It's Always Fun

June,

They usually happen around this time don't they?

It's a good time.

Sunny.

Pleasant.

School holiday.

Sleeveless.

Sure.

But, not always.

I've heard of ones happening in the winter.

Sure.

In the mountains.

There's a lot of polishing involved.

Scrub it good.

It's gotta be the nicest it's ever gonna look.

You are a tomato, and this year in your life is a giant tooth brush.

Shine that skin girl.

Twist those bristles around that shit.

Crate and Barrel.

It's all very nice.

It's a lovely weekend.

I really mean that.

I actually mean that.

I don't see any vampires.

I didn't get any assignments asking me to prove anything.

Actually, even better, this has nothing to do with me.

Oh, Jesus. I knew you were black.

I love black men.

It's a community.

A hand picked community.

All coming together for one day.

With one thing in common.

Never to be assembled again.

How cool.

A flash

In the

Constellation

Of your

Life

Together.

A tiny

Pixelated

Splash

On the

Canvas

Of your

fate.

Marked.

Flagged.

Pointed to reference.

Always.

A sunny, pleasant reminder.

And the idea is to only ever have one.

Obviously.

So, naturally it should sparkle glow.

I get it.

When I was seven I was a bridesmaid in my Father's marriage to my fake mom. It was huge. It was Cinderella on steroids. I had never felt more beautiful. Or confused. Then for reasons too complicated to blog about on a Friday, they went to Paris for a month, and something happened in that time, something that forbid me to have any contact with them for the next four years. Gone. When I was twelve I rang them up cause real mom was dying for the first time since I had known her, and the first time is real scary. Ask the grandkids. Dad and fake mom were now living in Highland Park. I had twin brothers. Sixteen months old. It is a tragedy of epic proportion that I could never, can never, will never hold them in my arms, I missed that whole thing. But, it is a miracle beyond comprehension to hold the memory of those two little bodies waddling right up to me and saying hello. And they continue to amaze me, walking, and running, and soaring into their eighteenth year.

Oh my God, my little pumpkins are huge! And that sleeping beauty on valium thing was all more then twenty years ago. And it's so over. I'm a big girl now. Very smart. Good at separating. And being happy for my dear friends, supporting them, congratulating them, wishing them, supporting them, holding, and holding, and holding them. Once you get the hang of it, it feels great, natural, much easier then dwelling and wallowing.

Nothing but love, and balls,

Skin and Toast