You've All Gone Dormant; It's Winter in Chile

Work was good today, but the time I spent despues far surpassed anything that could have occurred during my time on the clock. It all began with an excellent meal at Outback Steak House with Molly, KC, Haley, Eric, Andrew, and Allysa. As Mr. Menendian said while teaching passive voice, "A good time was had by all."

We then went to a most exciting Cirque Du Soleil show called Alegria, which of course is Spanish for "happiness" but also has the connotation of excitement. They did an excellent job portraying that emotion. It was all captured brilliantly through song and act. They are truly gifted people.

Let's take some time to remember the Brazilians. "What Brazilians?" you say. The five or six most obnoxious human beings on the planet. "Where did you find these people?" you say. Directly behind us during the cirque show. I am proud of the entire Fite family for their incredible display of restraint. Nobody stabbed or choked out the Brazilians (though they should have)

Enough with that. It was the best kickoff to my Summer 2010 I could have wished for. Things to come: Going to San Francisco with Molly to see Wicked, GETTING MARRIED, and going on a cruise to Baja Mexico with the love of my life. Best summer ever.

Baseball in the Rain

Today I experienced many firsts.

It was my first time talking to a wedding photographer with Molly. He was quite the Chatty Cathy.

I went to my first little league game ever. It was also my first game in the rain.

I booked my first cruise ever.

Begin tangent:

Can I tell you guys one thing? Here it is: I don't like dealing with money. At all. Molly told me the same thing the other day and I couldn't agree with her more.

I felt sick when I clicked "continue" after entering in my information to reserve our spot on the cruise. A man should not feel like that. The cruise will be amazing and it will be well worth the money, but it freaked me out. I don't want to let money make me feel that way. I guess it's my choice.

Back on point:

Anyway, today was great. I had a fun time looking at photos with Molly and thinking about what our wedding will look like and all of the people we love that will be there. The trip to Chowchilla* and ensuing baseball game were lots of fun. On the ride home I figured out why I personally enjoyed it so much: I don't have extended family to support, especially in sports. I have two cousins and one sister. They're all girls. I have never been to a game of any sort to support any of them. Watching Nick play was like rooting for a brother or cousin I never had. It could have been pouring rain and I still would have loved it.

Life is good, people; life is good. Don't sweat the details.

Bill

I've lived most of my life in the dark.

I'm not trying to be metaphysical, or whatever. I just want you to understand where I'm coming from. Most of who I am was developed sitting patiently locked away in a dark prison cell, awaiting the few days I would live in the outside world.

I remember one such day. The door I sat behind for three years finally opened. At first the light was so intense I thought I would burn up, but I quickly adjusted. It was Christmas time, that much I recall. There were red and green streamers everywhere and the guards wore little pins on their shirts with a holly leaf and three berries. They loaded me into a truck with a bunch more just like me. I wouldn't say they threw us around, but they weren't very gentle either.

When we arrived at our destination, they packed us into another container, but I knew it wouldn't be long before they let us out this time. I was right. About two hours later I was leaving with a long-legged blonde. She wasn't my girlfriend, and she certainly wasn't my mother. To be honest, she didn't mean anything to me at all. Heck, I guess I was hardly worth anything to her anyway. When we got back to her house, all I wanted to do was sit on a window sill and bask in the sun, but she had other plans for me.

For the next three months I stayed in her room. I didn't leave once. It was just another cell to me.

I didn't know what her plan was, but when she pulled her car around that day I was compelled to go with her. Turned out she was taking me back. The guards didn't seem to even care that I was back. Just another inmate. One more piece of paper to push around, one more number to keep track of. What's one lousy dollar bill to a bank full of money?

That did not turn out at all like I wanted. I am pretty disappointed, but it's 11:51 pm. In case you didn't get it, I was not writing about a person, but about a dollar bill. It sucked, but if I don't practice I don't grow.

Why?!

What is it about my blog that somehow gets commented on by people with random Chinese names? I don't understand. I was all excited to see a comment on my last post and it turned out to be a poorly translated Chinese proverb. Lame. Is it some type of virus? Because the comments never have anything to do with the content of my post.

Chinese blog commenters: Just leave me alone!

A different writing episode

This is not a continuation of last night's story.

"Peace, love, harmony brother. That's what we're about," he explained.

"For being so keen on peace you sure maintain a big stock of weapons," Arnold replied. His tone was light, joking, but he had some misgivings about the truthfulness of the man's words.

"Yes brother, peace is not what our hippy friends once preached. Sometimes violence is only suppressed by threat of violence." A frown formed on his already wrinkled face. The two corners of his lips dipped smoothly. The pose was familiar to him.

