(Fuck, something has to go right in my life about now…)
Excusez-moi my F bomb, but after a certain amount of time, zero Fs are given.
I walked up to my wonderful words today, to see my story come true before my very eyes.
Yes, that is me, I am breaking smikg protocol and displaying myself for all (or am I, really, am I? 😉)
I participated in a wonderful initiative last year by submitting some works towards a community project… the writers club I am part of teamed up with the local shire to get writers to create a mini fiction, no more than 6 words, on the theme of community, to be drawn and displayed along the streets of Rosebud.
Why, having my words out there for all to see? How could I miss the opportunity!
After finding out yesterday that yes, it DID happen yesterday, I headed on down with Hubbie today to pinch myself.
You know what’s funny about that photo? The sun was shining DIRECTLY on the SHINE part, but the photo didn’t show the light and dark well so I got Hubbie to like, hug me from the side so that we could block out the sun… can you see his outline? 😂
I got a little teary, I won’t lie. I’ve been longing to be published in some form for so long. And even this, on the footpath, just 6 words… it makes me so happy. It’s given me the much-needed boost I’ve needed, in the midst of life difficulty, frustration with everything, and very regular bouts of writer’s insecurity, like “am I good enough?” “my writing isn’t as good as theirs,” and “who’s going to want to read this?”
But to be published, just once,anywhere… it’s broken the spell. It’s crashed through the dam of insecurity, of doubt, and now the water is crashing down, happy and unbridled and free, and it wants to do it all.
I can just stare at that, like ALL DAY.
I will enjoy this moment, and hold on, as much as I can.
***Big thanks to @rondelle for her fabulous artwork, and @peninsulawriters along with @mornpenartsandculture for this great opportunity to try and inspire. ***
You get a whole lot of time to actually catch up on stuff.
And it may not be things that you feel are necessarily important or even life-serving…
It can be something as simple as working out how to use Insta stories.
This thing has been bugging me for months now. Insta. In particular, insta stories, and the potentially and definitely mammoth amount of filters and options and links and tags and what have you that you can add onto them.
They’ve left me confused for so long, but yet I haven’t really tried to learn it either.
The Insta youtube tutorial. Oh yeah, I am such a dag right now.
But now, I KNOW! I’m a dag that knows!
I posted my first insta stories tonight, and even created a new Highlights reel on my page, woo hoo!
If you wish to check out what all my fuss is about (and see my stories, i.e. it’s food!) look up @smikgwriter
I have a whole collection of stuff I suddenly inherited (i.e. it was ceremoniously dumped here after my parents suddenly sold their house – or you could say I just failed to take it with me since I moved out of there 11 years ago 😬) that I’ve been slowly going through and checking out, for the past week or so.
There is a throw pile. Old bags, lots of school paperwork, dozens of plastic coin change bags (remember those?)
There is a donate pile. Think a glass chess set that I bought my Dad for a birthday, I think, which he never used… why did that end up with me again?
There is a maybe pile. Like these glass/photograph coasters, or that dancing sunflower with the saxophone that used to work on battery, but is struggling now…
There is a ‘whoops this isn’t mine better check with sis/parents’ pile. VHS tapes, some kind of charger?
Then there is the KEEP pile.
OMG, the keep pile. Loads and loads and loads and loads of PAPER STUFF.
Old diaries. School work. Reports. Assignments. I have so much, and I still have one big bag of folders to go through.
What kinds of memories have I found?
All my work payslips pre-2007. ALL OF THEM.
All my high school reports.
The letter my Jeans West Work Experience manager wrote back to my teacher when I was in year 10… “she learnt to apply herself in the time given, but she was a bit shy.”
Ha ha, so me.
Uni assignments, oooh, I’ve loved these. I have a script for a 5 minute film called Doggy Day that I wrote and planned myself. I have an interview I did on my Dad on his life and immigration to Australia which I got good marks for. An article about the RSPCA that I should have sought further help on to get publication, judging by my uni teacher’s comment in the notes. Damn, should have chased that one up.
And so many textual analyses of books and film, oh my goodness.
High school diaries and notes with Hubbie’s name written over them. 😍💖
Psychology, Philosophy, and Ancient History handouts.
My old work pass.
I opened one of my old diaries at whim, to see what day I’d end up on. One entry had me in 1999, 16 years old, where I had met with one of my oldest friends at our local milkbar and we’d ended up walking to the house of our primary school friend who we didn’t see much anymore.
I wrote how we had sat in her bedroom, it had been a bit weird at first but then we’d relaxed and it had turned into the good ol’ days and all the memories we shared.
My 16 year-old self wrote how it was weird, a bit sad, that someone we used to be so close to about five years earlier, we didn’t see much of at all anymore, and our conversations had turned to pleasantries and reminiscing of the past, rather than the stuff you typically share with your closest friends – “Did you hear what happened to her?” “Did you hear about the party last Friday?” – type thing.
