A Letter to Kelly Rippa

Dear Ms. Rippa,

You are beautiful.
You are strong.
You are talented.
You are loving.
You are loved.
You are you and that is all you need to be.

So why do you insist on resorting to self-deprecating comments?

Only recently did I start watching morning television, so recently in fact that I never saw 'Regis and Kelly,' I have only been audience to 'Kelly and Michael.'  I very much enjoy watching the show.  I enjoy the repartee that you and Micheal have, I enjoy your ability and willingness to be silly.  What I do not enjoy are all of the negative comments that you make regarding yourself.  Continually remarking on the team it takes to make you not look like a little boy, the hours that go into sculpting you into a being ready for the camera.

People can see you.  People can hear you.

Just like mom's watch cartoons because their kids watch cartoons, kid's watch you because their mom's watch you.  Women truly do have a hard enough time in this world. From having to work twice as hard as men to gain positions to which they are equally qualified to hold, to feeling the pressure to chose between family or career as apparently women are responsible for the world but can not be complex individuals capable of desiring and juggling multiple life paths.  Intentionally or unintentionally, you have become a role model for women and girls.  Achieving great successes both with your career and with your family.  So why is it that you forsake all of these achievements and focus on your looks?

You are beautiful.  Inside and out.  Fresh out of bed or fresh from the make-up chair.

You are strong.  Physically and mentally.  While lifting weights, or holding your family.

You are talented.  As an actor, as a speaker, as an activist, as a mother.

You are loving.  To your husband, to your kids, to your family, to your friends, to you viewers.

You are loved.  By your husband, you kids, your family, your friends, your viewers.

You are you and that is all you need to be.  No changes.  No deviations.  No adjustments.


We don't need girls growing up basing success on looks.  Or seeing someone who is a success reacting as though their success is insignificant compared to their own negative physical perception.  We don't need boys growing up thinking that it's OK for women to be fixated on appearance.  You are in the perfect position to show both girls and boys, and women and men what it means to be a success and a complete person.  And to show all of that without the negativity or focus on outward appearance.

So please Kelly, embrace the position you have earned and help to raise a generation of strong, successful, and confident women.

Thanks!

When I was a little girl, I read a story that involved making ice cream out of snow. I have no recollection of what the story was about, the ice cream making may or may not have been the whole of it or it could have just been the resolution. I haven't thought of that story in ages but I do know that it intrigued me for years. Ice cream out of snow? If that was a real thing, think of all the ice cream a kid could make! And vanilla ice cream was my favorite flavor (and still is) so how hard could it be to take white snow and make it in to white ice cream?

So as I stepped into the hotel room and saw the abundance of pure white untouched snow beyond the sliding glass door, of course after years of having no reason to remember this story or the curiosity it inspired, all I wanted to do was make ice cream. Carrying no real ingredients or tools with which to start, I decided that if a spoon was good enough to scoop ice cream into my mouth, it was good enough to scoop snow into a bowl. And so I began to scoop away.

Time and again I arched the spoon into the snow, carving out tiny hollows. The deeper I dug, the bluer the light became and the color, so magical helped me forget the numbness in my fingers. I dug and I dug. I mashed that snow harder and harder into the bowl. (I had looked up a recipe on the internet and it said that the snow had to be very very compact) Sweat beaded on my forehead and froze in droplets on my hairline. I scooped until I could scoop no more. And then I realized that with my exceptionally limited means there was no way I would actually be able to make this snow into ice cream.

BUT FEAR NOT!

My endeavor had provided me with the poor man's freezer. So when I bought a pint of vanilla ice cream at the store, I had the perfect spot to house it. Vanilla ice cream never tasted so good.

P.S. Ariel Barbie pressed her shells into my freezer and left a mark. Barbie may think she can do anything, but grrrl better watch out, biotch.

Camel colored, spiny and totally out of place, it lay there in the grass, the sun hitting its many lines and ridges casting shadows across its two major peaks. The wind blew through the long blades and the salty scent wafted through the air, teasing, tempting. The smell, so strong, so different attracted her attention. She turned sharply, lifting her head and froze, testing the air. Slowly she stepped forward, afraid of loosing the smell, wanting to follow the trail. More faintly it drifted past her again. Large nose leading the way, she picked through the trees, trying to avoid leaving behind a trail of her own. Her dark brown coat helped to hide her massive body in the forest, but danger still lay all around and she shouldn't be wondering alone so far from the others, but the smell, the smell, so attractive called her forward. Ahead the trees parted and a vast prairie sprawled in all directions. She stopped, wary of the open ground, but the salt on the air tempted her so. 'Not far,' she told herself, 'Just a little ways to see what makes such a succulent scent.' A few steps out of the trees was all it took to locate the source. Though small, exceptionally so in the eyes of one so big, she saw it laying there in the green grass. A tiny oblong object, multi-faceted and pinched in the middle, it lay there as on a platter made just for her. Her eyes widened in anticipation and one last time she scanned her surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary in sight. Slowly, deliberately, she stepped forward, eyes locked on the prize. Mechanically she made each step, drawn toward the tantalizing miniature object. Mouth watering in preparation she made the final steps until she stood directly above her siren, so small yet so powerful. A final preparatory breath and then gingerly she lowered her head.

