Well Rockstar moved out. (Sniff, sniff.) My neighbor and her family packed up and took off... something about wanting to be closer to work. Crazy. I think of her as Rockstar because she is so beautiful and when she wears her sunglasses she looks like just that, a rockstar.
This is a woman who looks exactly right (not sure what that means, but you know these women)... has a megawatt smile, and always seems to have it together. With a four-year-old boy and a newborn son, a career, night classes at the college, and a home to run I don't know how she could always be in a good mood, but she was. Not one of those crazy, hyper, had-too-many-Red Bulls people but... just right.
How does Rockstar do it? How do people who look exactly right, act exactly right, and seem awfully perfect pull it off? Are they human? Do they have flesh and blood bodies or are they robot prototypes thrown here with the rest of us to push us harder? To show us what we could be if we just try harder? If we just put a little more effort in? It worked on me, that's for sure... every time Rockstar and I exchanged friendly words about kids, weather, and life in general, I would look at her and want to be better. Not her, but a better, more pleasant, more fit version of myself. And looking at her this seemed ... doable. If she can do it, so can I, right?
Well she's gone. Whether she was a real woman or a robot I will miss her. I like to think I'll still push myself toward improvement, because well, that's just a lifelong pursuit. But with Rockstar gone it will not be the same. Goodbye for now, you fabulous woman, you.
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