...and it's not the way that you dance

as i'm prone to do while in the mini, i completed my trip home from work last night with a bit of dancing (you'd dance too if it was 12 degrees out and the heat didn't kick in until you pulled in the garage. ok, it's a 10 minute trip, but you feel a little sorry for me, don't you? what? you just wish you could have seen the dancing? nice...)

last night's drive was complemented by random song choices i've no better way to describe than perfection (yep, i just brought my pinched fingers to my lips for a little toss off kiss after typing that). a little icicle works, some omd. i was in heaven. then came a flock of seagulls and baby, i was compelled to seriously go all out, and this particular track was the dance mix, so technically, when the title commands, you do as you're told.

that delicious synth beat kicks in and it's on, baby. arms going (one at a time when necessary for i travel a winding road) and hips rotating (yes, it's possible while seated and buckled. i'm a master at this), i'm this close to going over the edge when i very nearly go over the ditch. it was then i realized, of course, that i'm just a slave to the music.

it was perfect timing that upon steering my way into recovery, britney's "baby one more time" came on (now, now. you have your tastes. i have mine). i thought how lucky i was to have been able to maintain control of the mini and not face the possibility of having to crawl out of the window sans panties. of course, for that to happen, my kicky black pants would've had to vaporize, but that's just a pesky detail. rescue teams probably would've found my bra a few feet away, though, because that stupid thing came off as soon as i was able to shrug it. a nice thought, but you wouldn't have seen the kick ass rack plastered across the internet the next day.

and please, don't tell me you've not looked at britney's business. i've looked at britney's business. hell, i'll probably look the next time it happens (and you know it's going to...show me how you want it to be), even though i've yet to not make a face when it appears on screen.

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speaking of business, i must soon attend to mine. big appointment with my physician, dr. mcmakemefeelbadaboutmydietmt.dewhabit, this afternoon for my annual physical. it's not just called a pap test anymore.

actually, it should be called a date. god knows i put as much effort into getting ready for it as i would a date (shaving my legs and whatnot, slathering on lotions and such), and i'll obviously be putting out a little something before the visit's over. getting felt up and complimented on my good habits will undoubtedly be the highlight of this afternoon. because you so know i want a doctor who says, "well, well. that's some fine looking lady business you got there." yeah, i'd be blushing and giggling.

in retrospect, last night's roadside stumble - just as 'the flock' gave me the line "it's not the way you have your hair, it's not that certain style..." - was probably due to the fact that, while dancing, i was also thinking (seriously!) about what panties to wear to the doctor today and whether or not i should put some makeup on. because you're a curious bunch, i'll tell you that by the time i got home, i'd opted to go with the pink and purple polka dot boy cuts. and of course, i'm going to curl up the lashes a bit more than usual.

ok, maybe i don't put this much effort into a date night. but i will dance in the seats for you.

now it's off to dance my way through the shower for the early stages of prep. i'll leave you with that idea, along with the song that put me in my frenzy last night (sorry. no lady business, but if you want to see britney's again, i could provide you with numerous links). it's not the dance mix, but because i've commanded it personally, feel free to dance amongst yourselves.

A Flock Of Seagulls - Wishing (If I Had A Photograph Of You)