Writing is like cooking, if you spill something, you should make it look like part of the act.
–John Keeble–

Monday, January 25, 2010

The Party of Three

here is my latest work...
“Well this is as good as it gets.”
He wouldn’t have asked you out if he thought you could look any better. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t expect for you to open the door and see a super model
“6:58, I need to hurry, he will be here soon.”
You have everything you need. Make up, check, teeth are brushed, check, hair looks good, check, lip gloss in pocket and phone, check, check.
“7:01, he is not coming. Dang it, what if I understood him wrong.”
If he is not here by 7:10 then he doesn’t get another chance. SHOES! What ones, umm, tennis shoes there might be a lot of standing and walking.
“Was that him?”
Don’t rush to the door! Ok Jacket is on the couch, open door then get the jacket. Don’t want to seem too eager to leave.
“Hello”
“Hi, are you ready?”
“Yea let me just get my coat.”He looks so nice. Forgot perfume “I forgot something, can you hold on for a minute?”
I think I need to change my shoes. He is not wearing white tennis shoes. Let’s go with the brown Lola’s. Would it be ok to wear high heels with jeans?
“Ok, I am ready. Thank you for waiting.”
I don’t think he will notice the shoe change, guys never notice the shoes. Hopefully he will notice the perfume.
“So, how do you feel about Italian?”
“I love Italian”
Awkward silence, I hate when this happens. Quick, what are some things we can talk about? Crap, I can’t be drawing a blank. What did we talk about in class today? I could bring that up, it was interesting.
“So how was your day?”
“Oh, it was good. Same old stuff.”
“What did you do in class today?”
“Um, English stuff, 218, its creative writing.”
“Do you like to write?”
“Yea, a little bit.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Usually short story stuff, nothing long.”
“That’s cool; I wish I had more time to read.”
This could be going some were
“What was the last book you read?”
“The Book of Mormon, while I was on my mission.”
“Oh, err, what book before that?”
“Honestly I think the last book I read was my freshman year of high school.”
Bummer, well book are out.
“What type of stuff do you like to reading?”
“Mostly classics. Once you get past the slow moving plots they can be really good.”
“That’s probably why they are classics.”
Was that supposed to be a joke? Laugh anyways.
“Yea, ha-ha, I like stuff with little dialog. It makes it easier to skim read.”
Wow, this place looks nice. I hope he is not paying too much for this. I think I over did it on the perfume, I am starting to feel sick. Breath slowly, the fresh air will help. Where is the door latch!
“Um, I think I am stuck.”
“What?”
“I can’t find the door handle.”
“Oh, let me unlock it for you and its right here.”
Oh wow, that’s close and he smells Amazing!
“He he, thanks” ugh, what do I do with my hands in the pockets, at my side? Why did I wear this jacket, the pockets are so small. Man it’s warm in here, good I get to take this jacket off, I can’t believe I wore it. Booth seats, I have to slide. I’m glad I wore jeans. The waitress looks way cute. I hate her. Look at this menu, so any choices. This silence has been way too long. Books didn’t work, umm.
“The painting over there looks really cool.”
“What one?”
“The landscape behind the counter”
“Oh, yea that is interesting.”
“I like how the artist took the Italian landscape and by using different colors, made it more abstract like the red in the ground, the purple water, and the orange sky.”
“Yea it’s nice. The artist did a good job at, um; the relist place and making it look like um, making it unreal.”
Did he just say what I just said, ok then, art is out. I need to think of more relatable subjects. What do guys like; um... oh the chicken looks good. Ugh, it has mushrooms. Sports! What teams did he say he liked?
“So the Lakers lost last night.”
“Ah, I know, it was so close. They were a head until the last 5 minutes.”
I am so glad I saw in the news paper this morning.
“Who are they playing next?”
“The Bulls, it’s a home game.”
“How do you think they will do?”
“Well, considering…”
I have no idea what he is talking about. Just smile and nod, smile and nod. The shrimp looks way over priced. The sampler doesn’t look appetizing. Ugh, there’s that waitress again.
“I will have the Lasagna.”
Rude totally ignore me, “Yea, I will have the Chicken Caesar Salad.” That’s typical get the salad. Well at least there’s some kind of salad in it. Maybe I should have gone with something bigger, nah the salad is fine. If I would have gotten anything else I would eat a bite and be done. Why are forks so interesting? I wonder who invented it.
“Have you ever looked at a fork and wondered you came up with it the idea?”
I guess anything is better than silence. “Yea I was just thinking that.” Aww brilliant keep it going. “Did they start with a stick and then to add more points.”
Ok this is good it’s going somewhere. Ok. This is good. It’s going somewhere. I can keep this up for the rest of the night. I am fully prepared with useless information. Thank you, double Art History major. Just don’t say anything stupid or weird. Keep that until the second date.
“Thank you for going out with me tonight.”
~
Thank you for asking me. “Thank you, I had fun. I am sorry about spilling the paint on your lap.” I can’t believe that happened. At least I covered well. You will be lucky if he asked for a second date. But he did say thank you, but he could also be saying that to be polite. The Awkward door scene, no!
“Well this is my door.”
“Yep.”
“Um. Well goodnight”
I love the way he smells, he can hold me forever, if he smells like this. Cool it Romeo it was only the first date.
“Goodnight.”
First date success, next step marriage, ha-ha. O crap homework. What time is it?
“10:30 I have time.”
English, creative writing. Writing Prompt. Shoot I am going to be up all night. Next time this comes first, before social life. I can see it now 30 years old single and childless. If that’s the price it costs.
What to write about. Step one: pen to paper. Step two: write. His eyes were so big! That’s not following the prompt. Critical voice inside my head? Do I have one of those? Nope, totally black up here, at least I have looks.
I don’t know why I was so nerves. He is good guy and I enjoy his company and I can tell he thinks I am cute, by the fact that he told me so. Then I dumped the finger paint on him. No wonder your writing is struggling, you get distracted by a pair of eyes and by a smell that over powers you.

