Scene 3, Part 2

[The camera move slowly through the room, at approximate pace of a person walking. Small groups of people (2, 3, and 4 at a time) are seen talking, laughing, smiling, eating, drinking, just hanging out. Some conversations are louder than others, as the case is with a large group of people divided into smaller groups, yet still a communal experience. The camera focuses upon one particularly loud conversation occurring right outside of the kitchen area.]

Don: You've got to be kidding me. You actually fit through that door? I don't believe you. I'm not saying that you're big or anything, but that's a small, stinking door!

Jackie: Why would I joke about something like that? Why would I pretend that my whole side is bruised up from cramming myself through that small door because the phone was ringing and I was locked out of my house? Isn't the whole scenario a bit too far-fetched to have been made up?

Paul: Well, I don't know what to think. You're telling me that when you walked outside in your pajamas to get your laptop out of your car, you accidentally closed the door behind you. Then, when you opened the gate to get to your car and see if there was an extra key to the house in there, your dog ran past you and into the woods. Then, as you pondered on how to get back into the house, your mind leapt upon the idea of getting in through the doggy door. THEN, as you started inching your way through the door, your cell phone, which you do lots of business for your job on, started ringing.

Don [picking up on the story]: THEN, as you fling yourself through the doggy door, scraping up your right side, you get to the phone to find out that the number on the caller ID belongs to the guy you have a crush on who your boss happens to be best friends with AND is writing a book with. Do you really expect us to believe that all of this happened to you?

[As he finishes his sentence, another girl joins the group, but she's not quite sure of what's going on.]

Jackie [laughing all the way through their rendition]: Yes! All of this happened to me! [She slightly lifts up the bottom of her t-shirt to reveal a rather purple bruise] Do you really think I wanted to give this to myself just to back up my made-up story? I don't think so gentlemen....

Haley [with a serious, yet perplexed look on her face]: Hey Jackie, why are you all purple right there? Did someone hit you or something?

Jackie [trying not to smile as Haley asks her the inane question] : No, Haley. Why would you think that I would have been hit?

Haley: I don't know Jackie. Why else would someone be purple and bruised right there?

Jackie [now trying to suppress a laugh as Don and Paul slink away from where this conversation is going]: Did you hear my story about what happened the other night?

Haley: No. I just heard you three talking loudly and wanted to know what was going on. I was bored with Randy & Mark's talk about guitars. They tend to talk over my head with stuff.

Jackie: Well, that's because lots of people tend to.... Never mind. How have you been Haley?

Haley [not really aware that Jackie has just changed subjects]: I've been doing well. School keeps me busy and so does work. But, I don't really work much, just enough to pay for new clothes, shoes, & stuff.

Jackie [sarcastically]: It must be a hard life you lead, with those 12 hours of school, your Mustang, your 12 hours of work, and all that other stuff you do.

Haley [oblivious to the sarcasm]: I know! I keep myself so busy with my dates, my classes, and my salsa dancing practices that I don't know how I get it all done. It's like I told my friend Jenny the other day....

[Jackie leans down onto the counter, with her chin in her hand, knowing that she's in for a long talk, unless she gets saved somehow by someone. Haley's voice fades away as the camera begins scanning the gathering again.]

Scene 3, Part 1

[The camera is set up at the end of a long dark road, with a sizeable house to the left of it. 3 cars are in the tree-lined street as light aproach in the distance. A car pulls up to the house, stops, & parks. There is shuffling inside the car that can't quite be seen because it's dark.]

[Switching camera angles to where the house is on the right-hand side, the car door opens and Simon exits. Since it's rather dark in the street, you see him shadowed as he starts talking and walking. The camera views him from his right side.]

Simon: Wednesdays at work seem to always go by fairly quickly, mostly because I'm always looking ahead to what will be going on after work. Some people feel that time drags by really slowly when they're anticipating some event -- the whole "a watched pot never boils" kinda thing. However, while I've had those slow days on occasion, invariably, my Wednesdays always seem to zip by and it's a wonderful thing. It truly is.

[As Simon finishes this sentence, he enters decent light stops. We find him standing in the middle of the driveway of the sizeable house, with 4 cars filling all available driveway space. The camera angle views him from the left as he then turns left to face the camera, musing aloud.]

Simon: You see, I have this great group of friends that I meet with every week at this time. What do we do, you might ask. We eat. We talk. We listen. We laugh. We play cards. We listen to music. We watch TV. We hang out. We don't do anything specific. We just spend time together -- no agenda, no plans, no real organization of any kind. We're just there and it's such a great experience, living life together like this.

[The camera angle switches to follow Simon from behind as he begins to walk on a sidewalk. The sidewalk makes a right turn and the camera follows. He stops at the large, double wooden doors to the house and turns to face the camera.]

Simon: What makes these people so great? It's nothing too particular, really. Some people I don't talk to regularly & some people I talk to constantly. There are some people I see only this one time a week & some people I see at many other times in the week. And then there are the people I have no clue what they're doing here and some people that I wish I would have known all of my life because of the impact they've had on my life. This house is full of all kinds of people, and I don't know what I'd do without them.

[Simon opens the left hand door and, as the camera begins to follow him, you hear a slight door chime as the door closes behind him.]

Alas....

Dang, I'm a slacker....

I have these thoughts, ideas, scenes, conversations running through my head, but I never seem to find a way to actually write them down as often as I need to do so. My friend, So I Go, seems to achieve production (and such deep production it is) on such a regular basis. The problem is that I feel ashamed next to him, as opposed to getting mobilized and motivated. He's given me good feedback on my material (which should be a sign of some sort), but I find too many other ways to occupy my time at night. I guess I should set up some sort of deadline for myself on a regular basis. I hate looking & feeling like a lard-ass....