Just A Little Love Story
- At September 11, 2014
- By Roxanne Snopek
- In Life, Roxanne Writes On
- 2
The Best Things About Sweet Romance
You’ve caught that bug. The Virus. You know the one. It’s been going around, the “common cold” germ that sets up shop inside your body like rats in a condemned building, leaving you to spend your nights hacking up your lungs, trying to breathe through the pin-hole that is your “good” nostril, swigging the four-years-past-due-date cough medicine you found at 2 am, wondering how long it would take for your family to notice your dead body on the bathroom floor.
The virus your doctor tells you with a gentle smile is “just a cold,” inciting a deep desire to French-kiss his eyeball and see how he feels about it then.
You know, of course, that there are a gazillion people with “real” illnesses and problems far worse than yours. And after seven-to-ten days, once you’ve more than a sliver of mucus-free brain to work with, you’ll be ready to take on the world again.
For now, though, you need happy, healing thoughts.
And would it kill someone to bring you a cup of tea, maybe a hug? Care? Just a little?
Whether it’s a bad cold or a bad day, a break-up, or a break-down, a flood, a fire, a flat tire, we all go through times when we’re running on fumes and what we need most is to surround ourselves with happy, healing thoughts and feel cared for, just a little.
For me, the answer is full-on immersion in a fictional world that’s bright, pretty, kind and most of all, hopeful, ie: sweet romances. Such stories don’t pretend the world is some magical place of utopian, possibly narcotic-induced hysterical perfection. But the focus is on the light, not the dark. On overcoming, not suffering. A fresh breath at dawn, not the midnight congestion.
Tender romances gently remind me that I too, can get through hard, lonely times, that I too, can overcome my flaws and be a better person, that a smile, a hug, an embrace, can make a world of difference, for the giver and the receiver.
That I too, can survive this virus and go on to lead a full, normal life.
Sweet love stories: a literary cup of happy, healing tea.
I’m feeling better. How about you?
Roxanne’s Glimpse of The Matrix
- At June 12, 2014
- By Roxanne Snopek
- In Life, Roxanne Writes On
- 5
Or Why I Hate Technology.
So last week, I started having some trouble getting online with my desktop computer. This is my main brain, and the fact that I’m so dependent on something I understand so poorly makes me very uncomfortable. Paranoid, even. Technology bothers me, like a splinter in my mind.
Then the new printer quit.
Then none of the networked laptops could get online.
It was horrible. Like being dropped back into the seventies, onto a big black dial phone that won’t stop ringing. I couldn’t Tweet or Like or Share. I couldn’t even send an email to explain that I Couldn’t SEND AN EMAIL. So now that I can again, I thought I’d explain to those of you who follow me (yes, both of you!) why I disappeared temporarily.
I did all the usual things to fix it: restart computer, unplug and replug router, push buttons on modem, bang hands on desk. Nothing worked. So I sent an urgent Hail Mary SOS to Morpheus, our computer technician. After two hours – and this guy is good – he shook his head and said Something Very Bad and Unusual Occurred and you may be Totally Technologically Screwed. Apologies for the jargon.
Yay. Did I mention that our old cordless phones have 3 seconds of charge, making them useful only for screening our vacation winnings, and that I communicate almost entirely by email? (Of course I use Pinkie, my iPhone 4, but she lives a fairly sheltered life. I don’t want to stress her out.)
So the next morning, I put Pinkie on speaker and called my internet service provider. After about an hour of clicking and pointing and whatnot, they told me “everything’s JUST FINE on our end. It’s your router.” So I followed the White Rabbit…
…to the router customer service number. I attempted to interpret the polite instructions of our call-center representative. I have to say, she pulled out all the stops. But after another hour of various machinations, including standing in the closet, plugging a five-pound laptop into the too-high router, with a too-short cable, then balancing it on my shoulder, while my daughter typed in commands above her head, all she could tell us is that “it’s not us. It must be them.”
So I called my provider back. I think they could hear my eyes spinning over the phone because they hastily agreed to send a technician out first thing in the morning.
Long story short, after replacing the modem, the router, a bunch of cords and plugs and whatnot, it was discovered (not by me) that a cable doohickey from 12 years ago had cracked or something.
So everything’s just fine.
Well. Something won’t stop twitching in my forehead. But at least I’m online again.
Good Morning, Deer!
We see deer in our neighbourhood often. But it’s always a lovely surprise to see them close-up. Mama Deer is actually watching them from our patio, but I don’t know this yet.
Oh wait! There she is!
It really sucks taking photos through a window. But if I draw attention to them by a) saying “Look! Deer!” or b) Opening the door for a better look, I’ll tip off the dogs, who will promptly lose their teeny-tiny minds. And the deer disappear. Disdainfully, after a few moments of teasing them. “You?!? Want to chase us?! Good luck.” So I quietly take photos through the window with my iPhone.
Mama? Wait up!
Who’s there??
Never mind. I have an itchy bum.
Kids. Let’s go. Bye. I’m leaving now. Seriously, I’ll go without you. I will.
And enough with the bum already! You have a tapeworm. Deal with it.