Bollywood!


Sorry I have not been posting anything recently. I have been really busy with school, and on top of all of that Megan and I decided it was time to get cultured and watch more Bollywood movies.

How all of this started you might ask, well a little movie call Ghaijni (I can’t pronounce the title). Its 3 hours long and it’s about a guy who has a 15 min. memory lost, and he is trying to get revenge on the guy who killed his girlfriend. It’s very intense and cute, if it had a category I would put it under, chick-flick, action, horror, foreign film, and mystery. It pretty much fills all your movies needs.

After showing my roommates this movie they thought I was crazy, the music was good, but it wasn’t until the next day that they told me that they really liked it. When my friend Alex heard that we like the movie he told us we needed to be more cultured in the Bollywood Theater. So, now we are back at the beginning, this week in my apartment is Bollywood week. We plan on watching Bollywood movies all week!

Thursday, January 21, 2010

poem... that was created by a few random lines

this poem sound depressing... but its what came out

Fire

I cannot fight
My enemy I cannot see
Big, looming, out there

A friend killed
I’ve seen the worse
Tears, fear, I can be strong

I have done wrong
So many lives
Mine so small

The enemy is me
Grief, pain, life
I would choose the same again

The struggle to win
A life stooped
All ashes and dust

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Taylor freakin' suzan LEE


Would I sell my sister?

When I was 8 and she was 2
I would make the bargain,
For a penny or two.

You stole everyones heart,
And left me the ponies and dolls.
Now we are older,
Still 8 and 2.

Across all the oceans,
I would go
To beat the guy,
And break his nose.

I would laugh and You would cry.
Until sleep drifted like a lullaby

My little sister
I would not sell
A penny would never do.
You are worth more then a penny or two.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

