September and Everything After

When you get engaged - so many other aspects of your life get put on hold. Not least among these is blogging - well, at least until you start having children and have nothing better to do than chronicle your life for the entertainment of all of your friends with children and blogs and inordinate amounts of free time.

I apologize for the haitus...and must warn that it will, most likely happen again and again and again...

Also - please don't take this entry as evidence of any pregnancy. We've taken many, often overlapping precautions against such a joyous event. I just wanted to take a moment to catch anyone out there who's still reading up on my life over the past few months.

On September 13th, I took this beautiful girl to the Newport Beach Temple and married her forever.

FYI - they're completely right when they say that this day passes by in the blink of an eye. One minute I'm eating a delicious cinnamon treat with my brother Scot in front of the temple...and then, in a blur of family, friends, pictures, food, and dancing I'm carrying my bride across the threshold of our little 1 bedroom apartment and the thousands of dollars and millions of hours of preparation have cumulated in this new life...which - two months in, I'm still only beginning to comprehend.

We honeymooned in the Dominican Republic - and spent a week doing absolutely nothing...which was fantastic.

And now we're back home and back in the swing of things...getting used to our new ward (FYI - for those of you still in singles' wards - the weirdest thing about going back to a family ward isn't all the children - it's the old people). We're pretty much engrossed in the process of learning how to live with someone of the opposite sex and everything that comes with being married.

In other news - Obama got elected to the presidency. That's right, you heard it here first...tell your friends. I didn't vote for him...but sitting on the couch, listening to his victory speech, I couldn't help but feel some of that excitement. Love him or hate him, he has brought a lot of positive energy into this country at a much needed time. I'm excited to see what he'll do...and while my tone may change in the months and years to come, on 11/4/08, I couldn't help but feel this enormous pride to be an American.

Also - Prop 8 passed. I'll save my commentary on that one for another entry...

More to come in the weeks (but probably the months) to come. I hope you'll all keep checking for updates at least semi-annually. I promise I'll try not to disappoint.

What's new...

Well hello there. You're still coming here, huh? I'll be honest...I don't get you...I mean this kid hasn't posted anything in the past five years or so...and yet here you are sniffing around like a lost puppy looking for home. Seriously...where's the self respect?

So what's new in the sometimes interesting life of David? Well, I'm glad you asked, because there are definitely a few things I've been meaning to tell you about.

First of all, I finally broke down and bought myself a pair of those noise-cancelling headphones. Before you start laughing, let me explain. I was once like you. "How can a mere set of headphones cancel noise? That's just silly...that David's just chasing another fad." I've had some decent headphones in my day and while they've overpowered the noise, there has been no cancellation. Well, brothers and sisters...what can I say? I'm a believer. Pop these bad boys in your ears and it's as if noise ceases to exist. They're magnificent.

Okay, next - you know when you're out shopping and you find an item that screams your name and won't stop screaming until you purchase them? Well friends, I was cruising the aisles of Marshall's recently (oh, come on - don't pretend you've never done it) and in the shoe aisle I found what was for me the holy grail of shoes...that's right folks - white loafers. Now I know what you're saying: "____(fill in the blank with some witty comment worthy of you)_____". But I'm here to tell you that white loafers are the FUTURE...not the past. Trust me on this one, go and buy a pair today. You can thank me later.

Hmmm...what else? Um...well, maybe that's it. I won't bore you with the story of the windshield wiper insert that would not fit (I'm advocating the death penalty for South Coast Acura's entire "Parts" department). So I guess I'll sign off...

Oh wait...

That's right...I knew I was forgetting something - I got engaged.

So in the interest of those of you who haven't yet dragged the story out of me, I've decided to post the details here in two convenient versions (male and female) so that if any of my friends ask me about it, I can direct them to the blog. It's all about efficiency with me kids.

