Thursday, November 24, 2011

Happy Thanksgiving

Here is the Thanksgiving special as promised! :0  Please, enjoy.


                “Francis,” Sem said as he leaned against the breakfast bar of a very nice-looking kitchen.  Sem was dressed in a black suit with a teal dress shirt underneath, nicely contrasting against his bronzed skin.  The young-looking man’s mouth was drawn in a bit of a frown as he watched a certain skeletal chef race around the kitchen.  “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
                The skeleton shook his head, not even looking in Sem’s direction as he bent down to get some dishes from out of a cupboard.  The skeleton was clad in only an apron and his bony feet clacked against the polished oak floors.  Of course he declined to receive help.  He always did.  Thanksgiving was Captain Francis Bellefluer’s holiday.  Well, aside from Halloween.  But Thanksgiving was a close second on the captain’s list of favorite holidays.  He always insisted on hosting Thanksgiving at his New York city flat.  There was one year where Sem tried hosting it and it ended with Francis in a catatonic state caused by severe depression.
                Sem knew better than to ask. He had learned many, many, many years ago that Francis would decline any help.  One year all Sem did was bring a dish of candied yams and, well, it left Francis in a catatonic state caused by severe depression.  Sighing, Sem absentmindedly fiddled with the snow-white streak in the fringe of his otherwise dark hair.  He watched as Francis pulled a very perfect-looking turkey out of the oven, setting it next to the rest of the food.  It was a small turkey, and there wasn’t nearly as much food as one would expect to see at Thanksgiving.  Only four people were coming together at this dinner, and one of them couldn’t even eat.
                Francis finally gave Sem and nodded once, a sign that dinner was ready to be served.  Sem wandered off to find wherever Sorena had wandered off to in the medium-sized flat.  He could sense her upstairs and so that’s where he went.  The ancient woman was in the small library Francis had.  It was filled with all sorts of books, some new, but most were very, very, old.  In fact, Sorena was holding one very old book that Sem was half-sure was said to be lost to history.
                “Who could understand any of this rubbish?” Sorena asked, snapping the priceless tome shut and casually tossing it to the side.  “Whoever wrote that was mad.”
                Sem said nothing, only smiling softly at Sorena as she turned around.  She had really stepped out this year.  Sem had been able to convince her to do away with her typical witch outfit of horrors for just that night in favor of a blue, stretch-velvet dress.  Her silvery hair was still a bit wild, but Sorena was looking better than she had in years. 
                “Dinner’s ready,” he told her.
                “I’ll be right down,” Sorena muttered as she trailed her finger along a shelf of books, mouthing their titles.
                “You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Sem said lightly as he walked out of the room and descended the stairs.  He glanced at his silver watch just as it turned six o’ clock.  Within seconds a clock chimed somewhere in the house.  Everything was all set at the table as well.  Francis was always ready at exactly six.
                Just as Sem was wondering where the fourth person to their little get-together was the doorbell rang.  Volunteering to get it, Sem walked to the door and opened it.  Standing outside was a young woman with raven black hair, porcelain skin, and midnight-blue eyes.  She was tall, especially in the heels she wore, and there was a certain feel to her as you caught site of her cocky grin.  The young woman was dressed in a red cocktail dress and red shoes.  A diamond necklace with matching earrings and bracelet accompanied the simple yet polished look.
                “Lysis,” Sem greeted her, opening his arms.  “Nice dress.”
                “Hey, babe,” Lysis said, accepting the embrace before stepping inside of the home.  “How’s my little emo?” she asked him.  It was then that Sem noticed the bottle that was cradled in the crook of Lysis’ right arm.
                “What is that?”
                “Pinot noir,” Lysis answered simply.  “1999.”
                “Francis already picked out all the wine for the dinner,” Sem murmured to the young woman.  He didn’t want their skeletal friend to overhear.
                “Please, one of the very last things Francis has is a sense of taste,” Lysis said airily as she looked around at the décor of the home, making it fairly obvious that she wasn’t just talking about taste buds.
                “He’s a master chef, so I would trust his opinion,” Sem pointed out.
                Lysis lowered her voice, but she seemed a bit amused.  “What is the big deal?  It’s just some wine.”
                This was the first Thanksgiving dinner Lysis had been invited to - for centuries it had mostly just been Sem, Sorena, and Francis.  Sometimes Alphard would join them but very rarely did he do so.  Since this was Lysis’ first dinner with them she really didn’t understand the implications of what she had done.
                “You don’t understand,” Sem said.  “He’ll get very offended if he sees it - if he even catches a whiff of that-“
                “He has no nose, dear,” Lysis butt-in, pointing out that Francis did indeed lack a nose.
                “He doesn’t have eyes either but he can still manage to see just fine,” Sem whispered as they got nearer to the kitchen.
