I’m a Rotten Listener–and the Potty

My spiritual life as of late has more to do with keeping myself grounded than changing anyone else’s mind. My prayer for today: “God, please help me be a better listener.”

I really hurt someone important to me yesterday. It was what I didn’t do. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I did not give this precious one my full ear. Yes, I have a lot on my mind. But yes, the people in my life deserve my attention. I know it can hurt to be ignored. In our distracted society, where so many things vie for our attention, listening is the most precious gift you can give another human being. Even those of you taking time to read this blog–hey, that’s a gift too, and thank you.

Please, forgive me.

In happier news: my older son peed on the “toi-yet” for the first time today. If you can’t understand why that’s such a big deal, you don’t have kids yet.

Where have I been? And Sung.

They say life is what happens when you’re making plans….

In an ideal world, I could blog here and blog at Ningin. But for the time being, it has not worked out that way. Not long after I launched this blog, I was asked to contribute to Ningin, the Asian media exchange website. I’ve been busy, first covering the 72 Hour Shootout (where teams of Asian and non-Asian filmmakers make a short film in, yes, you guessed it, 72 hours) and posting blogs on really great Asian movies and media.

Here’s a link if you want to check it out:

http://ningin.com/elenastevenson

The rest of the summer has been hot, but enjoyable. I’m getting sweaty taking the kids to the playground. My mental sweat is freelance work and continuing to hone my latest screenplay. I start a weekend job soon. Can I just have more hours in the day, please?

It seems no matter how busy I am, I take time out to keep up with the highjinks of Adolescentus Eternus–my favorite actor, Sung Kang. For the unenlightened, his films include “The Motel,” “The Fast and the Furious 3:Tokyo Drift,” “Better Luck Tomorrow,” and “Finishing the Game.” If you’re a fan, or just like hilarious crazy stories from junior high, check this out:

http://www.alivenotdead.com/mrkangsta

You don’t have to join alivenotdead to read the blog. His stuff is just a raw, clean, cheesy ball of fun. He also has a blog at http://sungkang.com, but it’s more about issues and things he found on YouTube.

But that’s all for now. I get ideas for more blogs, but until there are more hours in the day, they’re parked.

House Keeping, Shining with Pride

I have a split personality in terms of keeping house. I like a clean house, but the effort to get it clean just seems like too much trouble. I felt that way before becoming a mom, but it’s even more so now. Remember, both of my kids are in diapers, and I work from a home office. My fellow writer/homemaker Erma Bombeck (God rest her soul) joked that Good Housekeeping revoked her subscription. I tell people: I don’t get the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval. Oh well. Some people clean for five hours a day, every day, just to have a perfectly organized showplace of a house. Please. Do you have nothing better to do?

But this week, I am drawing a little halo around my head. Hubby and I shampooed the carpets for the first time in I-don’t-know-how-long. And it has made such a difference in how the house looks and feels. Of course, we had to rent the professional machine from Home Depot. Jeremy used to run a Home Depot Tool Rental, so going in to that department has a familiar feel, and I can always banter with the guys behind the desk.

My stream of consciousness has taken me on a rabbit trail. Have you ever heard a second-hand happening that was so funny, you felt like you were there, and kept laughing about it for a long time afterward? Well, when Jeremy worked at Home Depot, he had a guy named Denny working for him. Nice guy, married, but liked to flirt. One Friday night, Denny reportedly told all the guys, “It’s Frrrrriiiie-day night, fellas. Go out and get-cha some!” The image of that particular guy saying that in such a goofy voice just really got me going. Again, you could say, “You had to be there,” but I wasn’t even there! I guess this is testament to the power of my imagination. 

Absentee…and it’s all Ningin’s fault!

Hey, friends,

I just became a regular blogger with ningin.com, a new website for Asian media. Anything, anyone Asian or of Asian descent, anywhere in the world, is highlighted on Ningin, with a focus on the entertainment industry. And here I am, a Caucasian female, writing for it. I got to know the people in charge of Ningin through the film world, and they are very cool. They don’t care what your background is. What matters is all colors working toward fair treatment of all people, particularly in the film industry.

I will still be blogging over here as well, but subjects that fall within the scope of Ningin will be over there–probably about an entry a week. The latest thing is the 72 Hour Shootout, where teams have just that many hours to create a short film. I’m interviewing some of these up-and-coming filmmakers. Maybe next year I’ll be in the Shootout–this year, I’ll be at my college class reunion and visiting family.

Here’s my blogpage over there:

http://ningin.com/elenastevenson

Hope you get a chance to check it out.

Contributing at Ningin/”Happening” Review

Friends, I am now blogging at www.ningin.com, a new website for Asian media. Very cool. Go over and read my thoughts on M. Night Shyamalan’s latest movie, “The Happening.”

A Big Guy, Tim Russert

 

As most of you have heard, Tim Russert has died. He was a great journalist, and from what I’ve heard, a great human being. He knew how to ask tough questions, yet never developed that jerk persona that gives journalists a bad name. Here’s what speaks the most to me—the respect he paid his dad, a World War II vet and sanitation worker. My own dad, a construction worker, passed on his interest in politics to me, and here I am today, pursuing a career in journalism and film.

