Top Ten: I came to dance, dance, dance. . . . .

on Wednesday with Lisa K.

I came to dance, dance, dance, dance

I hit the floor

'Cause that's my plans, plans, plans, plans

I'm wearing all my favorite brands, brands, brands, brands

Give me some space for both my hands, hands, hands, hands

Yeah, yeah

'Cause it goes on and on and on

And it goes on and on and on, yeah

I throw my hands up in the air sometimes

Saying a-yo

Gotta let go

I wanna celebrate and live my life

Saying a-yo

Baby, let's go

~ from Taio Cruz' "Dynamite"

________________________________________________________

Man. It was quite a week. Some parts were eventful. Other parts less so. But overall I'd say my first full week as a forty two year-old woman wasn't too bad at all. The high points outweighed the annoying points, that's for sure.

Hey! I wrote a little top ten about it! Like to hear it? Here it go!

THE TOP TEN PARTS OF MY FIRST WEEK AS A BONA FIDE FORTY TWO YEAR-OLD GROWN ASS WOMAN

Leh-go!


#10  Refreshing!

Okay. So usually I don't go wandering up into Starbucks too often because I'm a little on the cheap thrifty side. But! When you have a birthday, people do things like sliding Starbucks gift cards into your birthday snail mail (Thanks, Crystal!)

And so. Armed with my free-to-be-frappachi(no) gift card, I rolled up into the Starbucks in Emory Village. The barista (why do we have to call them that?) asked me what I wanted and like always I got mad overwhelmed.

"Uhhhh, errrr, ummmm. Let's see."

"Something hot or cold?"

"Errrr, yeah. Okay. Cold."

"Caffeinated or not?"

"Neutral."

"Milk based or not?"

"You definitely don't want me to have any milk, bruh."

"Have you tried the refreshers?"

"The who?"

"The refreshers. Cool Lime is my favorite. And it's low calorie and no added sugar."

"No milk?"

"No, ma'am."

"Bet."

"Huh?"

"Oh sorry. That's slang for 'let's do this.'"

"Pardon?"

"I'll have the Cool Lime Refresher. Dang."

"Tall, Grande or Venti? Or Treinta?"

"Surprise me."

"How's a Grande?"

"Bet."

Wait. What's the point of sharing all of this? None whatsoever. I just want y'all to know that the Cool Lime Refresher is like a citrus party on your taste buds. Kind of like a guilt-free collision between a mojito and some lime juice without the rum.

Yum. And to think I have nearly twenty more dollars on my card. WOOT! WOOT!

#9  Do it for the story, man.

Okay. You know of my obsession with flash mobs. Clearly I have been waiting for the big moment to arrive where I got to either witness one or -- GAAAHH!!! -- be in one. And y'all! That big opportunity finally presented itself. YES!

Aren't you just SOOOO excited at the idea of me getting to be in a flashmob? I know you are!

Well. My friend Lisa K. teaches my step class and Body Pump classes at the Y--but she also happens to be the coordinator of wellness at an assisted living community. She's been working on a project about active aging and wanted to put on a flash mob with people of all ages. And so she started planning and, of course, called her flash mob obsessed friend to join in the fun.

And so. We learn the moves. We wear the requested colors. And we arrive in downtown Decatur at the appointed time. That appointed time was twelve noon on Wednesday and it turns out that there are a whooooole lot of folks that are actively aging in the Decatur area.

Like a whoooole lot.

So check it. You know how in a flash mob one person just randomly starts dancing and then others surprisingly join in -- astounding everyone with their knowledge of the choreography? Well. It turns out that the senior flash mob works a bit differently. And by differently I mean that at noon everyone got in their places and stood there with frozen jazz hands waiting for the music to come on. Like for at least two full minutes.

And me?  I'm all like, "HEY! You're supposed to just inconspicuously walk by and then break out with the moves! Stop with the jazz hands. Look normal!"

And the man I told was all like, "Vaaaaat?"

