Hey, I’m back!  Things have been busy here, and I’m finally working on more writing and venturing into the editing world.  Still, getting paid in experience is proving itself than getting paid with actual money.  There is much enjoyment to this, however; something is going to stick sooner than later.

Wednesday, March 12 was heavy.  The amount of snow that fell–this can only be said from experience in Central New York–paused life for a moment, which–considering actual time–lasted just under two days.  The cold temperatures outlasted the falling snow; this is fine because the winter apparel still hung in closets across the state, and the items still do.  Finally, after twelve months of coaxing, the decision to move from the threshold into a new decade settled, and the playful-yet-nagging antagonist that disguises itself as encouragement is finally accepted.

Pardon me as I make my way across the room to finally take a seat to make myself more comfortable.

The night of family, friends, food and beverages were postponed a day due to Mother Nature’s predictable unpredictability.  The family affair to celebrate the three Malone Men’s March birthdays at Kitty Hoynes Irish Pub.  Sandwiched between mine and my father’s days, lies the St. Patrick’s Day celebration that is my brother’s birthday.  As previously stated in previous posts that there is –to emphasize there is no such thing as simple coincidence–my birthday is shared with my maternal grandfather and my brother has the same as our father’s father.

Don’t believe me about happenings.  Thursday morning, “Fix You” by Coldplay–now, keep reading a moment and hear this out–came through the speakers of the cafe that I was writing in.  It’s a good song, in my opinion, a sad song, but it bonded my brother from another mother, Paul, and I with our adoration for Scrubs.  It’s a song we clanked Guinness pints to on a positive note, reminding us to not let despair and negativity get in the way of progression.  Paul sent a text to me before dinner was served.  He said that “Fix You” came through the speakers of the pub he was at, while he was enjoying a Guinness.  He told me he had a flashback to our hanging out at Hoynes over the Irish drought.  Of course, it was made known to him of my location.

As we poured our own Guinness pints, after my parents insisted that I talk to waitress(es)/hostess(es) of their choosing (they are more impatient than I am), we settled in for a nice dinner.  A big thank you goes to my brother and his better half for getting me a ticket to see The Hold Steady and Deer Tick (the band above) at Water Street Music Hall in Rochester, April 21st.

March is a tough month to get through.  Lent, depending how and if you celebrate it, can make your life better or more of a living hell.  Snow accumulation and temperatures are unpredictable.  In my life, March is a constant celebration due to our heritages and birthday, which can be a pain to get through.  It’s all about pacing yourself, and putting the exercise and healthy consumption on the back burner.  You can tell yourself just one; however, it will turn into thinking you’ll be fine with just one more.  So much for giving up sweets; there has been too many pieces of cake consumed.

We’re restarting again, now.

Currently, I am looking at food–at this moment–and sticking my tongue out.

The immune system surprised me this winter.  Not once was a cold adventuring in my body.  As usual, my option to not obtain a flu shot allowed me to laugh in the face of danger.  Not getting sick was never mentioned, because there was no way that a jinx would come into play.  Unfortunately, the family-and-friend-filled Syracuse St. Patrick Parade Day proved itself tiresome.  Not as young as in years past.  Work got done in the morning, because there would be much guilt if the papers were not touched.  Family and friends came later.  This day-long party was outlasted than not.

Ah, and there was the cute girl with green Converse to compliment my orange pair.

It wasn’t felt until descending the stairs to Oliver the Cat’s apartment that exercise could not have been any more anticipated. Dinner was eaten with the family, birthdays were celebrated again and with more cake.  The Walking Dead was watched, showing another heavy episode.  Spoiler alert.  Upon last week’s tweet, stating that it seemed like a great idea to kill off the two kids, there was joking behind it.  Who knew the writers were actually going to do so?   Another person tweeted about how Romero did not kill off kids in the older movies.  Unfortunately, the sad truth, anyone has the ability to die.  It’s not like the kids are immortal.  Death of the children… wow that sounds totally horrible.  I’m just going to stop there.  Essentially, it’s all about writing and character development.

And so, today, the St. Patrick’s Day celebration would have continued.  Today is my brother’s birthday.  Unfortunately, the dizziness, the terrible gas, the inability to walk short distances, and rumbling stomach are all keeping me back.  That’s right.  Something was bound to latch onto me, and so my bowing to the porcelain throne  last night was not a pleasant experience.  It was predicted.  After climbing into bed and huddling under the covers, it was obvious that something did not feel right.

This little update is all over the place.  It happens.  However, I need to stop here and work on my premiere post for the Syracuse New Times blog.  Hopefully it is coherent, whatever is written about, and let’s see if a title can be chosen for this segment.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all of you from beneath the sheets.

That sounds strange as well, but it is where I am.

St. Patrick’s mother was Italian, by the way.