Arnold picked up a rifle and ran his finger along the barrel. "Yes, it seems most people don't love enough to live in harmony. A greater force has always been necessary." His finger paused on the opening at the end of the barrel. "I will join you Rob. I'll do it."

The frown was erased, replaced by a "I knew it all along" smile. Arnold would be a great asset to their team, and Robert knew it.

The Foundation was not some backwoods militia. They were well organized and trained intensively in tactical maneuvers. Not all had come from military backgrounds; they ranged from big rig mechanics to investment bankers. But it wasn't their histories that brought them together, rather their view of the nation. They saw America as a protectorate, a weak territory needing someone stronger to make sure nobody inside or out could do too much damage.

Robert Margers had a master's degree from UCLA in global economics but spent most of his time teaching philosophy at a local city college. During the summers he used his free time to work on his supposed literary masterpiece, a composition based on his original concept of man's place in the universe. It took him 13 years to finish the book and almost as many to get it published. There weren't too many agents willing to push his manuscript. They told Margers that it just wasn't what publishers were looking for and that he should try again later. Maybe things would change, they said.

Things did change for Robert Margers in a big way. One summer as he made his usual round of rejection, a voice at the other end of the line finally said, "Ya, why don't you send it my way?"

I'm too tired to keep going. I think I like this one way better than I like last night's work. Like I explained before (sort of), I have no story board and I've written no notes. This is all just straight off the top of my head. It felt good to write this one. Maybe I'll actually keep going with it.

Free-write. Sort of.

There was a certain color to his words when he got angry. It felt like the normal blues and grays fell away, replaced by crimson. He produced more mucus so his words almost gurgled, as if his blood was literally boiling.

That's how it sounded when he told his son he'd had enough. And the boy never forgot how enough felt.

Growing up with a dad like that was hard. Stephen knew too well the back of his father's hand and the pain that came along with doing something wrong or doing nothing at all. So nobody blamed him for what happened.

Out behind their house there was a great stretch of land, nearly a hundred acres. A small dirt trail weaved its way through the fields to a barn right smack in the middle of it all. That's where the father and son team spent every day from sunup to quitting time. There wasn't much to it really. In the barn they kept a few tools and the rusty old Ford tractor, nearly dead but never quite there. Stephen ran the tractor and Dad ran Stephen. At the end of the day it always seemed like they had finished every chore or little bit of work imaginable. But every morning Dad would find something else that needed to be done. This left Stephen with plenty of reasons to daydream and it left his father with excuse enough to take out his anger on him.

Stephen did his work quietly to avoid trouble, but one job always made him utter curse words under his breath. He hated feeding the chickens. There was just something about it that he loathed.

After the trial, lots of folks conjectured that he had been planning to kill his father for years. Whether it took a year or ten seconds to conceive of the actual method, Stephen had certainly let the idea ruminate.

Okay and that is where my energy runs out. I'm too tired to finish this story. Maybe I will and maybe I won't. I just really needed to get something out there like I used to. I love to write and the more I practice, the better I will become. If you hate it, spare me the pain. It's my first piece in a long time and I did no revision. If you want to read more, let me know so I can be inspired enough to finish it.

Returning to the topic at hand

Today was Mother's Day (for any of my hermit readers). I have decided to try and re-write another song, but this time with a theme appropriate for the holiday. I have chosen Abba's "Mamma Mia." Enjoy.

I've been treated so well, since my first day on earth

You have given me love, not to mention my birth

Look at me now, I'm your little boy

I don't know how, but I suddenly got so old

There's a part of you in my soul

Just you wait, promise I will make you proud

One day you will hear me shout this out loud, o-o-o-ob

Mamma mia, I'm growing up again

My my, I'm gonna get married

Mamma mia, does it show again

My my, just how much I'll miss you

One day when I have my kids

I'll thank you for the things you did

Why, why did I not tell you before

Mamma mia, now I'm really glad

My my, that I belong to you and Dad

Anyway, if you know the song, that's the first full verse and chorus. I didn't write more because it's late and I'm exhausted. It's Sunday, so what could have worn me out? A game of Phase 10. Just one game. If you had been there you'd know.

5-D Movies? What will they think of next?!

I know what you're thinking: There's no such thing as 5-D. Yes, there is. In 4-D you can feel parts of it touching you; in 5-D you are literally in the movie.

My first experience with this phenomenon was tonight at Clark's house where we saw the film 1408. If you haven't seen it and want to, please stop reading now. I will most definitely ruin it for you.