"Normal!"

"VAAATTTT?"

So I tried to explain again and he just kept saying the same thing until the music came on signaling that it was time for him to get his groove on. So all the jazz hands started moving in very slow, happy unison and as soon as we did, I was immediately super glad that I was there. Hell, even if we didn't surprise anybody with our sneak-attack choreography we were at least a mob. Even if we weren't a flashy one.

My favorite part was the seventy-seven year old woman next to me who was shouting out all the moves along with a constant eight-count. And she was mad loud, too, kind of like the lady on Dance Moms.

"Shuffle-one, two, three, down-four, five, six, shimmy-on-the-eight!"

And if you are clapping your hands and saying, "That's AWESOME!" while cracking up laughing. . . . know that it was twenty times more blogworthy than it even seems here.

Seriously, though? It was really fun. Talk about doing something for the story.

P.S. I'm still looking for a big ol' complicated flash mob to be in. If you get any ideas, holla at your girl.

#8 Salon on a Sunday!

Okay, so no. I didn't really get my hair done on a Sunday. But! The salon girls took me to a casual breakfast on Sunday. My awesome stylist Sakinah bought me a delicious mimosa and we all sat and yucked it up just like in the salon. We talked junk and discussed everything from politics to whether or not TJMaxx is more exhausting than Ross for Less. (Answer: Nothing is more exhausting than Ross.)

All we needed was a dude to walk in selling some peach cobbler and it would have been exactly like the beauty shop.

#7  Twenty years later!

We all met each other back in 1992 as first year medical students. Now, instead of young girls from Tennessee, California and Georgia, we're grown women with kids and doctorates. We reminisced on the crazy things we got into as med students and tried our best to get our minds around how we did anything social in the pre-cell phone era.

Those were the days!

#6  Good-byes SUCK!

I've been in denial about this. So much so that I haven't even uttered it aloud because it seems real when I do. My dear soul-friend David M. is leaving Grady to go work in Philadelphia. It's a great opportunity for him and I'm happy for him. But sad for me! Sad for me!

Yeah. So we had a going away dinner for him last week. It was cool. But I was sad. I still am.

#5 Cupcake Red Velvet!

I tried this for the first time because people kept telling me it was yum-tacular.

I concur!

#4  Drive-by Teaching

I snapped this picture today of one of our former residents doing some teaching and consulting on a complex EKG. Sonny--the one reading the electrocardiogram--is someone that I've known since his first day of internship. Seeing him now as a Cardiology fellow advising my colleague Schuyler and teaching all of us something that we didn't know warmed my heart. I love being in this kind of environment.

#3  These pictures are just cute.

I usually don't think they look alike. But here? Dang. They really do.

#2  Tuskegee Girls.

On Saturday, I spent some time with my sorority sisters. Sonya, who pledged with all of us, turned forty and had a big ol' party. Of course it was fun. It's always fun when we all get together.

#1 Look out Peyton and Eli. There's a new Manning in town.

Before anyone asks--yes, I am okay with my child playing football. Let's just stop there with that line of questioning and any worry-wart commentary that may or may not be tickling the tip of your tongue.

It took everything in me not to tackle him to the ground with smooches.

Okay. Where were we? Oh. Football! Yes! Can I please tell you how fun it is to be a football mama? Oh my GOSH. It's on a whole 'nother level! The energy is SO amazing, y'all.

Seeing him come in from practice all hungry and sweaty makes my heart ache. Something in my mind just fast forwards to him being a high schooler sitting at my same table.

Harry's a coach--and he really gets into the spirit. Peep those socks! Lawd.

And what's also SUPER awesome about all of this? Isaiah. He flat out expressed no interest in playing football but was fully supportive of his brother's desire to do so. (Isaiah says that he's "a fan of the feet and not of the hands" so has chosen to stick with soccer.)

