queen of california

last night, i attended a private event to publicize maria shriver's new book.
it's about living your own "wild + precious life" + being your authentic self.
she was on the view from the bay yesterday + on the oprah show recently.
watch both online videos to learn about her book 'just who will you be?'

my daughter is into princesses + doesn't understand about politics, so i told her i was going to a party to meet the queen of california, but it was just for mommies (she thinks all moms have blogs). she's already met the king of san francisco (mayor gavin newsom), so she's used to royalty.

mod*tot knew she couldn't attend the party, but she hoped to get a glimpse of the queen. we were outside the building playing ring-around-the rosie + talking to the fbi looking man in a dark suit with a curly phone cord behind his ear, waiting for my husband to pick mod*tot up, so i could go into the bookstore, when all of a sudden the biggest black suv pulled up to park + we could see maria in the passenger seat. mod*tot jumped up onto a bench + started waving her hands wildly over her head + shaking her butt.

luckily, maria was stunningly gorgeous with long curly hair + decked out in high heels, a dark skirt with jacket + long sparkly rosary beads with a cross,
so she did look very regal. mod*tot yelled, "hello queen! hello queen!" maria + her entourage laughed + paused to look at mod*tot with her pretty pink dress + exuberant smile. maria told her, "but, i'm not a queen. see?
i don't have a crown. you're the queen. your mom's the queen."

it was nice of her to talk to mod*tot, but mod*tot knows maria's the queen.