I can find no other word more perfect to describe my co-worker friend than: RockStar. It's a term she uses with an amusing amount of regularity, but always in appropriate context.
Yesterday she gave birth to a baby girl, Eva Renae, after being more than a week overdue but hanging in there like a champ. Working right up until her due date, larger-than-life belly and all, always glowing. I can't wait to see more pictures of Eva, or better yet, see her in person.
Another RockStar is our friend Sturk, who celebrated her 30th birthday in style on Cinqo de Mayo. Can anyone think of a better holiday on which to have your birthday?
And finally, I'd like to thank the RockStars in my life who have listened to my processing rants about my love-hate relationship with my hair, and helping me find peace in what to do with it next. After months of deliberation, I went RockStar short again today, or "Sharon-Stone-Short", as I call it. It feels like the hair equivalent to getting your braces off - no, not slimy, but... like there's so much weight missing... I keep thinking it's up in a pony tail, but no, it's just RockStar short. And Nate is still speaking to me. :)