To uphold the ladies' first tradition, I'll start with the female version of the story (fellas - please skip to the end. I'm doing this for your own good):

Twenty seven years and eight months ago I was born to a loving mother and father... Oh, wait...you don't want that much detail? Right, okay.
So a couple of years ago I was dating a girl...let's call her Guadalupe (Lupe for short). Now Guadalupe was a really cool girl, we had a great time together. But, as often happens when relationships don't work out...we broke up.
Fast forward a year and a half or so to the beginning of this year and I got a call from Lupe's brother "Admiral McAwesome". The Admiral asks if I'm dating anyone, and while I'm flattered that he's interested, I'm a bit confused since he's already married to a woman and all... So he continues to tell me about how, back when I was dating his sister, there was this other girl who he really thought that I should date. Odd, I know. So after ensuring that Guadalupe wouldn't be upset, I agreed to the setup.
Enter - logistical problems, schedule conflicts and a boy named "Johnny Idaho" who was kind of busy dating this young lady.
So, a few months later, the stars aligned, Taurus was rising in Leo's third phase (or some other such nonsense) and the blind date was planned an executed.
Now it's been a fun little courtship - the kind where you hang out in the car after dates (the front seat, not the back you perv) and just talk for hours and hours, the kind where you laugh and laugh and cancel your gym membership because hanging with this girl is a better ab workout than anything else you've ever found, the kind where you finally feel that things are "just different"...and for the first time, you know what all those annoying married people meant when they said "You'll just know" or "It'll just feel different".
I knew after about a month that I wanted to marry this girl. I even wrote it in my journal (yeah, I keep one of those too...and no, you can't read it). A month or so after this realization, we talked about it...and I was relieved to find out that she felt the same way. So before rings were bought or questions popped, we started telling the entire world what we'd discovered. To have kept something like that quiet would have been tantamount to finding the cure for cancer and not telling a soul...it just wasn't happening.
But eventually (after just about everyone already knew), a ring was bought and a trip planned to Brazil (in separate transactions). Now, if you ask her today, she'll tell you that she really didn't think that I'd propose there. I'm not sure I believe that...but I love her for lying.
Brazil was a blog entry unto itself. Midway through the trip we went to Iguacu Falls:(not bad, eh?)

We got to a point about here:

And Vanessa started tearing up because "it's just so beautiful" (apparently seeing beautiful things makes women so angry that they burst into tears. It's a natural defense mechanism...if not for the tears, they would burst into flames...the tears are just to keep things under control...but i digress). I've always been told that the best time to propose is when the girl's crying...because the tears actually make the diamond look bigger. So I shakily removed the ring from its strategic hiding place (switzerland) (not really) - my pocket, got down on one knee and (the cameras pan away, the music rises and........magic).

Then some tourists came and took this picture:

Afterwards it rained about 400 kilometers of water on us (Brazil uses the metric system...for you yanks, that's about the equivalent of Lake Powell).

Oh...and she said yes.

And that's that.

Oh...one more thing. I know the women-folk need to see this or I'll be in huge trouble:

This is the actual size (unless you're reading my blog on your phone in which case you must be in a REALLY long line...or perhaps stuck in traffic). Vanessa has very, very large fingers - they're one of the many reasons I love her.

Wow...that was actually much MORE painful and time consuming than I thought it would be...I don't know how you women do it.

Male Version:

So I took her to Brazil and there are these really cool waterfalls there...so when we got there i proposed.

And now finally my mom can find something else to fast for.

Fortune-ately I'm keeping track

Luckily for you, when I eat a fortune cookie, I hang onto that little slip of paper inside. I know, I know...many of you think that's just plain silly. What do those delicious cookies know anyway...right? Wrong.

I'd like to share with you (my diminishing readership) some of the gems that have been hidden away in my wallet until quite recently. You may want to keep reading, after all...some of these may involve you...or someone you know...or me:

YOU OR A CLOSE FRIEND WILL BE MARRIED WITHIN A YEAR
See, I told you you'd want to keep reading. That's right my friends...it might be me...it might be you. It might be any one of my fifty million Mormon friends out there who've actually taken that step within the past three or four weeks. That's the wonderment (yes, that's areal word) of the fortune cookie. Somehow it KNOWS that within the span of a mere 365 days, someone's gonna tie the knot. Magical. Look out ladies, cuz I don't need game when I've got a fortune like that in my back pocket.

