Now Every Day is June

My baby sister had a baby.

I spend SO much time trying to promote myself and my music. Often eye-rolling, shameless self-promotion. I’ll try mostly anything for a good laugh or a certain amount of “likes, retweets, re-posts, comments, star-favorites.” I find myself looking forward to, almost LONGING for, those little red notifications on all my cyber Home pages. And if it’s a number higher than 2 or 3, well I guess that’s what a coke-head feels like when they get their candycaine (had to look this up in the drug slang dictionary, don’t worry). Heaven. Affirmation. LOVE um … ??? (side note. Facebook was MADE for birthdays. It’s almost debilitating joy for me on my birthday. Yes, I have issues.)

Or. Is it hell. Because 5 minutes later I’m driving on the interstate, frantically searching through my purse and taking my life and everyone else’s life into MY addicted-to-the-red-notifi-freakin-cation hands to check if the numbers have risen. Do I really associate love with a media site? Well, I mean, did you read the past few sentences? A huge pathetic, resonating, YES!

And then June entered the world. The day before she left my sister’s cozy womb-space and landed on earth, I posted a pretty picture from a photo shoot and got a measly 13 likes. In the hospital rocking chair, I held June and made my mother take a picture. 151 likes and 15 comments later, I felt like I was wigged out from gutter glitter (another drug slang dictionary word find). June stole the hearts of the entire cyber-space.

And then. She made me use my BRAIN and BODY with our very real human interactions (which was mostly my mom, “SAR, get her head, GET HER NECK!” and my sister, “don’t shake the baby”). I realized people weren’t giving ME affirmation by liking a picture. They were saying hurray for life and for a tiny human and for my sister contorting her body in ways that would impress the best performer of Cirque du Soleil.

Yesterday I got so mad at the spinning rainbow that forced me to sit still for 5 seconds that I started slapping at my keys, like my computer needed disciplining (or I guess that’s abuse). But as I’ve thought about June, I’ve had some revelations. My Home page… it is NOT home. And those red notifications… those are NOT people saying I LOVE YOU. They’re not even saying I LIKE YOU. They’re just passing through one of thousands of notifications and catching your random comment and thinking “hm” and sometimes, if it’s really good “cool.” But June. Oh man, June. Well, now every day is June. And she just lives. Feeds from my baby sis. Life. Body. Celebratory pee pee’s and good burps. She just sits there and looks at you. Now Every Day is June. That’s what I want to write about.

And as her aunt, I will NEVER ever ever ever allow her to get a facebook page.