A special day

Last night I saw Lenny Kravitz live at Paleo festival. The man is hot, hot, hot. I screamed and jumped so much that I am surprised I still have a voice. And I am surprised I didn't collapse into a pretzel while presenting my project plan this morning. BROOOOOKEEEN. Wah liau. Back-ache. Neck-ache. Voice ache. Backside also ache. He ended the concert with "Are You Gonna Go My Way" and the entire mostly french-speaking crowd was screaming along trying to sing whatever words sounded like "Are You Gonna Go My Way".

In the midst of my screaming and jumping while trying to hold on to my haversack and protect my beautiful Coach slipper balls from being trampled on, I thought of Eve. Eve with her dreadlocked hair all those years ago. Who used to headbang to this song wearing that godawful stupid turquoise and white uniform. Hhheheee.

I wanna go for another rock concert. In fact I think I am gonna quit my job and become a roadie. In fact, better yet, I think I will become a rock star. Can or not? I also want to wear shiny clothes and funny shoes and big sunglasses at night and shove my face in a camera that projects my image onto 100-feet-wide-and-high screens while everyone shouts A-NI-TA! A-NI-TA! A-NI-TA!!

Before I start changing my title on my namecards, methinks its time for me to go any buy the birthday cake for me daughter. Today is Chiara's real birthday. One year ago at exactly this time, I was in the delivery room of Hopital Cantonal of Geneva waiting to be fully dilated before starting to push. My jewel was born at 1850 on July 20th 2004.

Here's a picture of her when I brought her home from the hospital.


I love my daughter. I will die for her. Everyday, I cannot wait to run home and see her and play with her.

I want to be a rock star. I want to take drugs, sing songs, have dirty sex with only handsome young guys with big dicks and play the guitar.

Please call me Sybil from now on.