Dear Stewart,

Hi.

I had a weird weekend. That's two in a row, if you're keeping track, but I'm going to spare you the details. There were, in fact, a few really sweet moments: I got to go for a bike ride (and it was a beautiful day), and I got to play with my 15 month old in a tiny blow up pool in the backyard. He got a lot of joy out of it, too. I had some amazing Indian food. I also laid around on an old couch in the garage and read a book while my husband fussed around with one of his drum kits and our boy slept on me.

Seriously, that's some good stuff, there.

But sometimes my brain gets stuck on things (like: my age! my decisions! my stupid, older body! the way I make the same mistakes, over and over again!), and sometimes the only way to get unstuck is music, and lots of it, preferably at top volume. This morning, it kind of worked. And I have you, and your voice, to thank for it.

I was listening to my iPod for awhile this morning, but nothing was really working to shake me out of my, I don't know, let's call it "funk" (not even Black Sabbath, and according to Patrick, the Black Sabbath drummer [Bill Ward] is funky enough, so I switched off "Paranoid" without even listening to "Fairies Wear Boots," and, come on, who does that?), and I turned on the radio. I don't even know what station it was, but "Roxanne" was on one of them.

Not a "happy" song, necessarily (if I was looking for a happy song I would've turned to my old standbye, "Crosseyed and Painless" by the Talking Heads), but a fun song, for sure.

I'm sure I've noticed you in the background before. I know I've mentioned what fun it is to sing along with all the "Roxanne's," especially at the end, if not here, then to somebody, somewhere (and I'll never forget howling along with my friend Paul while our other friend David kicked the shit out of this song at karaoke one night; I think on the night Paul turned 33, a few years ago), but this morning? This morning it was me and you howling along, 80 miles an hour on the 710 freeway, the window down (and the heater on), harmonizing.

Thanks for that. As you know!, the song is 34 years old (Paul is not, though that would've been great synchronicity there; then again, I'm not 34 anymore either, so what does that have to do with anything?)... and it never fails to elevate my mood.

Those things that I was stuck on (please refer to the list above, and, if you want to call me, I'll tell you all about those and maybe one or two other things)... well, they're still there. Let's not be silly. But I feel a little better now, so thanks.

Love you,
Irene