The Blind Daters

so, here is a part of a play that i've been working on. I call it The Blind Daters, and it's about, well, a couple who go on a series of blind dates with random people, at the same Italian restaurant, until hey eventually try one with each other. It almost works, they seem so perfect for each other, but something's not quite right, and the guy excuses himself and leaves. She then talks a bit with the waiter and they go off to an Irish pub together, anything NOT Italian, and the guy comes back on and gives a closing monologue to the audience.

So, here is the opening monologue and introduction by the waiter, and then a scene between the girl and one of her dates. I had a lot of fun writing this.


Joe: Hello and welcome to my little Italian restaurant. No, I don't own it, I'm, just the waiter here. My name's Joe, Joe Sharpiro.
You know, I've been working here for quite a while, and I think I've pretty much seen it all. I know all about love. It seems like they always go to an Italian restaurant for their first date, or their blind date, or whatever. What is it about Italian restaurants that makes everyone think of romance? I mean, i think Chinese food, or maybe even Mexican food is just as romantic, but that;s just me.
But, love is a funny thing. I've seen a lot of couples come in here, and I've seen a lot of couples leave. Usually they leave with the same person they came in with, but that's not always the caase. And sometimes those that come in together, leave all by themselves. It's sad, but it happens. And I'm not really sure why, that's something about love that I've never quite understood. Why is it that some people just click, right off the bat, and others don't? Is there such a thing as love at first sight, or is love a matter of how much effort one is willing to invest in a relationship? I dunno. I've seen some couples laugh and talk all evening, but the very next week, they're in here with someone completely different. And I've seen couples who barely say a word to each other come back again and again, always in silence.
I don't know, I'm no expert at love, but then, I've never claimed to be. I'm just a waiter at the little Italian restaurant down the street.


Act One, Scene (something)

Kate: Hi there, I'm Kate.
Guy: I'm Paul, pleased to meet you. (sits)
Kate: So...
Paul: So...
(Pause)
Kate: How was your day?
Paul: (At the same time) Do you come here often?
Kate: (laughing) I'm sorry, you go first.
Paul: (At the same time)(laughing) I'm sorry, you go.
(Pause)

Paul: (tentatively) So . . . (sees that Kate's not talking, and continues) Do you come here often?
Kate: Actually, yes. It's really a nice place, and not too far from home. The waiters are nice. And yourself?
Paul: I've nly been here once before. (Beat) Also on a blind date.
Kate: Really, how'd that go?
Paul: Um.. well, (pauses hesitantly, then smiles as if remembering something fondly) It was great. The girls was beautiful, the food was delicious, the evening was wonderful . . . I couldn't have planned it better . . . until . . . (trails off)
Kate: Until what?
Paul: Until . . . well, you don't want to hear about my failed date. Something happened that I should've foreseen, should've done something about, should've said something, but . . .
Kate: But . . .
Paul: But I remained silent and she walked away. (Beat) Anyway, enough about me and my shortcomings. What about you? Wait, I mean, I didn't mean to talk about your shortcomings, i just meant . . .
Kate: It's okay, I knew what you meant. You want me to talk about me for a while, so you can sit there and remember the girl you let get away.
Paul: I didn't meant it . . .
Kate: Don't worry about it. I know that look on your face and what it means. You're not the first blind date I've been on either, and definitely not the first one I've had at this place. You see, i haven't found that amazing someone yet, the someone who makes you smile when you only think about remembering them. I guess I'm still waiting.
And I know that you and I would probably have a great time tonight, laugh a bit, heck, you may even get a second date out of me if you really tried, but I also know that the entire time you'll be thinking about her. Secretly, silently comparing me to her, and you've idealized her so much by now that I'm not sure even she could live up to the expectations.
But don't worry, I don't mind. If there's someone you care about that much, you've got to at least try to get a second chance, Go. Have fun, And Paul, . . .
Paul: Yeah?
Kate: Good luck.
Paul: Thanks, and . . . Thank you, for everything. (stands, shakes her hand, and exits)

A New Novel Idea

It seems that all of the epic stories begin the same way: a young, inconsequential Someone finds an important Something and is swept away on a whirlwind Quest, usually to vanquish some Evil or other. I wish that I could say that my story is different, but it is not. I was born, so they tell me, in the seventh year of the reign of King Karlharrd, though I don’t remember anything of my life before the Library. I am a Scholar, a monk charged with the reading, writing, and remembering of our sacred history. It is a job that I enjoy, until the day that I found out the truth behind the Evil that exists in our day.