                “Fine!” Lysis whispered as she quickly shoved the bottle into an antique vase, muttering to herself.  “Freakish undead monstrosi- Francis, darling!” she exclaimed as he suddenly came around the corner.  She embraced him as un-awkwardly as one could embrace a skeleton.  He had very quickly changed into a suit himself for the dinner.  “Thanks for the invite,” she winked.  “Finally you all can start having some fun.  God knows what you’ve been doing with yourselves before I came along.”
                “Oh, so you did manage to make it?” Sorena said as she entered the kitchen behind them.  “I was hoping for a canceled flight or a car bomb to stop you.”
                Lysis ignored what the old woman had said for a moment, taking in her sudden new appearance.  “You finally realized that not every day is Halloween, I see,” Lysis commented.  “I hate to say it but you do look very nice in that.”
                Sorena blinked several times, expecting the need to shoot back at Lysis with some sort of retort like she usually had to, but not this time.  This time Lysis had actually said something nice to her.  “What you’re wearing suits you as well I suppose,” Sorena managed to say.  She wasn’t quite ready to be nice just yet.  That and she actually really didn’t know what did or didn’t look good on people, so she just trusted that Lysis’ vanity dressed her in a way that was phenomenal.
                Francis quickly herded everyone to the table and sat them down.  Sem and Lysis sat across from Sorena and Francis respectively.
                “Rosé?” Lysis questioned at one of the bottles that was before her on the table, glancing a bit longingly at the vase that contained the wine she had brought.  Instead of the Rosé though, Francis began pouring a different wine into everyones’ glasses.  Lysis quickly noticed that the wine being poured was also Pinot noir.  Sorena’s had very little wine in it – an amount that was deemed a safe amount to give to a very powerful sorceress who didn’t always seemed to have her head on straight.
 Before digging in to eat Francis explained to Lysis via sign language everyone would go around and say what they were thankful for.
                “Well, I pretty much say the same thing every year,” Sem started.  “But I’m thankful for all of you.  As you get older you realize that good friends and relationships are the true treasures one accumulates in life.”
                Sorena was up next.  “I am thankful for, well… most of you,” she said as she glared at Lysis.  That was all she had to say.
                Francis, again using sign language, explained that he was also thankful for the people in his life, counting them among his many blessings.  He went on to talk about the smiling faces he saw at the shelters the earlier that day as he helped pass out Thanksgiving meals to the homeless and those in need.  He was disguised, of course, but it still warmed his heart that so many people’s days were made by single acts of kindness.  He went on and on about other things and finally after five minutes he was finished.  Everyone had pretty much said they were thankful for people in their lives, very touching things to say.
                “I am thankful for this wine,” Lysis commented, pointing to her glass.  “And so that I don’t seem entirely detached and cold-blooded - I am thankful for all of you as well, believe it or not.  You’re like the freakish family who never wanted me but whom I forced myself into anyway.”
                At that everyone said “Cheers!” and clinked their glasses together.
                As everyone began serving themselves Lysis quickly excused herself, fetching her bottle of wine since Francis was serving the same thing.  “You all might want to try this,” she said as she sat back down at the table, uncorking the bottle.  “It’s got a few more years on what Francis is serving.  It’ll taste lovely.”  She was a bit pre-occupied pouring herself some of her wine to notice Sem’s expression.  The young-looking man’s eyes shifted between Lysis and Francis.  Even Sorena had taken notice to something very wrong having just happened.
                “I’d pour you some, dear, but you’re not really capable of drinking,” Lysis said to the unmoving skeleton.  “Francis?” she said his name again, but he wasn’t responding.  His empty gaze was aimed just straight ahead, his hands resting lightly on the table.
                “You’ve done it now,” Sorena said, unable to help a smile from forming on her lips.  “You’ve officially ruined your first Thanksgiving with us.  We haven’t even started eating yet!”
                “Shut up, hag,” Lysis said casually as she prodded the undead captain.  Nothing.  No response.  “Come on, Francis.  If you want I’ll put this away and we can have some of that watered down Rosé of yours. “
                At this Francis’ head crashed forward onto his empty plate, breaking it.
                Silence.
                “Well, now what?” Lysis asked, the hint of a smile on her face still. 
                “We’ll have to carry him up to his bed, surround him in some of his favorite things, and tell him how much he means to us every couple minutes.  He’ll come back around in a little while… hopefully,” Sem explained.  He got up and scooped the catatonic pile of bones into his arms and went down the hall towards the stairs.  Lysis and Sorena followed behind him.
                “I very much hope this means that you won’t be invited next year,” Sorena said out loud.
                “Almost like how I very much hope for the day when you finally drop dead.  How old are you again?  Eight hundred and fifty?  Could be any day now,” Lysis chimed.
                Happy Thanksgiving indeed.
 ©2011 James Curry a.k.a Sem