Future David Beckham and Cam Newton

Look how laid back and genuinely encouraging he looks here. I just love that about both of them. They have their own interests. They are developing their own self images and marching to their own drums. Zachary announced that he wanted to play football this year. And since we love team sports for kids and grew up on them, we found a well organized league for him to join.

Y'all! He's fast, too!

And that Isaiah is playing soccer and also asked to join the Chess team. Which he sure did join. (Despite the fact that NO ONE in our house other than him knows the first thing about how to play chess.) Zachary made it very clear that he preferred anything other than the Chess club but he, too, listens and encourages Isaiah when he shares all the details.

Yep.

I just love this phase of life with my kids. I'm enjoying watching them discover who they are and what they love. I love seeing them try at things and hearing them discussing it when they're supposed to be fast asleep. These are special times.

Whelp! Gotta go to bed so that I can rest my vocal chords. Lots of hollering goes on at those games. And just a wee bit of trash-talking!

***
Happy Almost-Saturday. And may the Flash-Mob be with you.

And now playing. . .Zachary's favorite, favorite song.

Top Ten: Monday Night Randomness.

Hey good people!  It's Monday-almost-Tuesday and even though I don't have much to write about today my hands are on the keys like they have a mind of their own. Those who write know how it is. Sometimes you just have to write. I guess those who read have something similar but with reading, yes? Maybe? Hmmm. I guess.

Yawn.

Hmm. What to talk about?  Hey! How about a top ten? Don't mind if I do.

Top ten . .top ten. . .uhhh. . .hmmm. What witty thing can we discuss? Gosh. I'm feeling so random and silly right now. Hey! Let's just do this:

TOP TEN SUPER RANDOM THINGS I'M PONDERING 

ON A MONDAY LATE AT NIGHT.

And let me just give this disclaimer, people. On a scale of one to ten, this is likely to be a one point five as far as importance. You will likely learn absolutely nothing of great use to your life. In fact, at this very moment I don't know what this is going to be. (That's how it goes down when your hands just leap onto the keyboard and start going crazy with randoms.)

In other words, read at your own risk. If you're new and heard that this blog was really deep and thought-provoking, please peep my archives to the right which at times do get deep and thought-provoking.

Here we go.


#10  The Real Hot-Mess Housewives of Atlanta

O.M. expletive G.

I made the mistake of watching the reunion show for the popular Bravo series last night which, seriously? I . . .just. . .uhh. . .yeah. Man. . .let me tell you. . .I'm all for some fun and some shenanigans. But this? Wow. Two words: Train. Wreck.

Oh heck.  Let me just say what I was really feeling last night and what I said to the BHE:

"Dude. Is it me or is this a lightweight disgrace to the race?"

Before he could answer, Nene Leakes went off into a finger-snapping tirade to another cast member about how, "I'm RICH, BOO!" She was also rolling her eyes so hard that they were about to roll out of her head. As a matter of fact, she said "boo" no less than seven hundred and sixty two times. And poor Andy Cohen sitting in the middle of it all. Well, I take that back. Andy Cohen is the executive producer for all the Real Hot-Mess shows, so he was actually going CHA-CHING with every "boo" and every neck roll.

Okay, for real. I keep saying, "This is the very last time I will ever watch this mess."

This time I mean it. I'm done. Yes. Dunzo.

(Like as soon as I see part two and part three. Because I think somebody get's their wig pulled off or their weave pulled out. )

Then, I'm done. For real.

#9  "Mars Needs Moms. "

And Disney needs movie ideas. Obviously.

I watched this movie "Mars Needs Moms" with my kids on Saturday on cable. Essentially, Martians come to Earth and kidnap moms to suck all the mom-ness out of them to give to Martian moms. The story surrounds a boy who is mad at his mom, gives her some lip, and then finds that she's getting snatched up by Martians when he comes to apologize to her. Crazy, right?

It's an animated film, but am I tripping or is that a creepy concept? Obviously, the mom gets rescued but early into it, Zachary looks at me and says, "This is not a nice movie, Mama."  And he kept climbing all on top of me and clutching my neck while it was on.