YOU DESERVE RESPECT AND WILL GET IT
Damn right I will (sorry for the profanity Mom, but you know how fortune cookie talk gets me riled up). So now that the fortune cookie gods have decreed it, I think it's time you and I came to a mutual understanding of what it means to respect David Keithly. I've taken the liberty of drawing up a short list:
1. It's always appropriate to bow when I enter a room. While I don't expect you to prostrate yourself on the ground (I don't discourage it either), a simple bow from the waist will suffice. Try to pass off a head-nod as a bow and I hope you're feeling brave...and lucky. And I also hope you have a fortune that says something about staring death in the face and walking away...
2. Appropriate titles for David Keithly include (but are not necessarily limited to: my lord, my liege, oh enlightened one, admiral, fantastico, commodore or chuck norris.
3. Friendship dues are due by the first of the month or said friendship will be suspended. No exceptions. No extensions. No refunds.
4. Stay away from my frozen hoho's.

AN OLD FRIEND WILL INTRODUCE YOU TO NEW PEOPLE AND PLEASURES
Here's the homework assignment for this blog entry - if you've known me for longer than 7 months, you'd better get on this one. It's not really up to me HOW you're going to do it...or even WHAT you're going to do. Be creative...and remember that the fortune cookie gods are watching.

AMONG THE LUCKY, YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE
Proof positive:

I like to update my blog at night...generally well past midnight (which is probably the closest I'll ever come to actual intoxication). There's nothing quite like a Dr. Seuss movie (oh yes, I did) and a crepe to make me wax contemplative in the wee hours of the morn'.

These past couple of weeks have been extremely eventful - I met a girl (yay!), separated my shoulder (boo!), my baby sister got married, a good friend "came out" to me and another good friend is tying the knot ten short hours from now (and then there were two).

There are so many fantastic things about meeting someone new. I love the awkwardness of first dates and doorstep scenes. I love knocking on the door for the first time and getting that sudden, gut wrenching feeling that suddenly your skin doesn't fit right. And yes...sometimes it can be exhausting to get to know someone new - to fill them in on all of your quirks and idiosyncrasies...but then sometimes it can feel like you're Columbus stumbling his way onto the American shore for the first time. You wonder - "how could I have lived this long, so close to something this amazing, without ever knowing it?" I love the talking in cars after the dinners or movies, the awkward phone calls where you're never quite sure what to say but still end up talking for hours. Most of all I love the (treacherous?) hope that rises unbidden from somewhere deep within. It's the same hope that robs me of confidence and propels me forward into....?

Shoulders were not meant to be separated...in fact, I've come to believe that shoulders were meant to be left entirely alone. There should be no tearing, dislocating or otherwise misusing this joint unless you plan on never changing clothes, or really ever moving that region of your body, again. But, if you're like me and you do stupid things occasionally and end up messing things up - I would advise you to pray for Vicodin.

The one good thing about separating your shoulder though is that you'll DEFINITELY stand out in your sister's wedding pictures. ("Who's the idiot with the arm brace?") Shortly after said shoulder injury, my baby sister got hitched. For me, the hardest part of the entire process is watching the photo-montage that they put together. You know the one - there's a country song playing in the background while the bride and groom blossom before your eyes blah blah blah. I thought I'd seen enough of these to be forever immuned to their tear-jerking ways...but then I saw my baby sister on the screen. It's different when the little girl on the screen is still a little girl in your mind...when you remember that easter dress or the fabulous 80s hairstyle. It's somehow different when you remember the baby, the little girl, the young woman...and somehow difficult to put all of those memories into the beautiful bride you see dancing with her new partner - and realize that your baby sister is all grown up. I love that little girl, and I'm so proud of what she's grown into.

You're going to have to wait to hear the rest because my Nutella-induced melancholy has faded - but rest assured that the next time sugar and I meet late at night, you'll find our love child in the words of this blog shortly thereafter.

