On Xmas Day

I’m not feeling it this year. The whole Christmas thing. My family is scattered, I can’t be with everyone I love, and my TV blackout for most of the year has contributed to not being subjected to a barrage of xmas ads and feel-good shows like Charlie Brown’s Christmas and Rudolph (“I want to be a Den-tist!”). This might be a good thing, but stuff like that usually gives me the end-of-the-year warm fuzzy xmas vibe, and I’m just not getting it this year.

Ah well. So in the spirit of not feeling like it’s Christmas time, Shannon and I are going to spend Xmas day watching 80s movies. A Festival of Legwarmers and Frankie Say Relax shirts, if you will 🙂

So far on tap, we’ve got:

Dudes – a cheesy fave of mine

Night of the Comet – yet another fave, featuring zombies and epic shopping.

Terminator – because 80s movies don’t get any better than this.

Breakfast Club – Shannon’s request.

And that’s all I’ve thought up. Could use some recommendations though 🙂 We’re just watching stuff I already have on hand because I hate going to Blockbuster. So here’s a list of movies I have. Tell me in comments, or tweet at me what I should add. Thanks for your help 😀

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Dad

When I came home from my job at a meat-packing plant (ugh, don’t ask, it was a long time ago) on this day, December 21st, I got a call from my aunt telling me that my dad had been taken to hospital. He’d collapsed at home. She told me to stay home and wait for news.

So I waited. And waited. I cleaned things. I remember installing some kind of shelf in the kitchen. I paced. Then a knock on the door. I opened it to find my Aunt standing there. She’d been crying. The first thing she said was, “We lost him.” He was 45 years-old.

I haven’t thought about that day in years. He passed away on December 21, 1992. And the passage of time has indeed done its healing thing. I think about him a lot though. He was my dad all too briefly. My mom fell in love with him when he moved in next door to us when I was seven. So, technically, my mom married the boy next door 🙂 He was awesome too. A great father, funny guy, passionate about oldies music, devoted to his family and even though he was my stepfather, I never referred to him as such until I had to start explaining how I was related to him after I met my equally awesome and cool biological father. It gets complicated 🙂

I changed my name from Gleason, which is my birth name, to Romanski – his name – when I was 10 as a birthday gift for him and I’m damn proud to still be a Romanski, if only in name and not by heritage.

Anyway, I wanted to remember him today by telling one of my favourite stories about him – of which there are many 🙂

When we lived in Council Bluffs, IA for a time, my parents had joined a bowling league. Sometimes my sister and I would go with them and watch or play in the arcade etc. while the adults bowled. But on one particular occasion, I was home babysitting Kelly and enjoying having total control of the TV 🙂 I was just about to make some popcorn and enjoy an evening of MTV when the door opened and i walked my parents way too early.

Puzzled, I asked what they were doing home. As I said this dad had scurried off to their bedroom while my mother was doing her best to to break out laughing. I remember grinning and asking again why they were home so early. Then my dad came out, looking sheepish, and said that he had torn his jeans.

I asked if he fell or something.

“No. Hehehe. I was about to bowl, and as I took a step I heard a *RRRRIIIIP* and then felt a breeze where there should be no breeze.”

I stifled a giggle. He went on to explain that his jeans were perhaps a touch too tight, and that when he took the big Bowler’s step, they split at the seem, exposing his tighty-whiteys to the entire league. but the best part of the story is what he did next. He did not try and slink away in shame. Oh no, not my dad 🙂 After freezing for a moment, probably trying to decide how best to proceed, in typical ‘that’s my dad’ fashion, he turned around and faced everyone in the league, and did a little jig.

Everyone laughed and my mom was giggling all the way home. I love this story 🙂

That’s my dad.

