Am I the only one that needs to stop whatever I'm doing when the song "Lean on Me" by Bill Withers comes on and sing loudly accompanied by some killer dance grooves? No? Anybody?
One of the very few happy memories I have from my younger school years was being in chorus. A group that was always chaotic and undisciplined and couldn't care less about what our teacher wanted to get us to sing....unless it was either "Lean on Me" or "Carol of the Bells". For some reason, those two songs sung a Capella meant that we suddenly became devote singing students, well behaved and ready to PERFORM. They're just that fun to sing. (I'd also bust serious groove this holiday season whenever a good version of "Carol of the Bells" came on. SING IT, girl, SING IT. Oh I will. And watch me move my butt awkwardly in a formation that belies the fact that I have no skill.)
A little inappropriate sharing for this lovely, rainy Friday:
I have to go in to get my boobs checked out because I have a cyst or two...my primary Dr is not worried and thinks that it might have something to do with my caffeine consumption (NO, DEAR GOD, NO! Don't take my coffee away!!). Regardless, my Dr assures me it's not a big deal sostopfreakingout, and in order to be a "responsible lady" I must get them checked on.
I was sharing this all with my Mom and my little sister, who's here for the weekend, and talking about how I was I nervous to get a mammogram and get an ultra sound and "is it gonna hurt? are they taking my coffee from me?" I just wanted to let the world know that BOTH my Mother and my sister wanted to demonstrate on my boobs how it would feel, "it's not gonna hurt that bad, only this bad, c'mere, let me show you...." resulting in my screeching and holding onto my boobs for dear life running away.
Is every body's family as crazy as mine? I love them to death, but they will be the death of me.
You're welcome for all this lovely sharing. Boobs. Just needed to put it there one more time.