Thoughts, a sad tale and a dash of Shakespeare

I realize that it's been a little while since my last entry...and I have a very good explanation for my absence - I'm a lazy S.O.B. who would rather watch old episodes of "Scrubs" than blog. (For other sad facts about the writer, please visit scotkeithly.blogspot.com and check out the latest post). Also - I don't think I had a single interesting thought during the past couple of weeks...and there's really nothing worse than listening to nonsensical ramblings by those with nothing better to do than rant at the expense of you, the poor, unsuspecting reader (again, see scotkeithly.blogspot.com).

A friend of mine (who, in order to protect myself, will remain nameless) had an interesting experience on Saturday night.

This young lady recently got out of a pretty serious relationship, and has been suffering from the after-shocks of lost love. Luckily, she's a cutie, and the gentlemen (and others) just can't seem to get enough of her...so she hasn't been sitting at home alone on the weekends. She even started moving towards serious with a certain young man. unfortunately, like many of us who have felt the fury of a hot stove...she's afraid of getting burned again, especially with scars that are just now beginning to heal.
So our little friend told semi-serious boy that she wasn't ready for anything REALLY serious...and wanted to date around. He, being a pretty understanding guy, was fine with that as soon as she promised not to kiss any of these others.
But then Saturday night came along (as it tends to do) and with it a smooth young man with a silver tongue and lightning quick texting thumbs. And later on that same evening, our little friend found herself in his sculpted arms.
Unfortunately, chaste reader, we must leave them there...and pick up our tale on the following evening.
Semi-serious boy came to pick up our little friend and spend an enchanting evening by the sea - gazing into each others' eyes and whispering sugar-coated nothings into each others' ears. But the light of the setting sun revealed more than the love in our little friend's eyes...it also revealed a little (actually, quite big) something that the sculpted, silver-tongued young man left behind a few degrees north of her collarbone.
"what's that?" semi-serious asked? and, faithful reader, that was the end of the magic on that fateful evening by the sea.

The next day our little friend lamented her lasciviousness and her loss, but could not (no matter how hard your persistent penman pressed) come up with a reason for her lapse. Instead she bemoaned her semi-beloved's departure and cursed her folly.

When I finally found the fortitude to forego my fit of fun (at our fair little friend's expense), I was reminded of a bit of shakespeare that I had memorized in jr high that seemed particularly fitting under the circumstances. This passage comes from The Rape of Lucrece:

What win I if I gain the thing I seek?
A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy.
Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week?
Or sells eternity to get a toy?
For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy?
Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown,
Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down?

So enough with the olde english and alliteration. In this passage, Billy explains why so many of us are moral. In the end, who would destroy an entire vine in order to eat one grape? It seems like a foolish thing to do. And while it would be overstatement to accuse our little friend of such a gross misdemeanor, in a small way, that's exactly what she did. And it's the same thing so many of us do so often. We allow ourselves to live so much in the moment that we forget that life is made up of such moments. Life is, in fact, a compilation of millions and millions of moments, the vast majority of which mean almost nothing. But every now and then we come across moments that determine who we are. And in those moments, we simply cannot afford to sell eternity...no matter how shiny the toy.

Remember the time I ate a burrito the size of Cuba?

It's time once again for a few healthy eating tips from David the Dietician!*
(*note - David is not an actual "registered" dietician in the strictest sense of the word [if by "registered" you mean qualified in any way to give dietary advice], but just because he's never taken a dietetics class, read a dietetics book or [if you want to get technical] eaten an entire vegetable, doesn't mean he doesn't know enough about dietetics to have survived to the ripe age of 27. And if that's not enough, his sister is a dietician...and we're pretty sure these kinds of things are genetic.)