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Farewell to Ficlets (1.0 Anyway)

One of the best websites I ever discovered is ficlets.com. It’s a site that’s almost Twitter-like with its constraints. The idea was to write a little story but you were limited to 1,024 characters. That’s not much. The beauty of it was that other writers could prequel or sequel your story, or if you just couldn’t contain it in one ficlet, then you could create a serial.

The site totally re-energized my writing fever. I’d been in a slump, lacking the will to just get on with it. If you know me or have read this blog for a while, you’ll know that I would love to write a novel some day. But one thing or another comes up and I just get away from it.

Ficlets was amazing. It helped me focus. It taught me how to tell a story in a short space and forced me to get creative with imagery and word use. The generous and lovely feedback from an awesome community of Ficleteers helped me dream up the first idea I’ve ever had that I thought was actually viable as a novel-length story (I have trouble getting past short story stage.)

But the mastermind behind Ficlets had to leave the project and it was left to languish. Though he tried valiantly to save it from extinction, AOL refused to let development on it continue for whatever reason. Probably because it didn’t make them any money. (Do people really still use AOL?)

They are working on Ficlets-inspired site though, outside the AOL realm, and that makes me happy because I dearly loved that place. So I thought I’d post a few of the Ficlets I really liked here. The rest will be saved somewhere on my hard drive and maybe serve as future novel ideas 🙂 Oh and I often hear a song and dream up a story behind it, so a lot of my little ficlets were inspired by good tunes.

—

She

She is benediction

He caught a glimpse of her at the party. She moved with a liquid grace that called to mind a lithe tigress on the hunt. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for her prey and when her gaze fell on him, he shivered.

She is addicted to thee

She watched him throughout the night. The way he laughed with his friends, the tousled hair and dancing eyes; his elegant clothing doing little to hide the strength and cut of his body. She wanted him. She focused her attention only on him.

She is the root connection

He took every opportunity to watch her. Every time their eyes met, neither could look away without some distraction to tear them apart. An anxious host refilling their drinks, or potential suitors trying their luck on the handsome pair. He shook off the host and moved towards her.

She is connecting with he

The air fairly crackled with energy. He reached for her hand and drew her close. He whispered in her ear, “Have you called to check on the kids hon?”

—

The Last Journal of Major Tom

Oh God I’m going to die up here. Alone. Surrounded by so much silence it’s deafening. They never prepared me for the quiet.

They think I’m already gone. My wife, my children, the world… They’re mourning me right now. Would it be better or worse if they knew I was still alive? Probably worse. Impossible situation. There’s nothing they can do to save me. I’m stranded in this tin can. Infinite space and everything in it laid out before me and I’ve never felt so alone in my life.

It is beautiful though. Cathy my love… I hope you continue to look up at the stars like we did when we were kids. Remember what dreamers we were? Don’t look up and worry about me floating out here. I’ll… I’ll be gone.

I’m passing over the states honey, as I write this. It feels like I’m looking in on you and the kids one more time, making sure you’ll be okay. Don’t cry for me. The oxygen won’t last much longer and when it’s gone, it will be like going to sleep.

And I’ll go to sleep loving you with my last breath.

Goodbye.

—

The Strays

They marched into the neighbourhood with the pulse-pounding beat of a terrible rhythm. Hundreds of jack-booted soldiers poured in from every street, every alley. Restless eyes rolled in their sockets, searching for the strays that had eluded them.

Three children, filthy from a brief life of scrabbling for scraps huddled behind a dumpster. They whimpered quietly, unsure of where to hide but seeking the comfort of a barrier between them and the soldiers. Vague memories came to them of being tucked safely into their beds by beautiful women who filled them with love and safety. The memories only served to increase the terror now. Love and safety were gone, taken by the very soldiers who hunted them now.

The children felt them first. Waves of hatred infiltrated their natural defenses and permeated their minds. The soldiers had stopped their deadly march and stood still like dispassionate sentinels. As if they were one, they shut their eyes and pushed their energy outward.

The children cowered.