And I observed in this diary, and wondered, if the friends I had then in high school, whether we would be like that one day, exchanging pleasantries and talking about the past as the only thing we could hold onto.
In 6 years time, would we be a bit awkward like that too?
I smiled. SmikG NOW smiled.
I smiled as I read, wanting to jump into the pages of my old diary and grab 16 year-old SmikG, grabbing her by the shoulders to shake her excitedly and tell her –
“Guess what? You stay friends with them ALL! A couple of them drop off, sure, but you’ll come to realise they weren’t real friends anyway!
Your true friends are still friends… not 6 years later, but even 21 years later!”
And 16 year-old me, would undoubtedly have gone –
And asked immediately –
“Who aren’t I friends with anymore?”
And this SmikG would have shook her head with a cluck cluck cluck and said.
“Dear girl… I think you already know.”
I’ve had so much fun going back in time, and it’s made me realise how much I’ve changed, but also, how much I am still exactly the same.
Still passionate about the written word, still writing stories, still experimenting in different forms, and still wondering about the future and life in general…
I wonder what SmikG 10 years from now would say to me now…
I’ve spent the last few months, both covid and life induced, getting re-acquainted with old loves.
Old TV shows. Old friends.
Just recently, something dropped on Netflix.
Sure, I have the ENTIRE DVD BOX SET at home.
But with our DVD player playing up, I kinda have to depend on Netflix for going back in time…
Today, feeling sorely and under the weather, I happily lapped up Dawson’s and friends!
That is, Dawson, Joey, Pacey and Jen. But I bet you knew that, because I bet you’ve watched it too, right?
I don’t know if this is just a ‘me’ thing, a ‘SmikG’ thing, but I watch and read things, and am usually casually without much effort, heavily critiquing and analysing the plot/characters/conflicts/dramas etc.
(You too? 🙄🤣)
So while I was happily enjoying the walk down memory lane tonight with Season 1 ep 1…
I was noticing the strong teenage themes already present in Scene 1.
Scene 2 grabs you when, well a seeming ‘monster’ grabs Joey from her sunning position on the deck, and pulls her into the water.
And there within the first few scenes, we know that Joey is secretly crushing on Dawson, he’s crushing on Jen, Jen has some weird thing going on at her grandma’s along with her mysterious past, and Pacey has set his sights on some new older woman in town who turns out to be his teacher…
And throw in some coming-of-age themes, lots of sex talk (cue Dawson walking in on his parents doing it on the coffee table) and suspicions of extra-martial affairs, and you have a hell of a lot of drama and conflicting intentions happening there!
Welcome to my film school. This all happens so naturally in my head.
Not taking notes. Really I’m not…
Anyway, I love these guys. And I’m excited about getting back to my creek roots.
Many months ago after Hubbie finished watching the first run-through of the Chicago Bulls/Michael Jordan Netflix doco “The Last Dance,” he turned to me and said – “I’d like you to watch this with me.”
“I mean, I’ve watched stuff for you…”
Back when we were dating, I got him to watch the ENTIRE ANGEL SERIES with me. Of course I had already watched the series, and cried and laughed (mostly cried, with regular gasps) through it all, but alas, what do you do when you really LOVE something?
You want to share it with someone.
Even if that person is not into that genre AT ALL. Like Hubbie. 😉
He went through all 5 seasons with me. 110 episodes. At about 42 minutes an ep, that equals 4,620 hours of vampires, supernatural beings, long ranging story-archs, and a whole lot of funky shit and demonic deaths.
And what did it amount to? He didn’t mind it… but his one line, which I’ll never forget… “It was okay… it’s just not my thing.”
Fast forward to 2020, the world of iso and lockdown and having your butt planted on the couch. I knew he had a very strong case when he asked me to watch “The Last Dance” with him. And at only 10 episodes at roughly 50 minutes each, amounting to 500 minutes, well, I wasn’t going to lose much time.
Especially being in iso.
You know, if he had asked me to watch something basketball-related all those years ago when we were dating, I probably wouldn’t have been interested.
But now, I am a different person. I am ready. And also I realise, it’s not just about basketball. It’s about so much more.
I get inspired by passion. By the greats. By unbelievable stories. By incredible feats of triumph.
And tonight, after only 2 episodes in, I can see this doco has it all.
I was actually spewing at the end, because it was left at a bit of a cliff hanger. And I was like “ohh, damn it I want to know what happens!”
The difference between SmikG in 2020, and Hubbie in let’s say, 2006, is that SmikG is ready.
Do you get where I’m heading???
I am genuinely loving this series, and can’t wait to watch more. Jordan is a maniac of the game and true basketball legend, GOAT, all of it, and if you don’t know what that means, look it up, or better yet watch the Netflix doco!
