dessert last night, and I must say I'm rather sad at the outcome.  *sigh*  I suppose I'll have to use my google skills and find a REAL recipe for that kind of thing. 

Are you a student, or a professor?

Just a vent.  I enjoy my class, I really do.  But I've enjoyed the assignments more than I've actually enjoyed the class so far.  I get to practice my "craft" (or see if there is a craft there at all!), and learn about new techniques and strengthening exercises. 
But good grief!  My professor is a really nice guy and all, but his appearance is distracting.  From someone who got their Bachelor's from a religious university where even the students tried to dress professionally, it is hard for me to see my teacher, who looks like he may be younger than me, walk in with ratty clothes and converse shoes, and a messy beard. 
The classroom is set up in rows, which does not encourage conversation, which is what the professor mentioned that he wanted.  Only three or four people spoke up the whole time.  I would have liked to, but was hesitant to speak up in front of the whole class.  Perhaps it is the teacher in me criticizing, but I would have liked to have smaller groups for discussion.  My excitement for the homework assignments is still there, but the excitement for class is tapering.   Hopefully he will change it up a little bit in the future. 

Off to a Good Start, at least I think so!

I've done it!  My first writing assignment!  And since I am so proud of it I think I will post it for all to read.  Of course, I will be doing 2 one-to-two page assignments every week until October or so, and it is pretty much guaranteed that I won't like all of them, so I will only post the ones I like.  Here goes...

I sat and stared angrily ahead as my fingers drummed the table.  The lights above flickered and blinked as though trying to shake a finger at me.  I glared at them in a vain attempt to keep them still.
The door opened suddenly, causing me to jump.  An officer strolled in, looking a little too pleased with himself.  He sat in front of me and placed an item on the table.  The Bat.  I rolled my eyes and glared at him, waiting. 
He sat back and looked at me with an irritating smile.  Oh how good it would feel to put a fist in his face, maybe he'd even lose some teeth.
Silence.  Just the buzz from the flickering lights could be heard.  I licked my lips and glared at the officer again.  I knew what he was doing, and it wasn't going to work.  I'd seen enough TV shows to know they played tricks in here.
I leaned back in the chair, allowing my knee to bounce.  My one nervous gesture.  He wouldn't see it. 
The officer followed suit, leaning back and crossing his arms, that annoying smirk still on his face.  Once again I thought about wiping it off for him, but I resisted.  I wasn't going to let him get to me.  No way, no how.  I stilled my leg. 
The silence between us droned on and on.  It was deafening, and he just sat there, smirking as though he'd figured out the world. 
I shouldn't even be in here, this is ridiculous, I thought.  I looked at the bat.  It had a dent in it.  I narrowed my eyes and turned to glare at the cop again.  He just smiled bigger.  I averted my eyes.  No way was he getting to me.  I was a rock.  What was that line from that awful movie my mom liked to watch?  "Wild horses couldn't drag it from me!"  I rolled my eyes.  Great.  Now I was quoting from Anne of Green Gables.  I glared at the cop again.  He smiled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, shoulders haunched in a relaxed sort of way, as though he had all the time in the world to sit and stare at me. 
He cleared his throat.
I raised my eyebrows.  Ha!  I thought.  Easy game.  Is that all you got?  I win, I so win!
Then he spoke.
"So!  Get thirsty, did ya?"
"It's not my fault!"  I burst out.  "If they would keep the dumb machines working right, I would never have needed the bat!"

Textbooks

Finally, after waiting what seemed like an eternity, which was actually just a week and a half, my new textbooks have arrived!  Although I did stroke them lovingly as I took them out of their packages, I have  yet to open and really look at them.  Hm.  Seems as though in the last four years (and two children) I haven't changed much at all.  I still love to learn, and I still love to procrastinate.  Sometimes I even wonder how I managed to get my first degree. 
Despite the fact that I haven't opened my books yet to read them (on short fiction...taking a writing class, yay!)  I am soooooo super excited and I just can't wait to buy the school supplies so I can go and show up and put them neatly on my desk and show I am ready to go!  Of course, in a week I'll be rushing in at the last minute and randomly pulling papers out of this notebook and that, and probably hoping ever so hard that I am not called on because while I did do the homework I didn't do it well...
With all of that it would make you wonder why I love the classroom so much, why I wouldn't just take it online and get it over with, but there's something about being in the classroom setting that feels so great.  Perhaps it is my mind sighing in relief as I show it that yes, I really do use it for things other than potty training and meal planning and stain removing.  Ahhhh, yes, if only they had a class on that!