A light-hearted blog post. No Corona or Daddy is dead business. Promise.
My sister has some serious atoning to do. She has, consistently I might add, suggested the worse horror movies ever. Yes, the kind where nothing happens or we end up falling asleep. Of course she loves those movies as she hates a good ole scare. I, on the other hand, have impeccable taste in movies. Ask my godsons about Treevenge. They are still horrified. Now that’s how a proper a proper (evil) aunty rolls. Just the other day I warned my godsons that if they misbehaved I would turn them into angels. Yeah, angels don’t have genitals…hehe!
I miss the sound of a full house. My siblings are the best and worse. My brother and sister are still as naughty as they were when I caught them eating my contraceptive pills ages ago. They thought it was sweets. So I gave them new nicknames from a very old TV show. In short the nicknames amount to this – Bac and Teria… yes, together they are bacteria! Only it sounds way cooler in Afrikaans.
I was about to lie and say I don’t have space for a serious man as this grief business is so hectic and all. Nonsense of course. Space will be made for the right person. In the end it is as simple as that. Everything else is a lie. The only problem is I have no desire to look or engage with anyone, aside from friends. So when I have time to kill I end up scrolling through pictures of my potential new hairstyles and lovely babies on Instagram. Nothing beats an overdose of cuteness in my books. My sister, on the other hand, insists on sending me posts of rather delicious Latino men as she feels I need a …. distraction.
As soon as I possibly can new ink is a must. A butterfly tattoo on my left arm and something specific for my father. Similar to the ink I got commemorating Doug’s death. Both of them are free of pain now, so I would like those two pieces to interlink somehow.
My sister’s butterfly tattoo looks like a broken heart inked by a talentless prison inmate. It just makes me sad to look at it man. I warned her that she better have ideas for something new. Hopefully the Black Ink Chicago that she loves watching will inspire something….artistic and tasteful.
I decided to move, leave this country. There is nothing here for me beside…pesky family members! Haha. I love all of them but I need a life of my own. It’s time. I told my Mother a few days ago about my plans.
I haven’t sung in months. I need to sing with my band or with Rodney. Release is needed. Also, I need a break from songwriting so will source music from other songwriters I trust. Like Brooklyn who has a huge future in scoring movies. He is a talented musician/actor and so goddamn handsome. Also, a very wonderful human being and my friend.
On my list of things not to do is this: no dating or jumping Leo men. I am not even joking. I can see some people rolling their eyes and hear all manner of silent judgements. We all have preferences, and this is mine.
We are redrawing the family constitution. Everyone needs a code of conduct you know. We have certain songs reserved for family usage only. Such as Kendrick’s Be Humble…for when those fools aka the kids won’t listen. And everyone has a undercover nickname….none of which I can divulge here. Promises were made and pacts have to be honored and all.
Things are not as complex as we make them out to be. We show up for people we love. And every second between now and death should be celebrated. There. That’s life summed up. Boom.