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Jett Superior laid this on you on || April 6, 2011 || 8:55 am

There are a lot of things I could (and want to!) say about Maria, but there is one utterance that sums it all up nicely, I think: Last night on Twitter, we sat and cast The Lord of the Rings with Muppets. Man, do I ever love this girl. She is adorable and smart and no-bullshit.

When I was in fourth grade, I filled out this survey at the beginning of the school year.  You know, one of those meme-like getting to know you things.  I remember writing that my goal in life was to see The Phantom of the Opera, that I wanted to be an archeologist, and that JFK was my hero.

The thing was, I only said JFK because I thought he was hot (really, I did) and he seemed like an appropriate hero. I probably would have put Han Solo or Indiana Jones if I’d felt like a fictional dude was an acceptable hero.

Now I’m a grown ass woman, supposedly, and I have a really different idea of what makes a hero.  For starters, a hero isn’t a famous person.  You might read about some heroes in Social Studies books or on CNN.com, but the real ones are all over the place.  They work at Target or they write you parking tickets or they wash dogs at the ASPCA.

So I had this meltdown last year, kind of all year long.  The whole time?  And once in a while I’d hop onto chat and I’d spooge all my fears on someone.  And one of those times, Jett Superior pinged me or I pinged her, I don’t remember.  Let’s pretend it was fate. (It was.)

And we talked about my son’s issues, which really, were my issues.  And we talked about her kids, and we talked about being mothers, and we talked about the broken bits and pieces that come with loving the hell out of our children.

I guess for a whole year before that, I’d assumed Jett was sort of scary.  Like, bad-ass scary.  I mean, her website had this Tank Girl chick looking ready to kick some shit in the face like a boss and I’m like, ha, I remember when I was half-punk-rock for ten minutes, when that mostly meant wearing extra eyeliner and man oh man, I’m a dork, and cool people scare me.

What?  No.  Jett is not scary.

She’s basically the equivalent of a blogging unicorn in that her breed of wisdom and humor and not-giving-a-shit and sparkliness is beyond rare.  And you want to snuggle her and pet her fuzzy nose, etc.  But she will fuck your shit up with that horn if necessary.

She is cool.  Not cool like the cool kids you’re afraid of or ambivalent toward or resentful of.  She’s cool in that she’s different, and ballsy, and loving.  Did I mention loving?  Her heart blasts out between the lines and in the spaces between words.  It makes her punctuation jiggle and dance.  It makes me smile.

How do you celebrate someone who feels like a celebration every day?  I’m not sure.  But I know I’d like to say happy effing birthday, ma’am.  From the tip of my toes to the back of my neck and with all my soul—because you deserve happy every-days for the amount of good energy and vibes and laughter and bravery you eke out into the world, all the time.

3 worked it out »

  1. Elly Lou 4.6.2011

    *sniffle* That was lurvely. But don’t you two go jumping in a convertible and driving across a desert now…

     
  2. leel 4.9.2011

    this really spoke to the true Jett that I have grown to love and cherish in such a short time. you are a gift, lay-deh. and well written maria!

     
  3. Jett Superior 4.10.2011

    Can I just say that the notion of punctuation jiggling and dancing makes me pants-excited?

    What an awesome line!

     

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