I am seriously thinking of reintroducing Hubbie to Angel… do you think he’ll bite? (Pun totally intended). 😈
The really sad thing about this lockdown is the unavoidable mental stress and anguish many people will experience in some form, without even knowing it.
I know, I’ve had a lot on my mind. But I didn’t realise how much, until I stepped out of my box today.
My box, being the house.
I had some errands to run, and the last of them was grabbing some things at the local safeway on our way home.
But I had a surprise up my sleeve.
I’d seen online that Ferguson Plarre had some decorate your own cookie kits for kids, where you got 6 shortbread biscuits with jam, lollies, sprinkles, smarties and icing, for you to decorate and dress them up as you like…
Dress them up for your belly!
It wasn’t just a last-minute surprise I wanted to spring on baby girl. I wasn’t sure if they would have any of these kits left… but sure enough, I was lucky.
Baby girl literally squealed and jumped up and down on the spot as I bought it.
She decorated her heart out.
We sat together as she used three types of icing, placed lollies on the cookie, placed lollies in her mouth, ate a couple smarties, put some on the cookie, then ate a whole lot more.
Then she tipped over the sprinkles on the floor, but, eh.
(Note to parents, never leave an open sprinkles container on the edge of a table).
But she was happy. I was happy. Was it the do-it-yourself cookies? The takeaway coffee, with caffeine suddenly coursing through my veins?
It was a bit of both. But I had placed it already.
Baby girl and I had been out. We had been normal. I’d had a change of scenery, and without realising it at the time, it had meant the world to me.
I hope you’re all doing okay out there. And it’s okay if you’re not.
Just do what you can. Day by day. We’re all getting through this.
You may feel alone, but know that we are all alone, together.
This sucks for us ALL.
And if the opportunity presents… try to throw as many sprinkles into your life as you can.
We all need that shit as much as possible right now.
Lucky for me, I somehow forecast this crap ( I have become strongly accustomed to expecting all kinds of shit, yes even for this glass half-full gratitude gal) and last week when baby girl was at school, came across this $16 puzzle at ‘the cheap shop.’
You know, ‘the cheap shop.’ That budget dollar shop where you’ll find onesies, kitchen accessories, cat litter bags, 50 cent greeting cards, 57 different variety of candles, a range of quirky homewares you think you need (but really you don’t) and also, some kind of party/decorating station in one corner of the shop.
All at below reasonable prices.
It was here I went “a puzzle might come in handy soon.”
And I had to get the most trickiest one yet.
A billion cat faces, mwa ha ha.
It meant that today, we had to pack up the completed Frozen puzzle that’s adorned our dining room table for the past several weeks.
If you find and follow me on Insta, you’ll see the delicious anti-OCD video action.
Anyway, we learnt upon opening it tonight that it’s split up into 6 categories… that is, A, B, C, D, E and F. Those letters are at the back of each puzzle piece, so by sorting them alphabetically, well half the work is kinda done.
Such a great idea. Well, we better get cracking then…
I feel terrible for all the businesses out there suffering through this uncertain and indefinite period.
I look around the town that I love, and I feel even more sad.
Because it’s these small businesses that make my town, what it is.
Sure, people will flock and spend and visit and book things once this all blows over, but that could be months away… meanwhile, how do these places stay afloat?
Keep employees paid?
Keep paying rent?
Keep making money amidst further lockdowns, bans and imposed isolation to ALL?
I’ve been happy to see many businesses going online, getting creative and thinking of other ways to get their business out to people who can’t get out anymore.
Really if you think about it, this is kind of the best time in history that we could have this kind of pandemic. Because even though we may not be able to get out in public…
We can still get out and about online.
I’ve made a concerted decision lately that I will be one of many out there, to support local business. I don’t want the people who make this beautiful part of the world so unique and great, to go under, and I want to make sure they know they are supported, while also trying to send the really strong and important message…
Buy local. Wherever you are. Support small business. Keep them afloat. And tell your friends about it too.
Which is what I am here to do. 😉
First on one of my many support locals list… Kirks.
Of course, FOOD.
We have been there heaps of times before, (check out my Food Review from a while ago), it is a local favourite on the Esplanade, and no matter what, we seem to gravitate there, again and again.
They recently released a takeaway/delivery menu in the midst of no more in-dining within their restaurant, and I have to say –
WE WERE EXCITED.
Tonight we got a different kind of food delivery!
Instead of your basic pizza, or fish and chips, or drive-through, it was:
Prawn and Zucchini Risotto
Chicken nuggets and chips (for baby girl – okay kind of takeaway staple!)
and because we got two main meals in there, we were able to get a bottle of wine for $5.
It’s only the beginning of my loving local and helping local list, so stay tuned…
It’s going to be a big ride. Let’s get ready for the long haul.
And on an aside, it was Zoom night, part 2…
As we caught up with sis and bro-in-law!
Who said isolated Saturday nights were going to be boring? Like hell they are!