Happy Thanksgiving to all my readers, even those who don't celebrate the holidaySince my family is out of town this week I've spent Thanksgiving by myself, so I had time to write this.  Thankfully I celebrated Thanksgiving on Monday with about fifteen or so friends of mine - who knew I'd grow to be so popular?  It was a lot of fun.  I spent half the time cleaning up but I was having fun just watching everyone else have fun - plus it was sort of my fault since I declined any help.

I was also with my old people today so that was nice.  Yes, "my" old people.  They are my possessions.  They don't mind.  I may not like my job much but it makes me feel good when they compliment me, and I feel good being able to do things for them.  Just the little things, the little things that matter just as much as the big things but don't have as much priority.  They notice it just the same, so it's good to keep that in mind - there's always someone who notices.

Anyway, like everyone in the story, I'm simply thankful for the people in my life.  I feel blessed to have them and I honestly couldn't have imagined it two years ago.  As much as I make myself out to be entirely obsessed with the material things, and I do like them to a degree, I'm just happy to have new friends along with my old friends, my family, and good times, and maybe I'm even happy to have my dog.  Just for today at least.

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Poker Face

It's been almost a month since my last update, which is so fail.  Where's the Halloween special I promised?  Well,  it's sitting on my hard drive half-finished.  Maybe I'll just let it brew until next year and start on the Thanksgiving special instead.  We'll see.

Anyway, quite a lot has been happening lately, what with me being sick with some sort of flu for almost three weeks to the recent crisis we had this week, on top of my general personal issues.

I'd like to tell you that I just jump out of bed every morning as me, ready to take on the day, but I'm not like that at all.  I can't just wake up and seem as confident as I do to anyone who sees me when I'm out and about.  It takes a bit of preparation for me to sort of step into myself like one would step into a pair of shoes.  That isn't to say that what you see of me isn't real, it very much is, mostly.

Never in my life have I jumped out of bed, or even happily gotten out of bed.  Every morning starts with an "Oh, God," and a bemoaning sigh.  I have trouble getting to sleep, and some people may vehemently attest to the idea that I don't actually sleep ever.  But I do, usually it comes slowly, but once I'm there I'm the type of person that just doesn't want to get up.  Of course, I do get up.  I have to.  Whether it be for work at obscene-o'-clock in the morning or just for getting up to start one of my days off.

Get up.  That's step one.  Always a good step - you can't get much farther without doing that first.  Note that I didn't say "wake up," I said "get up." - I may still be asleep well into my day. 

Now, my stepping into myself is much less an internal process than it is an external one.  It's very hard for me to feel like "me" if I don't look the way I feel I should look - it's a little plastic of me, but hey.

The next thing I do is brood on over to the shower.  The shower is where most of my mental preparation for the day takes place.  I usually let the water run over me while I mull over the coming day.  I apparently mull over it a lot since on average my showers are 20-30 minutes long depending on how much time is available to me, which is terrible considering our current water crisis here in Texas.

Once I'm out I put in the single contact lens I have for my left eye, and usually grumble at the eye for not being identical to the prosthesis I wear over my right eye  (Don't ask me why I don't do it the other way around.)  I've been wearing contacts for about ten years now and I greatly prefer them over glasses.  I don't like looking at pictures of myself in general, but I especially don't like looking at pictures of younger me, back when I wore glasses.  I just do not like the look of glasses on myself.  Other people wear them just fine, but I'm not convinced that my face is a face that can wear them well, especially when my sight is so awful that my glasses need to be as thick as bulletproof glass.