People approach me constantly and ask how it is that I maintain my fantastic figure while consuming a diet made up almost entirely of otter pops, corn dogs and Hostess products. They often marvel at the fact that I haven't intentionally consumed a so-called "vitamin" or "mineral" since 1972. I've always been one to give the public what it wants...and so in response to repeated and adamant inquiries, I've compiled this list of David Keithly's Do's and Don'ts of Dining Dietetically:

1. DO freeze your hoho's before eating. In addition to rendering them absolutely DELICIOUS, this quick and easy solution also helps to burn calories. Think about it - what is a calorie (also known as a megawatt)? It's the amount of energy it takes to raise 1 gram of water 1 degree celsius. So, in order to bring the temperature of the hoho up to a digestable level, your body will literally have to use at least (insert large number here) calories. The more you eat, the more calories you burn. Also, the colder the hoho, the more calories you burn. So, if you have one of those industrial strength freezers, or some liquid nitrogen, you can go ahead and throw away that gym pass.

2. DO NOT shop at Trader Joe's...unless you're buying their holiday caramel corn with peppermint and dark chocolate - OR the candy cane oreos. My reasons for a ban on Trader Joe's are almost too numerous to...um...number. For one - only tree-huggers shop at Trader Joe's. Secondly, they no longer carry the sugar-coated dried pineapples that were, for me, the only reason to enter the store outside of the holiday season. Finally - the word "organic" in Navajo actually means "death to the white man"...and while you may think it's worth the risk to go there and buy your vegan pork tenderloin, you'll thank me when the scalping begins.

3. DO skip breakfast. Contrary to popular belief...and the advice of so-called "experts", breakfast not only is the LEAST important meal of the day, it's also the only meal that was actually created by Satan himself. You'll find this somewhere in the Bible. Breakfast has been proven to increase energy levels and brain function early in the morning - and, let's face it - nobody likes a Spunky Sally before noon.

4. DO NOT, under any circumstances, eat mushrooms. Some people might argue that mushrooms are both safe and delicious - but the thing that they're not taking into consideration is that they're idiots. Mushrooms are deadly...I've lost dozens of friends to mushroom attacks in the last year alone. And while we're on the subject - who in their right mind would want to eat something that grows on urine soaked carpet if left untended? This one may require some explanation - back in the 80s (which was a horrible decade, but that's a story for another entry) we lived in a large house on a golf course. Now, because this house was fancy-shmancy, some misguided homebuilder decided to put carpet in the boys bathroom upstairs. With four boys regularly using the bathroom, and two of those boys under the age of 6, let's just say that the collective "aim" of the younger generation still required a bit of honing. As a result, occasionally urine would end up on the aforementioned carpet. One fateful day, I woke up and found my way to the bathroom to get ready for school. When I went to use the facilities, i looked down and saw that mushrooms (similar to the ones you crazies pay good money for at the store) had sprouted from the urine-soaked carpet. Now, I agree that carpet in bathrooms is a bad idea, especially in cases where at least 50% of the end users don't value "aim" - but on that day I learned a valuable lesson: mushrooms show up when your little brothers pee on the carpet. So the next time you're ordering that pizza and you're thinking - "ooh, mushrooms sound good"...I hope you remember this story - and remember that most mushrooms are made up of over 83% urine.

So, until next time - remember: frozen food is ALWAYS better (and better for you)...and beware the Indians at Trader Joe's.