THUD

Startled he yanked his head up, yet he barely moved. His head felt heavy as an echo ran through his bashed cranium and he pulled away again, still to no avail. What was wrong?! His head twisted to the side sharply, though he hadn't made the motion. Again, harshly his head was pulled down, seemingly of its own accord. Obviously he was stuck, or caught in something and so mustering all of his strength, he pulled hard and tried to step backward. He was successful in taking a small step, but the weight of his head felt as though it had increased and a sound caught his ear. A grunt, then the stomping of, what? Hooves? Could it be his own? HIs head stretched forward. No, those definitely weren't his hooves. He tried to see what the problem was, but he was trapped in a position that only allotted him a peripheral view and a direct line down his nose to the thing he had sought. Again a grunt and a tug and his head tipped downward. Then a hoof appeared next to his rippled mystery. A moose hoof. He shook his head and heard the familiar click and scrape of antlers to antlers. He had clashed with many of his brethren and that sound was all too familiar, but this feeling was not. Trapped, stuck, locked with seemingly no release.

"Quite a pickle huh?" He said.

"I don't think it's a pickle, but it is a something, or I wouldn't have come out here for it, and it's mine," she replied. "Now please let go."

"I can't. I think we're stuck."

"There must be a way. What if we..."

And for a time they twisted this way and that. Up, down and all around but after wearing themselves out, no change had been made. They were each stuck to a friend or foe that neither could see and they were stuck strong. Panting, they mutually agreed to rest.

"Well, what do we do?" She asked.

"I just don't know. But, lets take a minute to regroup." She nodded and his head bobbed necessary agreement. "I'm Bob by the way."

"Hey Bob, I'm-"

But at that moment they both heard a scurrying in the grass and a small tan animal with a long furry tail, bristled out all over appeared directly below them in the grass. It picked up their prize that still lay in the center of a now trampled circle of earth (they had been careful not to crush it) and held the thing to its face. In the creature's tiny hands, the once miniscule item looked oversized as it spun and tested it under its nose. And then, horrifically, its chomped the peanut under it protruding teeth and scampered through the brush and out of sight.

A moment passed and neither moose even dared breathe. Antlers locked, mouths agape, each one stood staring with one eye after their lost prize. Bob broke the silence.

"What now?"

- Show quoted text -

Numero dos...

Come on Little One,

look at all you can be

just like us.

tall and proud, majestic and inspiring.

Come Little One,

we stick together, a family,

built upon one another

grown for each other, a piece of the whole

forever.

Come on Little One,

don't you want to be one of us?

look at our nobility

watch as we inspire awe

see how we are revered and revel in our beauty.

Come Little One

join us

become what you were born to be

stand among the others who chose power

strength and elegance

mold to our ways

Come on Little One"

"No"

Ok, so here is the first Picture and Story. Go 1/1/10!

Sometimes ideas are really hard to come by, thoughts are hard to formulate or at least put into words. Some are simple, such as "It is true that my anaconda don't want none unless you got buns hun- I mean, what is she wearing??" or ,"What should I have for dinner?" or even, "Did I put on deodorant?" But others can be complex, like, "We have this New Year's plan to be creative, but now I have less than an hour to write something interesting or meaningful or poignant and I have no idea what it could be. Or rather, I have lots of ideas, some long, some short, some silly, some sad, but which do I chose?"

I guess that's what it's all about huh? Good Luck to us all! Happy New Year!

"When I told him to get out and play, I hadn't really intended for him to play dress up..."

New Year's Project!

Okokok, so my friend Kevin and I have a New Years Project-instead of a resolution- and it involves him taking/choosing a picture a day and I have to write something about it. Big, small, short, long, silly, stupid, whatev. Here's to hoping we make it past the two week mark! Go us!

Big Wheels Keep on Turning...

I should have started this a LONG time ago. My Kyle kept bugging me, telling me that he wanted to see me write (I think he actually wanted to hear me write, hear my voice cross the distance between us), but I didn't know what to write about. I thought I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted a deep or funny or memorable opening. But with that much pressure, I'm never gonna sit down and write.

So here goes-

Hello everyone! My name is Star (yes, that really is my name) and this is my blog. Here are some of the things that you may be able to look forward to within future posts-

Stories about life on the road

Life with Muppets

Deep questions on life (please don't take me totally seriously on this one)

Silly opinions of the universe

OKokok. So basically me. You will get to know me through my words. And maybe, just maybe if you like these words, I can get to know you. Cross your fingers and hold your breath-life is a bumpy road. Actually, I just want your positive energy to make me sit down and write!

See ya-round!

~*