Eventually it got kind of silly so the kids were fine. But old man Isaiah says toward the end, "Why would somebody think kids would want to watch a movie where moms get taken away? That's terrible."

Turns out that Isaiah would have been a good focus group. The movie didn't do too well and interestingly, when it was in theaters the boys had no desire to see it. They only agreed to see it Saturday because it was coming on on a cable channel.

"Hey kids! Let's kidnap your mom and have her nearly die trying to get back to you! No--wait. . . but it's okay. . . we're going to animate it with that creepy real-looking animation so it will look real but not BE real. And it's from the Disney studios so it won't be as bad of a concept as it sounds. . .hey. . .wait. . .where are y'all going? Why are y'all crying?"

Verdict:  FAIL.

#8  Mad love for Rihanna.

Rihanna. I'm kind of disappointed in Rihanna. Which stinks because I'm a fan of her music.

Unless you were under a rock, you saw the dreadful photos of the young singer after her then boyfriend and fellow artist, Chris Brown, tried to put her head through a car window a couple of years ago. Leaving her all kinds of black and blue. Horrible, I tell you. Just heartbreaking.

I guess he had mad love for her, alright. Dang. That just made me mad typing it.

Grrrr.

Well. I was listening to this catchy song on the radio the other day while getting ready for work. Harry likes the radio and I don't so of course this was while hanging out with him. So I hear this song. And yes, it's kind of catchy. So I bop my head and snap my fingers.

Actually the song is a bit risqué and nothing I'd allow my kids to hear. . . but catchy nonetheless. So I say to Harry, who's up with the latest music (unlike his NPR and podcasty wife), "Hey, who is this singing? It's kind of catchy."

"That's your girl," he replied. Which seems to be his standard cryptic answer for ANY person that I have EVER mentioned at any point in my entire life. If I say their name, they automatically become "my girl" or "my boy." Particularly if it's someone I don't care for.

But I digress.

Well, that catchy song? It's with Chris Brown. Yes. Yes! The same Chris Brown who tried to open a car door with her face not even two years ago. Singing about some sort of tryst or party that they'd like to have together -- with some non-G-rated activities planned.

As soon as I heard his voice, I froze and looked at Harry. Then I was like, "WHAT THE WHAT???"

And of course, Harry says, "Yep. Crazy, right? That's your boy singing with her."

And let me clarify. Chris Brown? My boy?  Not. Even. 

And Rihanna singing with him on a top ten hit now? That is WACK. WACK, I tell you.

That's all I'll say on that for now.

#7  They are young. We are not.



This song came on when we were at the beach and seriously? My tweenaged nieces and their tweenaged buddies all sang every single word at the top of their lungs. As a matter of fact, my eight year-old niece was right there with them.

But here's the thing. I had Never. Heard. This. Song. In. My. Life.

How apropos that it's called "We are young." Because realizing that a song popular enough for them ALL to know every single lyric yet totally unfamiliar to me is telling. Telling me that I am crossing into a new level of grown. Or old. Depending upon who you ask.


#6  Hold up. Rihanna, you did what?

I have to go back to this Rihanna thing once more. I'm saying, Rihanna! A duet? With Chris Brown? Seriously? Seriously?!!

Man. What a crappy message to send when you have that major platform and the attention of so many kids. Boo hiss. Dang. You get punched in the grill, the whole world sees it, and you even talk to Diane Sawyer about it. Then you . . .wait huh? You come out with a club-banger (oh, not a real club but a song that is in heavy rotation in clubs) with your . . .Ike Turner?

Chile please.

See? This is when I miss the Oprah Show. She needs to go on Oprah so Maya Angelou can ambush her as a surprise guest, rolling up on her all wise-like and saying something deep like, "My beloved little sistaaaaaaa. . . . . when you know better, you do better." Or something like that.

Rihanna. Rihanna! This is a FAIL. Boo hiss. Hiss boo.

