"Oh My Gosh"....Breaking Down With Usher

OMG…Call me crazy, but this Usher song makes me move.


Let me love you down..

clap clap clap clap

there is so many ways to love ya.

Oh my God, I’m so in love.. I finally found you….you make me want to say…oh.oh.oh.oh.

My shoulders are shifting up and down…

and my booty is moving pow pow pow….

check check check it …checking you out….I’m getting down like in Animal House--lower and lower...I'm grooving....

It makes me feel sexy…I just want to dance and sway.

You make me want to say…oh.oh.oh.oh. Oh My Gosh…..

oh.oh.oh.oh. My foot is tapping; my body is moving….

my oh my…..fly so fly….my oh my…

.Ohhhhh, baby you got it all. Sexy from the head to toe. Baby I want it all.

Oh my Gosh..I’m so in love…I finally found you finally. Honey let me love you down. There are so many ways to love ya.

Okay. Here’s the story…I am majorly stressed out because while my husband was watching my son play lacrosse someone smashed his driver’s side window and plucked out his wallet from our car. Yes, my husband is from another time and feels like all is good in the world and that no one would ever do such a thing. Today was a reality check. Not only were there credit cards and more…but that wallet had sentimental value, too. It was his father’s wallet and still had some of the contents in it, such as his father’s wedding picture and his driver’s license. His father died 3 ½ years ago from wretched leukemia. So, that is why I am cranking music and letting it out…with music. Like the 80's tune, "We Can Dance If We Want To..."  Keep your things, safe people. Stay safe. Peace….Now, time for Mozart or Celtic tunes to soothe my stressed out soul. - SSdh

So…Was Getting Hit By The Church Basket Good Luck After All? Was It A Sign?

Hard to say, …YET. I did get an article published in MORE magazine’s website. I did meet some fabulous authors at a Book Signing at Pindar over the weekend. And I perhaps, crossed paths with an angel with a scary last name (kind of ironic, actually) that could lead me to new opportunities.


So, maybe that lump on my noggin’ was worth something after all. Things aren’t moving for me as fast I’d like, and I still feel the need to paint and write to release some pent up emotions. That is actually normal and healthy as opposed to locking it inside and letting it damn up until I explode on somebody in a PMS volcanic eruption. That has happened and it is not pretty. My co-worker never knew the meaning of the word PMS until she met me. When I breeze into the office and announce that my period arrived last night, she actually falls back against her chair and sighs in relief like she had just run the marathon or something. What? “Oh, thank God. I made it through this month.” Geez. Am I that bad? Well, yeah, I can be. I think right now I’m PMS’ing and she poured me some tea…come to think of it. She looks like a nervous rabbit and is kind of tip-toeing around me. I’m cranky, yes. I’m tire, yes. Oh, crap. I am PMS’ing.

I digress. Back to the church basket. I guess, if I want to see major good luck or a sign from above instantly, I suppose, I needed to be clonked on the head unconscious. Patience, my dear. Patience. Something of which, I sorely lack. I want it NOW! (PMS talking.) When the tears arrive, it’ll be over soon. P.s. I don’t really recommend sticking your head up for your own collision when the usher comes by with the church basket. Dog doo never worked either.