 

When it came time for Tim to write a book, he could have covered the powerful people he rubbed shoulders with. Instead, he wrote on his own blue-collar dad, and the things he learned from him—then wrote another book that allowed others to tell about their fathers. This speaks to respect for all people, irrespective of background. We can all learn something from that.

 

Tim, you’re in a better place now, but we remember your contribution. Kudos to you. And Happy Father’s Day, everyone.

Magic Words that Sell

The laptop, the phone, and the magic words in my head…these are the tools of my trade. I make my income from freelance writing, and for the last couple of months, it’s been copywriting in addition to screenplays and articles. Copywriting is not the most prestigious gig in writing. Most of the time, your name doesn’t appear on your work. But it does stretch you creatively, and it’s a skill in demand. You have to describe a business to subtly sell it, appealing to the reader’s reason. “Of course, this is the best French restaurant in town. I must go. I am under the power of this awesome description….”

I’ve met some interesting people, both on the phone and in person. Most of the time, these small-business operators believe in what they’re doing; that in turn makes it easier for me to sell their product. My writing’s a business enterprise, even though I don’t have a storefront. So in a way, I’m one of them. I really enjoy meeting heads of larger businesses that have retained the vision and personal touch of a small business. 

You could call a small business the American dream, but I know that people are dreaming it all over the world. By doing their ads, I’m helping them achieve their vision. And like everything else I’m doing, this work is contributing to my own growth as an artist in some small way.

The First Church?

In Rihab, Jordan, archaeologists have uncovered what they believe is the first church. As in, 33 A.D.–where people who actually knew Jesus Christ hung out. That’s just mind-blowing. It really makes me want to visit for myself. What I would give to stand where history took place.

Here’s a link to the full story:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20080610/ts_afp/jordanreligionchristianarchaeology

An Amazing Story

If you’re anything like me, you love an amazing story…this one brought tears to my eyes.  You can read the whole thing in the March 2007 issue of REAL SIMPLE.  A year and a half later, it still resonates with me.

The woman who wrote this story was a marine biologist, not a professional writer, and about the same age as me.  She’d always been very independent until a cataclysmic event forced her to accept help.  While traveling in Thailand, her fiancee was stung by a jellyfish and died, right there on the beach.  There she was, alone, in shock. Many offered sympathy, but two Israeli women refused to leave her side.  They sat with her as she cried, waited at the morgue, talked to an irritable police detective.  They even changed the date of their plane tickets so they could stay with her. 

 You might think, “Oh, they were kind grandmotherly types, and they empathized because they’d lost partners too.”  They were 21 years old.   I could hardly believe it.  Now, this really made me think. These college-age girls gave up their vacation to care about the tragedy of a total stranger.  A few years ago, “What Would Jesus Do?” became ubiquitous in America, and we all got sick of hearing the words without action. But if this isn’t what Jesus would do, I don’t know what is.  Wow.  It makes me think twice about where my heart is when it comes to the needs of others.  Yes, our culture says, “Me first.”  But we still have to choose to reach out to another human being.  Will I? Will you?  It makes me think of the verse from Esther, where Uncle Mordechai tells the young woman, “Who knows but that you were born for such a time as this?”

Nugget War

A Greatest Hit from MySpace….March 12, 2007

THIS is the fun part.

 

My son arrived eight days late. To have your baby arrive after his due date is a fate I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I did not get my “get out of jail free” card….I did the full Monty and then some. The hospital staff would not consider inducing me ’till a week past my due date. But what does this have to do with the fun part?

 

 

In my frustration, I used to talk to the little person in my stomach, saying, “Come out! It’s more fun on the outside, kid!” Then he was born, and he had colic. And he would scream while I struggled with his diaper. And I would say, “Honey, this is not the fun part, is it?  I know, Mommy promised it would be fun out here. I’m sorry.”

 

 

Well, we’ve finally reached the fun part.

 

 

My son is fourteen months old now, and he’s getting more fun all the time. Throwing balls, babbling, crawling at lightning speed—and now walking, hands up like Boris Karloff. Even the Nugget War was fun—in a manner of speaking.

 

 

I’d had the flu all week, and knew I’d have no energy to cook after delivering magazines all day on Thursday. So I picked my son up from the sitter and went straight to the drive-thru. Back home, he picked up a chicken nugget from the coffee table and took a bite, like he has so many other times. I turned my attention to my sandwich, confident he could take care of his own hunger. I looked up, and saw what I can only call a “Charlie Brown”—chicken nugget stuffed whole, lengthwise, in his mouth. 

 

“Honey, that’s too much.” I poked the still-visible nugget with my finger.  My son giggled. I poked a little harder, trying to dislodge the nugget. He started to protest. I feared he’d try to swallow and lodge the nugget in his throat. I put my finger in at the side, and he bit down. “AA-OW!” he cried louder. He was frightened by the nugget’s larger-than-life presence, but held onto it doggedly. Did he think it was the last piece of food on earth? I started chipping at the nugget with my finger, choking paranoia mounting. Finally I got the whole mangled nugget out, but the child was still howling. Took me five minutes to get him calmed down. I ate my sandwich with one hand while I cut up the remaining nuggets with a butter knife. He watched TV solemnly, munching french fries one by one.

 

 

My determined, stubborn, hungry little person. What a fuss over a nugget. How quickly forgotten and forgiven.  “Someday you’ll be big, and that will be a fun part, too. But I’ll always remember when you were small.”