Waffles

Have you ever had a fight with someone about waffles? Well, me and my boyfriend did, this morning. It's a pretty hilarious thing....waffles. I'm not really going to go into details, this is more just so I can remember it later and laugh.

Not that great

He certainly has beautiful eyes, Julia thought as her date rambled on about his prestigious job as a stock broker. It was becoming harder and harder for her to suppress a yawn that had been growing in her throat throughout the evening, but being a polite well bred girl, she strained to hold it in. How boring, whispered her mind, to be a stock broker. All he does is predict and look at patterns and mathematics, all numbers. Of course, they mean money, those numbers, but so intangible, it would drive me insane; to have such a pointless occupation. But he has such beautiful eyes, I might as well see where this goes.
Her date, a stylish man in probably his mid-thirties, seemed to her an excellent catch. All her friends had seen him and congratulated her, delight smothered in secret envy. Their voices had snapped out in bittersweet tones that she was "very lucky" (he was interested?) and "he's so handsome and definitely rich" (how could you get him?). Their underlying resentment boiled just below the surface of their kind faces, but Julia was used to it. All women must accept the covetousness of their friends when fortune smiles on them, or else they will never develop close bonds with them; for every woman knows that although you hate the hidden malice when it's your life that is blessed, you embrace the chance to gossip and pine together with them when it is another friend's bliss. It seemed now, though, that her friends had been utterly wrong. He wasn't a very good catch at all. She agreed that he is handsome and rich, but lacks conversation skills and most of all, a personality. Julia, perhaps, wasn't quite as shallow as her friends, for maybe they would be enjoying themselves if they were in her position, but Julia was not content at all. She was miserable. I hope he says something interesting soon, she thought, or I am leaving.
"So, do you have any money invested?" he asked her. Julia, who had been half daydreaming, gave him an innocent puzzled look and then quickly shook her head. She wasn't really interested in the stock market, and he could tell. He seemed a bit disappointed by her response and turned away to another table with a broken look. She had almost expected him to sigh or get up and leave, but he stayed there with her, silently averting her gaze, except for periodically glancing at her with boyish eyes, unsure of what to say next. Julia was bored and it shone through her faux cheerfulness like the gleam of a knife, sawing into her dates ego each time their eyes met.
"Umm, do you want to go out dancing? There's a place just down the street. I go there almost every Saturday," Julia suggested, although hesitantly. She knew she would have a lot more fun at the club, but she wasn't sure if she wanted her date to know about this place. She surely didn't want him hanging around there all the time, but the damage was done. His melancholy expression instantly turned to optimism and he once again beamed with confidence, as he had at the beginning of their date. Oh great, she thought, now his ego is reborn. The check came quickly and as soon as her date had paid, she was on her way to the club, almost leaving him behind. Julia walked rather fast despite her handicap: high heeled shoes. She really didn't enjoy this man's company, or anything about him, to be quite blunt, and she felt herself half racing against him; hoping she would lose him in the crowd. How horrible I am, she thought to herself, finally slowing her pace to a walk and let out a sigh of surrender. Her date shuffled up next to her, faintly out of breath.
"Whoa, honey, you most certainly couldn't wait to get here," he joked, bending over slightly with his palms rested on his knees as he caught his breath. In that instant, Julia hated him. She didn't like to be called pet names, such as sweetie or honey, and even if she had, she found it inappropriate to be addressed in such an intimate way by a man who was almost a complete stranger to her. She felt impatience for his social ignorance boiling inside her, about to bubble over, when she was suddenly softened by his appearance. He looked so pathetic, desperately trying to catch his breath without seeming out of shape. Obvioulsy, his love life wasn't the best it could be. Of course, earlier she had not noticed this pitiful internal man, because he had made sure to camouflage it with his boring work stories and droning about his past. He was so handsome, successful, and wealthy, she couldn't help but assume what even the best of us would: that he was living a wonderful life. But now, when she caught a glance at his soul through his eyes, those beautiful eyes he had shielded so well, she saw him for his true self. He was a lonely man, desperate for love and companionship, something so hard to come by these days. She forgot all about the boring lecture on the stock market and even the pet name, and was moved. She would give this man another chance at her heart, another chance at happiness with her.
"Are you okay?" she asked, holding out her hand to help him up, but seeing the bruise she might give his ego, she immediately added, "Come on, let's go dancing." Her suggestion seemed to cover up his weakness and he took her hand and walked with her over to the club entrance. He walked with a confident stride. One more chance, Julia thought.