Anyway.  Then I take care of my face, wondering exactly when I will finally be blemish-free.  Next is the oral hygiene, and then I actually go back to my room to get dressed.  I will admit that I spend more time sorting out an outfit than most guys.  The fact that I even used the word 'outfit' is a bit of a clue on how much I care about it.  If I'm working then it's simple and I just slip into my uniform, which I hate, but oh well, and I don't bother with my hair much since I wear a hairnet all day.  Usually that's that and I'm on my not-so-merry way. 

If I'm not working well then I go to town, and to be honest I probably already have an idea of what I'm going to put on ahead of time - yay 20-30 minute showers.  The weather's cold now too, so I can whore myself to all my jackets and scarves again.  I have a lot of jackets and coats, because I love them.  It's not that much of an overestimation when I say that for every two shirts I have one jacket/coat.

After I'm dressed I tend to my hair and then finally actually look at myself in the mirror.  I usually don't look at myself in the mirror until this point.  I look myself over and either give a mental nod of approval or I fix whatever little thing is bothering me.  One I've approved myself I feel about as ready as I'll ever be.  I pick up my chin and walk out the door into the world.

Now I have the look, but now I have to work to keep up the attitude, the confidence, the demeanor.  It's not so much for hiding and seeming "ok" as it is me preferring to focus on other people, talk to other people.  Of course, I can let my guard down, especially if I'm in small company, and whenever I'm in small company it tends to be with people that I'm close to anyway and know that my face is just a mask anyway.  Hence the title of this post.

Do I really do this every time I go out?  Yes.  Well, 95% of the time.  There are times where I simply do not care, which is never good, especially because you can tell just by looking at me, despite whatever facial expression I carry.  I simply will not look as put together as I usually do.

Now, the purpose of this post wasn't only to share how I feel from day to day, but also just this week.  This week was really just awful emotionally because someone very close to me ended up in hospital and we almost lost him.  Thankfully he is recovering just fine and should be going home today or tomorrow, but it was a scary ordeal.  Except I was never scared.

I've definitely had to step it up a bit and I've been examining myself as I do so.  Despite what happened I remained quite calm throughout all of it.  Part of it is definitely because I'm a pretty calm person.  My house could be on fire and I would no doubt call 911 and chat with the operator as if I were simply inviting them over for a little get-together.

I wanna say that that serenity comes from some assurance that everything is going to be all right, and part of it does come from that idea, but I also felt that the other part of it comes simply from apathy, and I'm not sure how to feel about that.  I used to be very apathetic in general about everything, and it did me so much harm, so to feel it still there disturbs me, especially in a situation like that where a person I cared for was in peril.

I remained "strong", so to speak, throughout everything partly due to simple apathy.  I'm figuring that it's just one of my defense mechanisms, to protect myself against the worst, but I don't like that that's what my brain does.  The only way I can move past it is because I know that in the end I did care, I do care - it's just that my demeanor grew colder and my whole personality adjusted itself during the crisis as a sort of defense - a defense so "strong" that it even masked the care I felt.  A perfect poker face. 

But as much as I did care there was a little bit of apathy in spite of it.  Again the only way I can even move past it is because there was the larger part of me that did care.

My sister asked me why I seemed like I didn't care at all.  Why I seemed so apathetic.  It did bother me.  I don't want to seem like I don't care, because I care quite a lot about most everyone, and, of course, especially those nearest to my heart, or nearest to my "pit" as my sister would say.  In the end she's joking and in the end I know she knows that I do care.  I laugh whenever she says it because it fits so well with the persona that has been so permanently assimilated into my personality: my whole "child of darkness" quirk that I greatly enjoy.  And in the end I personally know that I care, and know that I'm good person, and I'll go as far as to say that my wretched heart is actually two sizes too big versus too small.  Just don't tell anyone - I have a reputation to keep ;o

I suppose that the fact that it bothers me that I'd be viewed as apathetic suggests that I'm probably not.  Perhaps I really am just really calm, to the point where I can make light of the most serious situations and events and I confuse it with apathy?  I'm not sure, because I know that as much as I may care I am equally as capable of not caring at all.  I can always slide back into that mindset, even after climbing out of the hole.  I'm not going to let it bother me, but I just wanted to get it out of my system.

I suppose the title of this post refers to a true poker face I felt come out during the whole thing this week, one that didn't break or falter like my day to day mask might.  Actually, to call it a mask is a bit of a disservice to me.  I just like the word mask, but I suppose 'brave face' is more accurate, because what you see on my face day to day is real for the most part, just not the whole picture.

This post felt all over the place but I really just needed to write something.  Thanks for reading =)