This is kind of weird, but…I am sincerely very sad about the death of Prince. This is the saddest I have ever been about a celebrity death. In my adult life. When I was a young child & realized that Richie Valens had died thirty years earlier, I was super-super-sad.

I spent all day trying to con Ramona into playing with forgotten toys so that I could sit glued to my computer, listening to Prince songs & looking at photos & video clips. Don’t think I don’t feel bad about that. The poor child was reduced to inventing her own puzzle by laying toy farm animals on magnets depicting the same animals. She matched horse to horse & pig to pig, but the tiger toy was matched to a lion magnet (yeah, her farm has a tiger) & she threw in the towel on the farmer toy & matched it to some ducks.

I don’t even know why I’m so sad about Prince. I’m not a crazed Prince super-fan. I’m not a super-fan of anyone or anything, truthfully. I guess now I have to eat all my dismissive words about people having Feelz about David Bowie’s death. To me, Prince seemed beyond human, & hence, immortal. It’s the only possible explanation for how successfully he rocked high-waisted pants despite being only 5’2″. I truly felt that if Prince existed in the world, maybe that meant the world was not all bad.

I am channeling my confusing feelings about this untimely death in my own way. I am still suffering from an acute case of Bra Fever, & so I am planning to make my next bra purple & lacy, in memory of Prince. I’ll call it “the Purple Rain”. Though, you know, it would be easy to make anything & give it a Prince-appropriate name. Dude loved colors. “Under the Cherry Moon,” “Computer Blue,” “Diamonds & Pearls” (pearl is a color!), “Raspberry Beret,” I could go on for a while here & we’re not even getting into deep cuts yet. He has an entire album named “The Rainbow Children”.

My first priority for tomorrow is to be a decent mom, because I’ve been detoxing from my long-standing to-do list addiction for the last couple of weeks & it’s making me less of the mom I want to be, plus I keep accidentally reading books in which bad things happen to children (just read one in which two kids are fucking electrocuted on a electric fence, WTF forever, & I should mention it was not fiction) & that makes me basically want to cherish Ramona forever & stop anything bad from ever happening to her, including a single moment of boredom or sadness. But! If I can over-stimulate her with my love & attention in the morning, maybe she will nap, & I can do some sewing in the afternoon. & I have some new stuff to show in the meantime. Watch this space! Same bat time, same “Batdance”.

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