Okay. Now I'm done with that, for real.

#5  Good times.

These goofy pictures with Zachary make me happy.  He loves to hop on my lap when I'm working or writing so whenever he does, I stop and play with him (if it's not his bedtime.) Or we do this. Take silly pictures with the "Photobooth" thingy on the MacBook Pro.

Love that kid.

#4  Off the fizzy drink!

Hey! This is almost the end of my third month off of soda. Yep. Gave up my once to twice daily Diet Coke habit because I kept reading things about how it adversely affects your waistline. And no, studies don't suggest that they cause obesity, but there is good data that shows that people who drink diet drinks have bigger waistlines. I would tell you what percent more, but it would break your heart if you love Diet Coke as much as I do.

As for me and my experiment? It has translated to five pounds lost without trying or changing anything. I do think not having soda has made me drink more water and just maybe has desensitized my "sweet tooth" a bit. Allegedly, artificial sweeteners send wacky messages to your satiety center and they also make you crave sweets more. Allegedly.

Regardless of all that, the five pounds I lost aren't alleged. I'm just saying.

#3  Mary don't you weep. 


Should I even go here? Oh heck. Why not. This post couldn't get more random than it already is anyway.

The crazy Mary J. Blige Burger King commercial. Have you seen this?



I just. . .uhh. . . .yeah. No. It didn't strike me as racist or whatever a whole bunch of people said when they saw it. I mean. She's the Queen of Hip Hop Soul for crying out loud. And she's using some hip hop soul to endorse crispy chicken wrapped in a tortilla with fresh lettuce. Dang. Lighten up, people!

But it's such. . .a bad commercial, man. Whose idea was that? Aaaahhhh. . .Mary.

*snicker*

No. Not racist or degrading or any of that to me. Just. . . it just struck me as. . . weird . . .and like . .huh? Hold up. . .is that Mary J. Blige standing on top of a table in Burger King? Wait. Is this Saturday Night Live? Am I getting punked?

Let me hit rewind and watch it one more time. Am I the only one who saw that?

I admit. I love her but. . . .this is sort of a fail for Mary. We've got to talk to that publicist of hers. Quick.

BUT. Burger King did not punch Mary J. Blige in the head and give her two black eyes the day before the Grammys. So as far as I'm concerned, get your chicken wrap jingle on Mary. But don't be mad when I laugh because for whatever reason you popping up out of that table his L-O-L funny no matter how many times I watch it.

(And yes. I've seen the spoofs which, to me, weren't nearly as funny as the original and that, unlike the original, bordered on offensive to me.)

#2  People change.

Hand over heart, not even exaggerating. My friend Lesley M. has been helped in the Target checkout line at least three times by Teenage Mutant Target Checkout Chick. And y'all!! Allegedly she has bordered on friendly! Yes!!!

I have had TMTCC about two or three times since our original run in. The last time, she actually asked me how I was doing. After I fainted and then got back up, I told her I was fine.

There is hope for this world, I tell you! Hope!!

#1 And hey! Speaking of Target.

Here's a little flash mob action for you. In TARGET, no less. Shout out to David M. for hipping me to this one.

Y'all! How did the universe know to combine two of my favorite things? Target and. . . a flash mob? Cannot. Even. I just. Can't.



You're welcome.

***
Now that I've thoroughly wasted your time and brain cells. . .  . Welcome to Tuesday!

That's all I've got. What do y'all have?

There is good in this world.

My friend Lisa R. over at Smacksy shared this on her blog today. Many of you may have seen it already, but this morning was the first I'd heard of it.  I watched it and cried like a baby. Man. There is good in this world. There is. In a time of horrible crimes and crazy in this world here is a glimpse of simple goodness.

The very last line of it made me cry the hardest. It's what we all hope our kids can say someday.



***
Thanks, L.

DSW: DON'T SHOP WITH (little kids.)