The Terrors of McDonalds

so this is part two. read jimmy before this one.
umm i dont know what to say about this part, so tell me what u think.i feel like i am doing a lot of telling and not enough showing.
...
One morning Jimmy woke up to Mama screaming and Ben’s yelling. He stayed in bed until Liz and Mat woke up, Ruf and Tug had jumped off the bed when the yelling started.
“What, what are they yelling about,” liz asked shaking. She was still young and did understand that Mama Husbands didn’t need excuses to yell. Roy had told him that, before Liz was born.
He crawled out of bed and put his face up to the crack in the door. He could see Mama and Ben, their new father, standing across from each other in the living room. This was the first place Jimmy had lived were the couch pulled out into bed, Mat said they had one when Jimmy was a baby and he slept on it with Mama. The Apartment was small and the Kids got the only bedroom. Mama had told them it was because she wanted then to be out of the way, when the family came over.
Mama was pregnant again, and it was not going to look like Ben, the way Liz did. She had explained this once to Jimmy before, she told him it was because they had different fathers. Ben was their Uncle before Mama decided to marry him, he wondered what Uncle Mama was going to marry next after Ben left. Ben had been their father for a long time now; Jimmy was not going to miss him.
The crack in the door was too small for Jimmy to see what was thrown, but he did hear a loud thud. Mama and Ben had moved out of sight. Jimmy could no longer hear Ben yelling, but Mama had started crying.
***
Social Worker put the kids in her back seat, mat sat up front. Mama was talking to the police up at the apartment door, she wasn’t looking down at her kids the ice pack hid half her face. Ben was sitting in the Police car that was waiting for Social Worker to leave so they could pull out.
They stopped at the nearest McDonalds. Social Worker said they could get whatever they wanted. Usually, when Mama brought them they only got a hamburger and fries. Mat ordered the Big Mac with extra large coke. Liz got the Barbie Happy Meal that came in a pink box. Jimmy was unsure what he wanted. McDonalds was a special place where Mama brought them without Ben, if she had a lucky week. His favorite was the orange pop they would all share. He wanted to keep that special with Mama, so he ordered the Chicken McNuggets and a Sprite.
After they ate Social Worker allowed them to play in the Play Structure. As they climbed around the colorful tubes Social Worker read a book with a man, whose shirt was ripped, holding a sleeping woman in his arms. They played for a long time.
Jimmy was getting hungry again and wanted to go home. Mat went down and asked Social Worker for more food. She produced three ice cream cones, one for each of them.
“When are we going home?” Jimmy asked.
“Well after this I am talking you to the Normans, where you will spend the night. After that we will see.” Social Worker was true to her word. After the ice cream cones they drove into a part of town Jimmy had never been before. The Houses were close together without wheel or bricks to hold them up, and the yards were all clean. Kids ran around in the yards playing tag, they did not stop to look as the car drove by. They stopped at the blue house.
The Normans were an older couple. Their kids had all grown up and left home. Liz got here own bedroom and the boys shared a room with bunk beds.
They ate dinner in front of the T.V. like at home, but the Normans talked all through the show.
“My dear,” Mrs. Norman would say addressing Liz. “Your hair is beautiful. I wish my hair was so thick and smooth. It must be very easy to take care of. My girl Rose was always curly, we would go and get it straightened by the time she was twelve, because I could no longer deal with the mess it made every morning. She now keeps it curly again, complains that it is unnatural straight, so she keeps it curly. My dear I just can’t get over how beautiful your hair is.” Mr. Norman kept asking the boys sports question, but lost interest because Jim was the only one who was willing to give him answers. Hockey was the only sport they watched at home, and Mr. Norman knew very little about the sport. “It’s not American,” he said.
Jim got the bottom bunk; he wasn’t in the mood to fight Mat for the top. The bed had a light blue comforter with galloping horses, and white sheets that were tucked in at the ends. He spent most of the night staring at the wooded slates above his head. He missed Mama; he also missed Ruf and Tug. He would pull them up onto the bed that he shared with Liz and Mat. He was not use to the blankets that covered the bed so well, or the pillow under his head.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Jonny

A Work in progress inspired by the kids in my life
Boom.
Pow.
Seconds in our lives that changes everything, but what about the daily choices. What does the consequences of wearing a green shirt on Monday instead of the blue one, or talking to a Co-worker instead of passing them at the water cooler? The one time in college you decided to attend a party instead of studying.
Jonny, it is a simple name, but it fits a variety of people. Teachers, construction workers, CEOs, bums, writers, and models, Jonny can also fit very simple people.
At the age of six, Jonny was moved out of his home and moved into a stranger’s house. He was told by the women who called herself the “Social Worker” that home was no longer safe.
One of Jonnys earliest memories was holding his little sister. When Mama came home, they called her Baby. “Baby is crying.” “Baby needs clean clothes.” “Don’t let those dogs near Baby .” Jonny loved the help and protect Baby. When ever he held her he knew that some day he would be able to be a father too. He would be able to pay for their food, teach his kids how to be big and strong, and smart.
He would wonder while she was in his arms, she was mostly held by him because Mathew his older brother would forget that Baby was in his arms and drop her, if life was already set for Baby, or if she could make her own choices. Jonny knew very little about God. The only time he heard Him being mentioned is when Mathew or himself did something wrong and their Mom Caught them “My God , what happened to this room?” “Boys did you do this to the Dog, God , how stupid could you be.” Dad mentioned him more often, usually when he was drunk and was too tired to hit anyone. He would cry and ask, “why God, why”. Jonny only knew if he was God, he would want to give Baby a chance of having a different life.
Somewhere Jonny believed that there was a place where people laughed without fear, that a father hugged their kids like the actors on TV. At dinner the table would always be set and smiling faces sat around it like the models in the magazines. Somewhere there was a place that was not like this one, where he lived now.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Rules - working title

i am in a creative writing class this semester and i want to post some of my writing here so i can get some feed back. this is the first draft so it is kinda rough.
i know i want to add more to the beginning, but i am hard on idea. so tell me what you think.