And that's the intro. More to come, hopefully, as I write it.

"Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs...."

"What's wrong with that, I'd like to know, 'cause here I go again!" -Silly Love Songs, by Paul McCartney


I can still hear you singing when I close my eyes at night,
The songs you know we used to love,
I can't help but be thinking, when I sit alone all night,
That you were like an angel from above.

You came into my life that night, I thought it was a dream,
But you were real, and really quite a girl,
I can't believe that you weren't right, love wasn't what it seemed,
And in the end, I lost my only Pearl.

To dream of my Dulcinea, to tame my Kate, the shrew,
To carry Corie up five flights of stairs, to simply say "I love you"
I fear the time for that is past, our happy ending long overdue,
While we were busy learning our lines, we both missed our cue.

Wrong turns, flat tire, and a valley of Goblins

Ted, Dantzel, her sister Hannah, and I decided to go camping this weekend. Ted had found a state park some 3 hours south of Provo called Goblin Valley, and we decided it was worth a visit. And that is where the adventure begins. “It is a dangerous business walking out your front door” they say, and they are right. We actually left much later than we had originally planned, and ended up driving around on back roads at around midnight, in the total dark, and missing the turnoff to the campground. Instead we drove around for hours on dirt roads that twisted and wound around on themselves, with sometimes sharp drop-offs on the side. It was fun, as we kept seeing signs to the campground we were looking for that seemed to point off in different directions, most of them back the way we had come. Eventually we found the campground, at around 2:30 in the morning, probably causing our neighbors a lot of trouble. As we unpacked our tents and stuff we noticed that the back left tire was flat; a perfect end to a perfect day! But, being way too tired to care about it; we simply set up camp and went to sleep, thinking to fix it in the morning. So, after waking up we looked at the tire, and we had pretty much shredded it, having driven some unknown distance on it flat. But, I have a spare and a tire changing kit in the Blazer, so it wasn’t a problem. But it was. We spent at least an hour simply trying to get the spare tire to lower from its resting place on the underside of the car, as the mechanism for lowering it was very stuck and wouldn’t budge an inch. Some neighboring campers let us use some WD-40, which only made it all slippery and harder to use. I had reached a point where I was ready to simply cut the cable that held the spare tire in place and worry about the problems that caused later, preferably when we were safely home in Provo. But when I had reached rock-bottom, when my knowledge and strength were at their end, I turned to the Lord. Of course I had prayed, I had prayed almost constantly from the time I found out the tire was flat, but still no answer had come as to how to fix it. It was then, when I was at my end, that I turned to the scriptures. I opened and began to read, not really expecting to find any information about changing a tire, though I was tempted to look up tire in the Topical Guide, but expecting that the Lord would speak to my mind and my heart those things I needed as I showed him to what lengths I was willing to go in order to receive an answer from him. And the answers came. It was suggested that we walk to the Ranger Station and maybe borrow something to cut the cable, or something. But when the ranger came to help, he pulled out a ratcheting tire iron from his truck, which he said he had just put in there the day before. That simple tool was all that we needed to get the necessary torque and lower the spare tire. Once the tire was lowered it was a fairly quick job of changing the tire, and we had no more problems. And so, with the tire fixed, and our transportation home in working order again, we decided to go hiking around the rock formations of Goblin Valley, and we had a good time. We saw some amazing things, some amazing views and simply had ourselves a great hike. And in the end, it was a good camping trip, though next time I think I shall do a few things differently. It was a learning experience for us all, but mostly for me. I reached a point mentally and spiritually where all of the things that have happened in the past few weeks came together and coupled with the flat tire experience to teach me a lesson I need to learn: complete dependence on God. I need to learn to let my will be swallowed up in his, and I need to learn that it is only through him that I can do all things. And with this camping trip, I reached a point where I could do no more of myself and the only solution was to turn to God. And as he has so often promised, if we seek him he shall be found, if we ask he shall answer.