Why I won't shop for me-shoes with my children ever again:

Isaiah:  "Did you have to bring us to the mall, Mom?"

Zachary: "Yeah, Mama. We don't like the mall!"

Me: "What? This isn't even the mall! It's DSW."

Isaiah:  "A shoe place for ladies is the mall, Mom."

Me:  "Or not."

Zachary:  "What about these shoes?"  (holding up a 12 inch purple stacked stiletto)

Me:  "Not really Mommy's style, Zachy."

Isaiah:  "My wife is never going to wear shoes like that!" (frowns at Zachary's selection.)

Me:  "Well, that's a relief to hear."

Isaiah:  "Or that."  (Points at the shoe in my hand.)

Zachary:  "How about this one, Mama?"  (Now holding a yellow rain boot.)

Me:  "I'm good on rain boots, but thanks bud."

Isaiah:  "What are you even looking for, Mom?"

Me:  "I'll know when I see them. . . oooohhh. . .hello pretty platform sandal!"

Isaiah: "Those look very weird, Mom. What's wrong with the shoes you're wearing?"

Me:  "Nothing at all. I'm a girl that likes shoes."

Isaiah:  "Do all girls like shoes?"

Me:  "This one does."

Isaiah: "I'm going to sit on this little seat right here until you finish."

Me: "That would be fantastic."

Zachary:  "Do you like this shoe right here, Mama?"  (holding up a very scary, ratty flip flop.)

Me: "Zachary! That's MY flip flop!"

Zachary:  "Oh."

Isaiah: "I think these chairs are for boys. They have them all over the whole store."

Me: "They're actually for the Mommies who want to try on shoes. See the mirror at the bottom?"

Isaiah: "Why would somebody make whole store with shoes only for girls? That isn't very nice."

Me:  "That's a matter of opinion."

Zachary: "Mama! You HAVE to like this one. I bet you Daddy would like this!" (Another scary stiletto.)

Me: "Most men would like that I bet."

Isaiah:  "Do you have a lot of other stuff to do at this mall?"

Me: "I told you--this isn't the mall."

*silence for a moment*

Isaiah:  "Mom?"

Me:  "Sir?"

Isaiah:  "We don't like the DSW either. Just so you know."

Zachary: "Hey does this mall even have a toy store?"


Shoes coveted and tried on:  Four
Varieties of suggestions from Zachary: Seventy-seven
Number of complaints from Isaiah:  Forty-three
Pairs of shoes purchased:  Zero.

This should have been a hint of what was to come.

***

Speaking of the Mall -- I can't stop watching this. (Y'all know how obsessed I am with flash mobs!)

***
And one more OMG moment:

Walking into Chili's today:

Me:  "Hustle up, gentlemen."

Zachary:  "Mama, I'll hold the door, okay?"

Me: "That's sweet, bud. Thanks."

A youngish lady and two men walk up behind us as Zachary is hoisting his entire body against the heavy door. Isaiah and I walk in side by side and Zachary promptly lets go of the door -- nearly flattening the lady's face like a pancake. Before I can speak, Isaiah scolds him.

Isaiah:  "Zachary! You're supposed to hold the door for her, too! She's a lady!"

Me:  "Ma'am, I'm sorry."

Lady:  "Oh no problem." (goodnatured chuckle)

Zachary:  "Sor-reee."

Lady:  "No problem, sweetie." (warm, fuzzy, patient smile)

Isaiah:  "She's having A BABY, Zachary! You could have slammed the DOOR on HER BABY!"

*silence*

I slowly turn around to look at the lady.

So. Not. Pregnant.

Ooophh!

Uuuuuhh. . . .yeah. Welcome to my so-called life outside of Grady.

***
Hope your day didn't involve malls, quasi-malls, or false accusations of pregnancy.

Speaking of great gifts. . . .GAAAHH!!

SO EXCITED!!

Alright--here's the apology in advance for yet another non-medical post. But, y'all! I have to tell you about this!!

