Me putting my foot down:
“Stella, I am NOT going to let you eat your string cheese by way of chewing through the plastic wrap. Not this time. Nope. I really mean it. Look here is how you…”
Stella responding obediently:
“WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! noWAYnoWAYnoWAY”
Me holding firm:
“Fine!! Here!!”
In this photo Stella is:
A) a plumber
B) a back-up dancer in a Kid Rock video
C) missing a Budweiser in her right hand
D) makin’ her daddy proud
I love music. I love to constantly have a steady stream of it playing in the background, shuff-shuff-shuffling any of our hundreds of CDs in a sequence that is never the same twice. I like it when I hear a song that I haven’t heard in a decade and it monorails me down memory lane to the time and space that it holds in my memory. I love the digital age of music wherein I can hear, read about or in other ways stumble across a song, make a mad dash to the computer and have it downloaded and burned in a matter of minutes. That is what I call progress.
Progress is also not having to be a slave to format. Yes, you know what I am talking about. The ear-bleeding perkiness that is….children’s music. It burrows into your subconscious until you find yourself singing a song, not even realizing “AGH! This is from the Hi-5 soundrack — what am I doing?” I blame Steve. HE is the one that went to Borders to buy the DVDs, and HE is the one that just had to download all 37 of their cotton-candy-top-40-the-speakers-ooze-sugary-sweetness songs. Action had to be taken. So here, in all it’s glory, I give to you the anecdote for all that is perky. Everyone, I give you: Stella’s Bad Mamma Jamma Mix ’05.
This mix encapsulates the following important kid-AND-MOM- friendly musical stylings: world music, hip indie/alternative tunes, French-Cajun music, western cool, bluesy cool, reggae mon
May this be the first of many wonderful listening memories, my hip little dancing girl.
This is me and Shannon.
This weekend we attended Shannon’s 36th birthday in Ukiah at her snazzy new house that she shares with Ryan. Shannon has been my friend for many years and, together, we have had many wild adventures. In an effort to preserve my sparkling reputation, I will not go into details about these adventures, but will say that during NO time did we ever do anything fattening, immoral or illegal. Ahem.
Shannon is a great friend for many reasons. First of all she also is a Gemini, and the 4 of us get along swimmingly. She writes really great stream-of-conciousness emails that go on paragraph after rambling paragraph (no doubt a side effect of the precision writing she was a slave to in law school). She is the best friend to do absolutely nothing with. She is a thoughtful listener. She has great penmanship. She has this amazing freak-of-nature hair that never has to be washed (literally — she doesn’t even own shampoo), yet never looks greasy. She is an ‘extended length hugger.’ Her priorities just make sense: good food, good wine and you should ALWAYS have dessert. I can talk to Shannon about anything, and I mean ANYTHING. It is comforting to know that no matter how banal or abstract or long-winded or redundant, she is always willing to listen and give productive feedback.
And so to you, Shannon, on your 36th birthday I tell you this: my life is so much richer with you in it and in a nutshell, you rock.
The Number Thing:
So all of you family members of the male persuasion will be thrilled to know that Stella can correctly identify (without even being asked, thank you very much) where the 8 and the 2 are on a tape measure. Oh, and that it is yellow.
The Laundry Thing:
Stella also has exhibited firm grasp on the laundering process, properly identifying who each and every piece of clothing belongs to (no, I am not kidding, she didn’t even miss one), helping to load said pieces into the washer, pointing out the door, the soap, the water and the buttons. Oh Stella, the laundromats that await you.
The Cup Thing:
She refuses to allow me to put the lid on her tippy cup, insisting that she drink it “big girl style.” I have mopped up more milk off the floor than I care to even mention, but far be it for me to impede “progress.”
The Owie Thing:
So somewhere along the line, Stella wound up with an owie on her finger. During this episode she was enlightened to the concept of kissing the owie. So now, whenever she hurts herself she kisses her finger and runs to you crying “owie, owie” and holding out her finger….even if she hurt her head. And the best part: no matter where she was hurt, when you kiss her finger, she feels better.
The Sleeping Through the Night Thing:
Oh wait, she doesn’t. Never mind.