Anyway, the point of the movie is that this guy couldn't get out of some room and he was going through various levels of hell. Not coincidentally, the movie was so bad that I felt trapped in a room and empathized with the man in the inferno. I desperately wanted him to escape, but more than anything I wanted the movie to end.

That being said, go watch it and tell me I'm wrong. Seriously.

Molly and I were talking about how sometimes if you want something done right you have to do it yourself. I hope I get to the point with my writing that I can create a movie script. But if it sucks I think I'd rather throw it away than make people suffer through it. Money isn't everything. Some writers deserve to be punched in the mouth.

Tomorrow I'm waking up for a bike ride with my dad. I'm gonna wear this:

Ok, no, but I would if I owned one.

Benton should make more money

It's either a late night or an early morning. Nevertheless, I have to write down something that came to my mind recently. It's a little known fact that I learned from Benton, my marriage preparation teacher.

Real love is not like the movies in so many ways. Most importantly, it's not something that you cannot control and that happens because the stars just aligned that way.

We choose love.

I chose to love Molly Fite and I could have made no better choice. She chose to love me back. I have the choice to love her every day, and I'm going to take it. There's nothing I would rather do. Period. If I could have just Molly forever and have to live in a shack with no electricity, I would take it over the finest palace without her. If I didn't have her, who would I share it with? Who would sit beside me at breakfast? Who would cook dinner with me in the kitchen? Who would laugh at our snooty neighbors with me? At least our shack would be stylishly decorated and I could keep a smile on my face. Oh ya, I definitely choose Molly.

Does that mean that everything gets to be easy from here on out? That's it? I choose her, she chooses me, and we're good? That's how the movies work. Well we're at least as in love as any couple in the movies, but we get to experience the part that they don't film. You know, the part that would come after the credits roll. Tense moments, occasional angry words, tears, dirty diapers, fighting children, self-doubt; it's all a part of the package.

It sounds like I have it all figured out. I could write a book on marriage. Oh wait, that's absurd. There are millions upon millions of situations I haven't fathomed of, let alone encountered. I talk a good talk but in the end I too doubt myself, get confused, wonder how everything can turn out right. Heck, I've still got 4 or 5 years of school left and no idea of how to pay for it all. All I'm saying is, I'm not as perfect as I make myself out to be. I'm just a guy who got good advice from people who know more.

If you're not in love, I highly recommend it. Nothing's better. Not even the finest palace.

Sabbath Pearls of Wisdom

Since moving home I have had a great chat with each of my parents regarding life and things. In the course of these two discussions my parents have imparted great wisdom. I would like to share some of what I learned from them and some things I found interesting from today's conference. It's not religious so much as it is human:

You cannot expect people to react the way you want them to react to anything, ever. Period.

Humans are diverse and unique, though often predictable. I know most of my friends and family well enough to guess with relatively high accuracy how they will react to something I say or do. Here's the kicker: I still find myself expecting them to react differently. I'll help someone out and expect them to say thank you because it makes sense to me; that's not the way the world works. Sometimes people just don't say thank you. It's usually because they forget, not because they weren't appreciative or hate your guts.

My latest goals include limiting the amount of expectations I impose upon others in my mind. This should dramatically improve all relationships and interactions.

Today during stake conference (large area meeting at church) we heard from an authority regarding several topics. Almost in passing he gave the greatest explanation for why members of our faith community do not use the cross to remember Jesus Christ. I had always heard or assumed that it was because we believe in a risen Christ and the cross is a symbol of death. Then Dr. Huntsman shared with me that other faiths use the cross to remember Christ's suffering and most use an empty cross to symbolize that He had risen. I was left wondering why we don't use the cross. This man explained today: We were instructed by Jesus to use the sacramental emblems of bread and water to remember Him. "This do in remembrance of me," was the command. It makes so much sense in my mind. I had never considered this alternative. I appreciate my Christian brothers who do wear the cross to remind them, and I'm glad to have the sacrament to remind me.

The speaker also shared three quotes with us that I wrote down because I found them impressive:

First, when speaking about a woman who had occasional tiffs with her husband he cited her words, "Do you want to be right or do you want to be married?" I love that. My dad always said, "It's better to be kind than to be right." True principle.

Second, he said, "The greatest of faults is to be conscious of none." Word.

Finally he gave this quote: "Success is going from failure to failure without any loss of enthusiasm." He used Thomas Edison as a prime example. I feel like Edison is often overused in the context of failure, but this quote seemed to appropriately capture the essence of his creative and vivacious nature.

As you can see I've been richly blessed with some awesome knowledge from three great people, two of which I love dearly. I hope you could enjoy these pearls for what they are worth. I will be working on applying them promptly.