—

Mmmmmmm…

I looked at it carefully, suspiciously even. I’ve never tried this before. I’m unsure what my reaction will be. Will I like it? Will it disgust me? Will it be worth the price I paid?

Warily, I open my mouth. My eyes close and I begin to pass judgment on the first taste.

I’ve never felt such smoothness on my tongue. I immediately swirl it around and breathe deep. It slides and glides over my taste buds like a sensuous lover. As I slowly savour, the rich flavour infiltrates every crevice, every hidden corner of my mouth before slipping down my throat. It leaves a satisfying coolness behind like an echo. I shiver and offer up a slight smile and a satisfied, “Mmmmmm” to no one in particular, before taking more.

Another bite. Another burst of near-ecstasy. Another shiver.

I want more. I need more. So smooth. So rich.

But all too soon the little cup is empty and I’m resigned to licking the little foil top, wishing to lap up every molecule of that delicious chocolate pudding.

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Tidying up the mess :)

Going to be reworking this blog a bit. It was time to update the header and I might redo the columns a little. I think I went widget-happy 🙂

Believe it or not, this is relaxing for me, mucking about in code and photoshop, throwing things in a figurative bucket and seeing what comes out. Work’s a bit… tightly wound right now with a big redesign due in less than 2 weeks and xmas stress (everyone else is stressing. Not me. Xmas is gonna be soooo mellow this year, I can’t wait.)

Anyway can’t write much atm, but cross your fingers for decent weather Saturday so we can go to Lincs and see Jo and fam. last time we attempted it this time of year, we spent some quality time in a ditch just outside of town 🙂 If it wasn’t frowned upon these days, I would so buy a little SUV that can handle it around here. Ah well.

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Blog-Blocked

I’m trapped between having an urge to post, and then not being able to think about anything I can write about. Someone said to me today that they like the “I Write What I Like” philosophy of Steve Biko. I like that too. I should be able to write what I like, within reason of course, I mean my family reads this thing, hehe. So I should probably at least keep it clean.

Ah fuck it, maybe I won’t. You guys know what I’m like, so you can skim past the bits that might bore you 🙂

I’ve had some ‘splaining to do on my last post. What it boiled down to is I’ve met someone. I wasn’t looking. A relationship was the furthest thing from my mind, for many reasons. But something wonderful happened one day, unexpectedly, and these days I could not be happier. He makes me absolutely soar in ways I’ve never known before and well, at the risk of sounding like a.. like a girl, I love him. Plain and simple. I never expected to feel this way again, I mean I’ve had my shots at the love thing and they were all wonderful, and I’m a lucky girl for getting to have those feelings for someone more than once.

But this time something’s different. Something’s just better and I’m positively jangling with so many overwhelming emotions, constantly, that it’s hard to keep a lid on it sometimes.

And hopefully that’s more of an explanation that some of you cared to hear, but I write what I like 🙂

Aside from the love thang, there are other parts of my life that aren’t too shabby either. My brilliant daughter may be able to go to a good university on a full-ride scholarship where she can pursue her dream of being a teacher. She’s extremely passionate about it and I’m so proud of her.

Work is fun. Stressy stressy fun but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Never have I had such a fulfilling job and I’m damn lucky to get to do what I love to do, and to have the freedom to do it.

And soon (too soon, I still have to shop!) it will be xmas and we get to go to Lincoln this weekend to see Aunty Jo and fam whom I have not seen for aaaaaaaages. I can’t wait.

You know, now that I think about it, this is sort of a rundown of things that I’m happy about, which is an exercise Wil Wheaton posted yesterday. Basically you think of something that makes you happy right now. Then another and then another. You can get on a roll, so the challenge is to just pick three. Ok, so I listed four here, but man, prioritizing happiness is haaaaaaaard. It’s just all good right now.

