The Nita

So I ran straight into my biggest hurdle at Saturday's stage combat class.

Nita's fear of falling.

Because, much like any art that involves you eventually falling down, the first thing you have to learn is how to do so safely.

And we started out working with the 8" thick mat, so it was easier to do the forward rolls & kips and the like, because dude - it's like falling on a mattress. You have to *work* to hurt yourself.

And we know I'm lazy.

Then we moved to the 2" thick mat, for the sit falls. And the from the sit fall to a backwards roll out. Then doing a forward roll to standing, do a sit fall and then back roll back to your original position.

Um.

One - I'm OLD - at least I'm at least 20 years older than my classmates. Hell, I'm older than the instructor by half a decade. And if you want to see what blind frustration with my own body looks like, watch and laugh at me trying to compete on something as purely physical as rolling around on a 2" thick piece of foam with people for whom high school is a recent memory or the man who's been doing this for most of the last 20 years.

I almost started crying, I was so frustrated.

I spent much of the next 24 hours thinking about why I was letting it get to me.

1) I knew I was wound tighter than normal because we were doing something that involved deliberately falling forward over and over again - Nita fights off stupid irrational fears.

2) I have a naturally competitive nature. That I'm competing against people who are still in their prime doesn't stop that nature.

3) My takeaway lesson from 24 hours of thinking? I need to get over my own ego. I am not a kid any more. It will take longer for me to get good at rolling. The kids will get better at it fast than me. Let's see - one is *just* entering university, and has been doing stage combat for at least as long as I've known her, so call it going on 3 years now. The other has done multiple martial arts (back to that "the first thing you learn is how to fall down safely" thing), so he's always got a huge head start.

"Get over my own ego"

Oy. I'm rarely good at that. I can do it, but it's not going to be pretty for a while while I toss myself at the ground over and over and over trying to get better where no one can see me cry in frustration. Cause the only way I'm going to get better is to practice.

Cause Carnagie Hall isn't going anywhere, and the only way I'm getting there is practice....

I just got the grades back on the second essay.

10 out of 10.

That's twice.

Either this lady is amazingly easy to impress, or I understood what people were telling me about writing essays.

Thanks everyone.

I still don't like writing essays.

I really don't like profs who take nearly 4 days to reply to a request to confirm that it *is* an essay (when the assignment doesn't specify and I can make an arguement that she's looking for a flow chart).

Nor do I have a word count.

*headdesk*

And it's due Saturday evening.

Well, here goes.

YES!!!!!

Here's the relevant line from my grades:

Marketing Research Process (Out of 10.00) 10.00

YES!

The prof's response to the style question: "I do not have a style preference, rather would like a clear and concise focus and message to the assignment. Hope that helps, PROF"

Uh, okay. In other words, make it up, Nita.

[beats head against desk]

My editors are going to love this...

Even though I have a cooperative boy.

Remembering that the home machine has Word 97 (incompatible with the Word 2007 document I have!) would have been useful, as Word 2007 can save in the earlier format.

*headdesk*

fine, I apply amnesiac_emu's and cielf's suggestions tomorrow (I've done the others so far, except for the "go away and rethink how to word this bit entirely" sections - gratefully, not many of those.

And just to think - I have another one of these (blessedly, the last for a while) due in 2 weeks.

I've started getting the recommended edits back.

It's a lot of red ink.

Now, to be honest, I was expecting that. I did say "I suck at writing essays."

My first mewlish response though was "Did it really suck that badly?"

Then I stopped and thought again.

1) As always - I'm taking this course for my own benefit - my job here doing marketing does not depend on me passing this course. The only bad thing that happens if I fail the course is Boss refuses to pay for more classes. That's it.

2) My friends love me enough to let me have it - to give me the full use of their skills and knowledge to make myself look like less of a tard to the prof. That is no bad thing. That my ego is smarting a little is just because I'm used to having my arse firmly planted in my comfort zone. Now I'm out of it, and have the bright, shiny bum to prove it.

Tonight, I apply edits. Not all of them will make it - it is my essay, and there are places I'm willing to take the hit for the point I made the way I made it.

I'm really blessed. Thank you, folks. Me and the Ego That Ate New York really appreciate this.

Essay's written. Tomorrow, I confirm formatting requirements, how to actually write up references & footnotes, and edit for drug induced idiocy. I also put it up for crucifiction by writers more capable than I.

My husband rocks my world - when I was 4 paragraphs in (with an outline, no less - lot of good that damned thing did me!), and in tears of frustration, he walked me out of the "beat Nita-fest" and reminded me that my voice recorder could help with the "Nita can ramble out in verbal words the concepts she wants to cover" by recording it and then letting me edit myself into better written words.

Suck it up. You wanted to take this class. Yes, it's an essay. It's 5 pages of commentary linking the article you selected and the text. It's not bloody rocket science. Stop having panic attacks, stop dithering, stop using LJ as a time waster to excuse the fact that you're not working on the essay that's due Saturday.

You give this advice to everyone else. Time to pucker up, Princess.

From my instructor in the final assignment:

However, rule number 1 is that brevity is a virtue and rule number 2 is that brevity is a virtue.

Damn. So he's met my friends.