No. I did not win the lottery or some big award. All this excitement is over something I saw on television. Uhhh, sorry.

Anyways--I cannot stop talking about and watching this. Seriously? Cannot. Okay. So this image above is from the Bravo television show "It's a Brad, Brad World" -- which admittedly I don't watch other than on random weekend marathons -- but for whatever reason, I caught yesterday evening.

So glad I did!

Okay, so check it. Brad and his partner Gary were celebrating their tenth anniversary and they threw this big ol' swanky backyard shindig. All kinds of beautiful people there, but mostly good friends from different stages in their lives. Other than the fact that they have a bunch of money, it seemed a lot like a very nice dinner or cocktail party that any of you would plan for your own friends.

Well. Gary gets up to give a toast to Brad. Both of them are pretty chatty dudes so it didn't surprise me that he had a bunch of very sweet things to say which got Brad all verklempt. He talked about how they met and how within hours of meeting how they were singing songs from Les Miserables at the tops of their lungs. Then everyone quieted down when Gary talked about how he knew right away that this was the person he'd fall in love with.

Now me? I don't care who you are or how many X chromosomes you or your sweetheart have. I'm just a sucker for a good love story. And love at first sight in the Mykonos? Man. That's my kind of love story. (Also, I'm sort of rooting for Brad since Rachel Zoe that designer lady on the show he spun off from isn't always so nice to him.) Yeah. So I was happy to learn that Brad is happily boo-ed up.

So yep. Even though I was channel surfing last night, once I got to this mushy love story, I stayed on the channel and watched the whole thing.'Cause I'm all about hearing about some love.

Anywho. Gary is talking and everyone there is looking all doe-eyed and love-filled and happy for them. Including me from my couch. So THEN, Gary just abruptly stops talking--which does catch me by surprise because, like I said, these dudes love to talk. In fact,  I have no idea how those two get a word in edgewise with one another.

But I digress.

So, yeah, the talking was over. Gary said something about how sometimes words don't suffice and then. . . . he just stopped talking.

And then this. Y'all!

A BROADWAY FLASH MOB!! 

GAAAHH!!

Best. Surprise. Ever. Loved it, loved it, LOVED IT. O. M. expletive. G.

Okay.

Y'all. Y'all!! A Broadway Flash Mob? Seriously? Seriously. I am beside myself!

Okay, this is totally on my bucket list.  To have someone put one on for me, or hell just to be in one. And no, I cannot sing. But neither could Gary and he was in this one!

If you plan a Broadway Flash Mob in your backyard--I'm your girl. For real.

Yes, Mom. For your sixty-fifth YOU wanted us all to have dinner with you. But me? I want folks to break out in song. And not just any ol' song either. . . .

BROADWAY song, baby. Woo hooooo!

Just in case you are wondering, any track from RENT will do. Ah hem.

That reminds me--have I ever told y'all about the day that Harry almost divorced me when I held him captive in the movie version of RENT?

Harry:  "Is he. . .  singing?"

Me:  "Yeah, babe."

Harry:  "Wait. . .why is he still singing? Wait. . . .aww hell no! Why is he singing, too?"

Me:  "It's a musical,babe."

Harry:  "Is that. . . TAYE DIGGS? Wait. . what the. . why in the HELL is TAYE DIGGS SINGING?!? AND THE DUDE FROM LAW AND ORDER, TOO?!? WHAT THE HELL IS THIS YOU GOT ME WATCHING?!?"

Um, yeah. (And I may or may not have censored that a bit.)

See? NOW you know that the likelihood of the BHE  arranging or singing in a Broadway flash mob for me is about the same as him growing a big round afro and then perming it straight like James Brown. Yes. That means that this dream falls squarely on the shoulders of all of you.

So? So who's in? Who's down for being in my Broadway flash mob? Well?

*eyebrows raised, big goofy smile and feverish head-nodding*

Uhhh. . .hello? Where'd all y'all go. . . .

***
(You can use this one for me.)