Rules, I believe to be set up to keep people safe. Sometimes we view rules as guidelines. No matter how they are viewed rules are useful, like giving you an excuse to kick out your roommate’s boyfriend.

Before I go into the story I would like to make an analogy. I like to view like as a quick game of cards. In this game we have each been dealt out a hand of card, the objective is to lay down the cards in a conversation as fast as possible, with in an 8 second time limit.

9pm.

18 year old roommate # 1 was on the couch with Thinks He is Hot Stuff Boyfriend

Megan and I were sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner.

“So are you guys “sticklers" with the Honor Code?” asked the couch.
With a quick glance at each other we ask “what do you mean?” no one likes being labeled a sticker, but we would bear the title if we had to.

“Well”, making it sound like the most obviously thing in the world, “how do u feel about 5:30?”
“Wow! No, that is way too early.”
“4:30”
No
“3:30”
“You do realize that the time is getting earlier.”
“2:30”
“Oh, you mean to say how early before we kick you out. No.”
“1 am,” like it was his final offer.
“Yea sure, on Friday nights”
“So you want me out of here right at 12.”
“Yes.” We had crushed their love. We could see it behind their eyes; we were just labeled as the “sticklers”. To save our un-reputations we quickly added, “Well if you were on your way out, then we wouldn’t mind too much. Like if you were watching a movie and there was 15 minutes left, but just because we said that doesn’t mean you can do it tonight.”

The conversation split up to its separate room, and the night flowed into other actives.

11:45

The lights were all off when I entered the living room and kitchen. The only light came from the flickering of the snow falling on Christine Daae.
I laughed the “you think you are so smart” ha-ha. I flipped the kitchen light on, adding a yellow glow to the seated couples lighting. “Yea put in a movie, um uh.”
“Don’t worry I will be gone by midnight.”
“Yea, ok.”
“No, seriously I will be gone.”
I filled my cup in the sink, flipped the light off behind me, and closed the hall door.

The back room was filled with activity. Reading, homework, showering, brushing of teeth, the dress apparel was mostly towels and booty shorts. I don’t know if it was the look on my face, the way I closed the door behind me, or the fact that we would all hear the Angle of Music was about to kill Raoul, but being girls we eminently started clicking like chickens. It wasn’t that hard to guess what was going on behind the closed door, but it was still fun to stereotype New Freshmen Roommate #1. As we were gossiping the Clock passed 12 am and continued without our notice.

12:21

Swinging the door open, flipping all the lights on, and simply stated to the hypothermic couple on the couch, “you lied to me.” short and simple, but of course I had to rube in the guilt. “I can’t believe you lied. I mean, I trusted you. You promised to leave by mid-night and it is now almost 12:30.”

Slowly stretching and removing his self from the embraces of the couch, I continued the guilt trip. “The movie isn’t even close to being over; we said “if” the movie was almost over. You still have like an hour of this movie. We could all be kicked out of school.”

“I’m not really a student here,” he interrupted, “so I don’t have to follow the Honor Code.”

Just like playing a card game, we had played our worthless cards, slowly building up to our Aces.

“But, we could all still be kicked out. Then you would have to call all my parents, Megan’s and Erin’s parents and explain to them why we can no longer continue our education here at BYU-Idaho. Then you will have to call her parents,” pointing to New Freshman Roommate, “and explain to them why their little girl can no longer attend classes.”

“I’m not going to take responsibility for this,” was the response he laid down before I could continue my play. He stood in the entry with his hand on the door knob. The room was filled by New Freshmen Roommate #2, who had followed me in and New Freshman Roommate #1 exchanging silent words of surprise, anger, and embarrassment. Their silent conversation filled the room better than an elephant.

All of this went on as I quickly decided to solidify my reputation with New Freshmen Roommate 1 and 2. “You would still have to explain to her parents,” indicating towards the couch, “where she has gotten the hickies.” That had done it. He was out of apartment without a “goodnight”. More silence filled the room and I was topic of conversation. “You can follow him if you want.” I told #1. “I don’t care if you are here or not after mid-night. I just don’t want him here. We are all in our P.J.’s and someone just got out of the shower and is only wearing a towel.”
#2 looked as if she was trying to move the sink behind me with her mind power. #1 mumbled a response about the cold and how late it really was.

I left the pair in the living room and returned to the preparations taking place in the bathroom.