a baby and happiness.

I was feeling off the 2 weeks prior to April 22. Not for one particular reason, but a hodgepodge of various events, the most important being my sister's impending marriage. I expressed this to someone, and they told me to get over it. To stop acting like a "baby". Like alot of things about me, I don't think people get it.

About 4 years ago, my niece and I were outside shoveling snow. She was about 4 years old. We weren't as much shoveling snow as we were attacking each other with it. With her on the losing end often enough, and loving every second of it. A slightly chilled elation. A white GS rolls up slow. It was lauryn's father. He's been absent from conception. I try to block her view as I'm called to the car. We talk for about 30 seconds. Lame attempts at concern for my sister which I counter with lame attempts at tact and being cordial. I walk back to the sidewalk, trying to wash this recent exchange from my memory. I sit on the steps and lauryn walks between my knees. Playfully, I pull her hat over her eyes, and she pulls it back up.

"Was that my dad?"
"Yup"
"Why didn't he say hi to me?"

The inner shell that seperates feelings from expression cracked inside of me. I shed tears. Mainly, because I knew there was no way I stop the cogs of her 4 year mind from turning. No way to help her make sense of it all. I couldn't euphemize my words. Children are black and white. Truth or lies. So I gave her what she would understand.

I don't know sweetheart.

I knew then that this was much more that being a uncle. As my father knew it was much more than being pop-pop. And if that person understood, they would realize it was much more than "acting like a baby." That is my baby. From the day she came out of the womb. And stuck that needle in her yellow ass. Gel on her eyes and in my arms. And still now, as she leaves my house and moves on to her new life, with her new dad. Still my baby. Still, it hurts.

Me and my sister's relationship began in dissapointment. They called home when I was born, to assauge my sister's excitement about her new sibling.
It's a boy!
The forecast: a steady rain shower of tears in and around the Kelli Singleton region of the Northeastern United States.
From then, its been a rollercoaster. Times and of joy and pain. But do know this. My sister loves me, through and through, to the bone. She has threatened women in my life with pain if they hurt me, and she meant every word.
And the love is reciprocal.

I can't explain it. It's like explaining a inside joke.
You get it, or you don't.
Just like me.

On a slight tangent:
People say the only thing that is guaranteed to us is death and taxes. I have a addition to that terse and abrupt list. Happiness. Now, I have no idea how to obtain it. I do know that it doesn't come off the rack. Like a good suit, it is talior-made for the individual. This past week however, I have realized how not to obtain it.
I love movies. And in every drama, there is this scene, basted in poignancy. There is one individual, no dialouge. Soul-stirring music. The person is knee deep in thought.
Whenever I'm feeling...off, I recreate this scene, believing (however falsely), that if it works in the movies, it will work for me. And it always fails. Like a comfortable, but detrimental relationship, I run back to it.

What I realized is that in that moment, if you do not come to any real realizations to make your life better, then that moment is wasted. There is no one watching you, hearing the music and feeling your angst through the screen. It is just you, the thoughts you own, and God who sold them to you.

It's up to you to put the purchase to good use.

I took the red pill.

which one do you want sir? all of it.

I spent the last weekend in Philly with dudes that I have known, and been close to for over 10 years. They provided me something that I cannot lose. Memories.
Thank You.

the rundown, ver.1.0

My sister is getting married this month. Jeez. I have alot of mixed feelings about it. A veritable plethora. Mainly concerning the person she is planning to marry. And how long they have known each other But, I love my sister alot, and I will support her in her decision. From this upcoming event, I have learned alot of things. About "the process" of getting married. Didn't know there was so much to it beyond love.

This is my first wedding.

I learned two very important things, one of which I cannot share on here for various reasons. But if you are a man, contact me somehow and I will let you know about a theory that will potentially save your sanity when it comes to love, marriage and women.

The second thing I learned is that the woman I marry is going to have to sing "Be Good to You" by Vivian Green to me before I ask her to marry me. Seems shallow, yes. I have very few requirements. Two including this one. So I don't honestly feel that badly about it. I can't budge on this one. She doesn't have to do it well. And I'll drop hints beforehand. Just a heartfelt attempt.

When my sister is nervous about the wedding, my niece tells her to think about pizza, and that will cheer her up.

Before I give my sister away, I have to come up with something to say to her that will make her laugh out loud. That loud, but brief quick laugh. The one that slips out. You know what I'm talking about. The trick about this is that it has to be something that requires no thought, no comprehension. No time for that. Quick and dirty laughter is what I'm after.

I can't wear my wedding clothes to the reception. I'm about comfort, not being uncomfortable in some slippery earls, hardbottom editions with slacks that hug in me in all the wrong places. I know that sounded a little fruity, but I'm funny shaped and its the truth. I want to wear some sweatpants but that might be going a little too hard. Another problem that needs solving.

This is going to make my mother happy. And its something uniquely special about a child bringing happiness to their parents. Somewhere, an angel plays a drum roll.

The question was raised if I was bringing someone. Now, I've never been the one to bring people to family events. It always seemed selfish. My cousins would always bring their girls to cookouts, and I always roasted them for being suckers. The girl doesn't know anyone, so she's uncomfortable. She feels weird getting some potato salad and a burger, and I feel her. This ain't her family. She has to beauty pagent smile at all of these people for no good reason. Talk to people about nothing. Get left alone when her "date" leaves her to talk to me about...well anything. I want to put someone through that. See how she holds up. Good test of character. I won't feel that bad. I'll try to document it, like an experiment.

And now some parting words from Mack Mittens:

I feel your pain when you restrained and your love die-
and make your heart hard, the blood in your vein fry-
Feel like I'm trapped and I'm blindfolded-
But my eyes wide open to see, Feel like the O'Jay's, climbin those stairways, hopin' Heaven's gates wide open for me-
Towards Allah seekin' direction...Still I spin in every direction, seekin direction-
Tryin' to balance out the good with the imperfections, Yeah I know I still move with nowhere to go....