Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
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How I Feel Today

I am proud of Serge. He's a good man. A good husband. A great father. I'm pleased that he's writing again. Not that I know firsthand but it's gotta be hard to be in a band for more than a decade, to earn all your self worth from that band, to identify yourself only as a musician... And then stop. All creativity gone. Just working hard and being a dad. I know that for Serge, in many ways, this was blessed relief from the chaos of being a road warrior with his brother Dave. Relief from the daily drama (and there is always drama) of being a band on the road.

He's written hundreds of songs over his time. Music. A creative outlet that garnered him immediate feedback in the form of cheering crowds, the opportunity to jam with his childhood idols and world travel. Now? Violet is his rapt audience. Granted Violet's 1000 megawatt toothless grins are worth more than a thousand jam sessions with The Boss, but still. When the music stops and the music is all you've known... What then? What's a man to do? What's a man to say? Who says he's a man anyway?

I am glad my man is saying what he needs to say. He writes unbelievable songs, songs that fans often credit his brother Dave with writing. This makes me crazy but Serge just shrugs his shoulders and changes the subject. It's how he and Dave roll but I'm all foot-stompy and indignant... YOU WROTE THAT NOT DAVE! YOU SHOULD GET CREDIT, DAMMIT! But it's how Serge and Dave roll. Every writing credit on their albums: All songs written by David and Serge Bielanko.

Anyway, am thrilled the manboy has found a new creative outlet that employs his writerly skills, even if it includes the occasional post that knocks the wind out of me and induces tears of heavy sadness over what has become of our once passionate romance. I can take it, though. It's all true. I'm a big girl and he needs to get it out.