And so in the Valley of Goblins I faced and conquered a devil in my heart. Though I did not bring my broadsword, I was armed with the Word of the Lord written in my heart and in the scriptures. The battle was long and fierce, and in the end I stood victorious with my faithful Friend at my side, in whose strength I can do all things.

so, today I was in the HBLL, doing a little research for a paper due next week. I'm writing a paper on the influence Martin Luther has on an LDS audience. Yeah, I know, I kinda bit off more than I should've. I don't have hardly enough time to do enough research to write this paper as well as it deserves. And on top of it all, it seems that no one else has ever written on this subject. Everybody seems to only think of Martin Luther as the starter of the Reformation, but he was much more than that; he taught a ton of christian doctrine, he wrote literally hundreds of books and pamphlets, which are full of amazing doctrine. but oh well.
So, I was down in the Religion section looking at all the books on, about, or by Martin Luther (it's crazy how many there are!), and when my mind was full, and I was ready to leave, I went walking down a random aisle towards the door, and that's when I saw it!! A Luther Bible from 1826!! Right there on the shelf, with other Luther Bibles from 1830, 1836, 1847, 1851 etc. I was so amazed. So I had to browse through it!

And needless to say, for the next couple days I shall probably be hard to get a hold of as I will spend every moment that I can in the library reading what Luther wrote and forming my own opinions as to why it's so important.

I'm a big fan of Luther, and the more I read, the more I love him!

"I wanna be the very best, like no one ever was..."

So, i was cruising around Helium and i found a silly little debate, "Which is more powerful, the Light Side or the Dark Side of the Force in Star Wars?" It seemed like a silly little debate, but one that had potential to be fun. So I told Ted about it, and we discussed the pros and cons of both the Light Side and the Dark Side for a while. Then we decided we should take opposing views and both write on Helium in a >>>>>>>

So, I chose to debate that the Dark Side is more powerful, and I wrote a quick little article, took me about 45 minutes or so, and posted it with baited breath, waiting to see how my writing would be received. And in the end I came out on top!!! My article is # 1!! I AM THE BEST!

It's a nice feeling to be number 1, and I think I'm gonna be bragging about this for quite some time.


P.S. Ted's article has also risen to be Number 1!! We are both the best, we shall rule the writing galaxy as Father and Son . . . or as really good friends, yeah, it'll be as really good friends.

-Teeps

random ramblings

The page sits there blank in stark contrast to the confusion in my mind. Thoughts, ideas, words running around, tumbling, jumbling, not making sense. Something needs to be written, something begs to be written, but somehow I've lost the ability to organize these thoughts into any fashion of coherence. So, with pen in hand and page before me, I begin to write and I hope that my muse continues to inspire me and guide my pen as it pours these words onto the page. But the words make no sense, there's no connection between them; the confusion in my mind has transferred itself on the page, marring the beautiful blankness that was there before. And now that the purity is forever robbed nothing remains but to fill the page with such ramblings in the hope that a word or two, or a thought or two, can give this page value again. As it sits there, blank, a world of possibilities lies open before it. It has inestimable value, but value only in anticipation of what can be done with it. But as soon as the first marks of ink destroy the white purity. mar the innate beauty of a blank page, it's only hope for value and of being retained lies in what is written thereon. If there be some words of wisdom, counsel, advice, some elegant explanation of some profound principle or simply the warm greeting of a loved one, then it is enough, this page has fulfilled its purpose and can be esteemed as of worth. But if , however, there appears on the page merely the random rambling of someone too bored, confused, or desperate, then the page has been misused and, in effect, wasted. The worth of an object lies in the value placed upon it by others. If the words that are written are esteemed as being worth reading then the page is kept and has value; if not then the page is discarded and never thought about again. It was a simple thing, yet it was everything to that sheet of paper. It all began with a possibility and a hope of value, yet as soon as the pen touched paper destiny was being written.



Writing is therapeutic, they say. One loses oneself in the act and is surprised at the result.