Ok my fingers are frozen (very cold in NebbyLand past few days) so I’m off to bed. Blogging regularly will resume because I FEEL the mood upon me, hehe (TESTIFY!) 🙂

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Coffee good

I haven’t been sleeping much lately. Not because I’m still all broody from my last post though. No, I’m good. Holidays can be wonderful things, but they can also make you a bit sad, but it’s only now and then. No, I’m not sleeping much due to excessive elation.

I seem to have found myself in a situation I never expected to be in. I wasn’t aiming for it, it just happened. In fact, I was just minding my own business, going about my days, doing my thing. You know how it is. And then wham! Everything flips, life changes, and suddenly all things are different. All things are better. The days seem brighter, things that should make you angry just don’t (I’m looking at you kiddo and your first warning from the cops who pulled you over tonight), food tastes better and so help me, coffee is the nectar of the gods.

Ahhh I wish I could go into details, but now isn’t the time. I am happy. Happier than I thought I could ever be, and before I make everyone reading this throw up, I will shut up 🙂 I just wanted to write it down so I can look back one day and remember this amazing feeling.

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Holidays

I don’t know why, but this year seems particularly tough as far as getting through family-type events. I miss my mom. I alternately miss her and I’m terribly afraid that I’m going to die unexpectedly young. I’ve never talked about that before but I’m trying a new thing where I write without editing myself. So whatever pours out of my head is what’s getting published here.

This is what I think about when I’m sitting in a quiet house late in the evening. Not all the time of course, but this time of year, it seems to creep up. It’s the holidays. I love them and I hate them. Christmas for me, growing up, was always – always – about being with my family and all of our silly little traditions. Dad would let my sister and I open one present on Christmas eve, but the rest were for Christmas morning. We’d have a nice dinner xmas eve (in later years this somehow included oyster stew which I never understood) and then I’d spend a sleepless night waiting for the earliest possible moment when I could wake up the parents and see what “Santa” brought.

Santa brought pressies for us kids until we were 18 😉

Don’t get me wrong, presents were nice, but what I loved most was Christmas morning. The smell of coffee going, and mom would be frying up bacon and making french toast. We’d all just hang out in our PJs and sit around the tree and slowly savour taking turns opening gifts. It lasted for hours and it was all of us, the dog and the cat just hanging, laughing and being a family. Dad would present mom with her annual gifts of her favourite perfume and the most current copy of Writer’s Market (she was always trying to sell her stories to magazines etc.)

After the gifting stuff was done, Kelly and I would spend the day playing with the new stuff or modeling the new clothes. Maybe we’d see friends, or if extended family was in town we’d be getting ready for you usual traditional xmas day dinner.

I miss this terribly. I never worried or thought about death much growing up. Never had to face it. I lost pets of course, a couple of them quite tragically. But that doesn’t prepare you for losing your parents. The first funeral I ever went to in my whole life was my mother’s. Mom wouldn’t have any kind of service for Dad when he died. She just couldn’t face it. They had the Big Love, forever kind of stuff and losing him changed her. She never so much as dated after he died. And she died alone. She had a stupid pulmonary embolism that killed her on the floor in her living room and if she hadn’t been able to make it to the phone to at least dial 911, she would have lain there all day until one of us stopped by to visit.

I don’t know where I’m going with this. Not sure I had a point. Just that it feels like the holidays will be harder than usual this year and I’m not sure why. There are people who are worse off than I am – by far. I shouldn’t bitch. I have people who love me and whom I love. Maybe thinking about that will get me through it. And I will be fine during the brunch my Gran is planning and during the trip we hope to make to Lincoln soon to see Jo and the gang there. I’m sure this is just melancholy brooding. It happens sometimes.

So I may hate Christmas for making me feel like this and love it for the times I got to spend happily laughing away with Mom and Dad and Kelly. It’s not like I’d rather not celebrate the whole ‘being with those you love’ aspect of Christmas. I have Shannon, and family to make more good memories with. And it will be fine.

And I should go to bed now.

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