Thursday, September 6, 2012

Say My Name. I SAID SAY MY NAME.


Today was one of those days that you want to call in to your job and risk your vacation time for a little peace and quiet.  And a bottle of wine at 10 am.  Since I decided to be responsible I figured I had two choices. I could either A) crawl into my manager’s office and explain in long lengthy detail the Ebola symptoms I’ve experienced in the last 24 hours and cross my fingers he’d let me go home for the day, or B) find some good music to tap my toe to until the feeling of wanting to curl up under my desk and spoon the recycling bin passed.

Being the company gal that I am, I chose to brace myself and find some music to jam too. Then the heavens opened and the universe gave me the most precious gift one could receive on a day like this. It gave me the Spice Girls Pandora station. Holy sh*tballs.

I began promptly with “Spice Up Your Life”. I swear on my first born second born Tucker than no one can listen to this song without getting up from your chair and bouncing around the room with a hair brush.  Or stapler, depending on your location.  Bless their hearts. Those girl's platforms and pleather danced their way into my psyche and before I knew it I was on a stage with bright lights and screaming fans. I was a Spice Girl AND I WAS AWESOME.  Click on the link below to indulge.  I won't tell a soul.  Promise.




The next diddy Pandora gifted me with was none other than a track from those saucy divas Destiny’s Child and their super mega hit from the 90’s “Say My Name”. They broke onto my early morning scene with their take-that-mother-effer song and made me feel like kicking every dude within reach in the…ummm…SHINS.  Here's the video in the event it's been 10 years since you heard the tune (which is highly likely):




Let me give you some insight into The Romantic History Of Lindsey. I met my husband when I was 19, fell in love immediately, and never looked back. He’s a nice guy. He's hot. Not a cheater, liar, or swindler. He Says My Name on a regular basis and I like it.

My history prior to Husbo was a very nice boy in high school who informed me of his crush by shoving a mixed tape full of Marvin Gaye and Ginuwine into my hands after Chemistry. He brought me soup and a beanie baby when I had the flu. Flowers on every date. As soon as I recovered from said flu, I promptly broke up with him because our last date consisted of “parking “ at a church and making out long enough to draw hearts in the windows when we were done. Then I got the flu. You can see why, although he was the boy every teenage girl dreams of, I had to end it. I had Dave Matthews concerts to go to and pot to smoke in my friend’s attic. Aw.

Clearly I have never been in a position to know what it feels like to have your heart ripped out, stomped on, then casually tossed aside. Yet, when I belted out the lyrics (in my head) to this “Say My Name” song I swear to god, I knew what it felt like ya'll. That’s how good Destiny’s Child is. Even when you’ve only ever dated nice boys who treated you right, when they sing about boys running game and acting shady and not calling me baby,  I felt them. That is the power of a good song my friends.

Amen and hallelujah for Pandora. It makes my days spent in a flesh colored cube under fluorescent lights not so bad. If you were a person Pandora, I would insist you meet me for a beer. Then I would toast to you and get you drunk on Bud Light.  Cheers!






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