Faith

Since I was a boy, I've believed that my life would end up a certain way. One day I would grow up and when I crossed that threshold into adulthood, there would be certain things just sitting around waiting for me - there would be a great job, a wife, a few kids, a couple of dogs (although I've never been crazy about them), a house with a white picket fence, and all the junk food I could possibly eat. For the longest time, this was more than some ethereal vision of what my life would some day be, I viewed these things with a sense of entitlement that defies comprehension. And yet part of me knew with near-perfect faith, that those things would one day be mine.
Now, had things worked out as I had envisioned, I certainly wouldn't have time to blog - what with all the kids and dogs and picket fences running around causing a ruckus. But since the only thing waiting for me when I crossed that threshold was the nearly unlimited supply of junk food, I find myself wifeless, kidless, dogless, houseless, and fenceless...with plenty of time to blog and plenty of questions about faith that need answering.
See, I always learned that faith meant believing in something you couldn't see that was true. I also learned that God loves all of his children and wants the best for them. So when you add the simplified version of faith with the idea of a loving God, you get my recipe for the ideal adult life. And the best part about it is that all you have to do to make it happen is believe (I feel a Disney song coming on)...and somehow all that belief travels to some metaphysical realm where's it's transformed into tangible reality and delivered back to you with a big red bow. Somehow I made it through quite a lot of my adolescence with this "faith is like an ez-bake oven" theory firmly entrenched in my mind. It wasn't until I grew up and didn't find my perfect life waiting that I really started to question this theory.
Now I realize that there are plenty of problems with the above theory...and I have neither the time, nor the energy to explore each of the many fallacies I happily ignored for all those years. But somewhere along the way, I started to doubt. I doubted my theory. I doubted the premises upon which I had based my theory...and ultimately I found myself in a decidedly unhappy place. I had developed a certain sense of entitlement...and like a spoiled child who doesn't get his way, I felt somehow betrayed when I wasn't given those things I felt entitled to. So there was a lot of complaining and mumuring and listening to whiny music...until I finally realized what it was I'd been missing.
This is extremely simple, but also extremely important, and disturbingly easy to forget or even miss altogether. The reason faith works, and the reason my ez-bake oven analogy didn't is that faith is a principle of action. So faith leads to miracles and all sorts of other fantastic things...and all because ordinary men and women find the courage and tenacity to step out of the realm of belief and into the realm of action.
So here's the moral of the story - the wife, the kids, the dogs, the house, the fence, the job, the candy...they're all out there...they're just waiting for you to stop waiting.

"Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition" - Alexander Smith

I remember one Valentine's day a few years ago when I was still in college. Since I'm a huge slacker, I was single at the time - but rather than sitting at home staring at the walls feeling sorry for myself, I decided to stop being such a bum and bring some Valentine's joy into the lives of some of the single ladies in my ward. I went to Sam's club and bought enough chocolate to feed a small army of single women, and went door to door bestowing boxes of chocolates and reciting poetry - like some strange love child of Cupid and Santa.
And so although it's a little impossible to deliver chocolate via blog - I can continue the tradition with a couple of my favorite poems. So here's a little reason to hope for everyone else who's sitting at home alone tonight...and a little reason to thank God for those who are lucky enough to find themselves in the arms of a lover.

Sonnet CXVI

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

--William Shakespeare

And perhaps my all-time favorite poem:

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

-- e. e. cummings

Have a very happy Valentine's Day!

Colorado

I recently spent a few days snowboarding in Colorado. Word to the wise - if you're planning snowboarding for three days in a row, it's a good idea to let your body know what's about to happen. Unfortunately, I gave my body no such warning. Surpringly enough, it's not the best idea to go for three months with your exercise consisting of playing guitar hero on "hard" and then suddenly expect your legs to cooperate on a double black diamond. I praise the heavens for Advil and Ben Gay...and had a fantastic trip! It snowed on the first day we were there so we got to board VAIL with 6-8 inches of fresh powder.

Other than the boarding, I'm going to say that the best part of our trip had to be the hotel room. If you're ever in a town called Frisco, you'll have to check out the Woods Inn. If you're lucky and you slip the receptionist a $20, they just might put you in room 201...and THAT, my friends is where the vacation begins. "I didn't know you could get that much animal hair onto one bedspread," you might say, but I wouldn't worry too much about that, you won't be getting much sleep on the sleep-defying mattress. You'll be thankful that the last guests left some coffee in the cups for you...and for the claustrophobic guest who's afraid of the "cozy" bathroom, they thought of that when they left the "ventilation hole" in the door. The adventure continues with the cable...which works like a dream provided you change the channel every 6.3 seconds...otherwise you may run into some trouble.

Here are a few pictures. We spent a little time in Denver too...but, trust me, you wouldn't want to see pictures of the Denverites. Colorado may have the lowest percentage of obese people (bravo!) but after spending some time there, I'm fairly certain that the ugly stick lives and works (and works hard) in Denver.