Publishing my piece

Okay, the name of the piece i'm going to try to get published is "My Collection." You know, the one about the crazy artist. I'm going to try and get it published in the Scholastic Writing thing (the purple book) and also WORD magazine. But before I do, i'm probably going to revise it a little bit more (the "frozen" seems a little repetitive to me, etc.) The audience i'm going for is teenage and young adult readers, probably mostly female, although I think men should enjoy it too. The criteria, well, i'm still a bit confused on that, but I'll tell you about it later, whenever I have it all figured out. Well, I can't remember any other questions I am supposed to answer, so that's all. For now at least.

Can you believe i'm writing a play?

Mother is on stage, folding some clothes. All around are clouds and sky. A door is on the left stage. It looks out of place. Girl enters through door.

Girl:
Holy crap! This door leads to the sky! (looks down at the "sky" and around scared and confused.)

Mother:
Don't be scared honey, come on in.

Girl:
Mother? (nervously steps out onto "sky") Where am I? (gasp) Is this HEAVEN!?

Mother:
Don't ask stupid questions.

Girl:
Whoa....it looks just like I expected.

Mother:
Of course. You're not dead yet, so heaven will be nothing but what you imagine it to be.

Girl:
Hmmm, I guess so. No wonder I'd never seen that door before. Wait...that door to heaven wasn't always there and I just didn't notice, was it?

Mother:
No, it appeared just today and will disappear again tomorrow.

Girl:
Oh. (looks around again and then looks at her mother for the first real time. Tears brim her eyes) Mom, I've...missed you.

Mother:
I know. Well, what are you waiting for? Come over here and give me a hug.

Girl:
(runs over to her mother and hugs her) I'm so sorry about everything. I thought i'd never see you again.

Mother:
Well, techinacally, you won't. I'm not really here right now. I couldn't possibly be, and when you next really see me, you won't have eyes per say, for you shall be a spirit or whatever you like to call it.

Girl:
I thought you couldn't hug spirits. I thought your arms went right through them.

Mother:
You can't. Weren't you listening? I'm not really here.

Girl:
So, wait, if you're not really here, is there really a door to heaven in my laundry room?

Mother:
Well, yes and no, but do you really want to waste your day in heaven talking about the logic of this?

Girl:
No.

Mother:
Then drop it.

Girl:
Alright. Mother, have you missed me too?

Mother:
Well, ummm, no. In heaven you do not feel anything like what you feel on earth. I don't miss you or mourn leaving you or anything.

Girl:
(sadly) Oh.

Mother:
But, I do still love you. You still feel love in heaven.

Girl:
I love you too Mom. (They both sit down and Mother goes back to folding clothes.) You know it was really hard on me, when you left. It was so sudden. I mean, one day I had a mother and the next I was alone.

Mother:
I know.

Girl:
Why did you have to go so soon?

Mother:
I can't really tell you.

Girl:
Why not? It's some sort of heaven secret?

Mother:
No, nothing like that. It's just, unexplainable. It's not something you know or even feel, it's completely unexplainable. You'll only find out when it's your time. But, when you do have to die, there's nothing you can do to stop it. It is inevitable. I would like to say I'm sorry, but I'm not. It had to be. You'll understand one day.

Girl:
Oh. When you died, did it hurt?

Mother:
No, it never hurts. It's the living immediately before dying that hurts. Everyone dies peacefully, but those few seconds right before can be terrible, or so I've heard. My passing was peaceful the whole way. But dying doesn't hurt anyone. It is a release. (really exaggerated) It is an emancipation!

Girl:
But I like living. I never want to die. I don't think I would ever feel freer than I do right now.

Mother:
Here in heaven?

Girl:
No, living!

Mother:
Someday you'll understand. It is so hard for living beings to understand dying. It is more than hard, it is impossible. Dying is to evolve into a more wise beautiful being, but of course, no one knows that until they die and so humans are naturally afraid of dying. To them, it is the end of existence, and actually, in a way, it is. But once you die, you will no longer be afraid like you were when living, but there is no way to stop the fear until you do die.

Girl:
Well, I am afraid. Very afraid. More than I ever let on. Even this isn't completely easing my fear.

Mother:
Of course not. It isn't supposed to. Even those who are "at peace with dying" and the very religious and the suicidal are, at some primative level, terrified. Even this, "seeing heaven" doesn't erase doubt, so don't worry. Your fear is an inevitable as your death.

Girl:
So, if this isn't really heaven, what is heaven like?

Mother:
It is incomprehensible.

Girl:
Could you at least try to explain it?

Mother:
Alright, but you're not going to like it. It is.....nothingness yet everything. Umm, the end of existence yet not exactly. It is physical yet immaterial. It is...(Girl looks at her with anticipation) unexplainable.

Girl:
Fine, I guess I'll just wait and let it be a suprise.

Mother:
(smiles) Yes, I think you should.

Girl:
According to you I have to.

Mother:
Yes, it is inevitable.

Girl:
Stop saying that!

More to come soon! Tell me what you think. (it's supposed to be funny, by the way.)