And that is why you don't let your mind wander.

Tonight, in order to conserve battery in the event that the car flipped off the road rendering me the only passenger left with their ability to dial cell phone numbers, I turned my cell phone off while I was at dinner and the mall with some friendpals. It's a rare occasion that I turn off my phone, but due to my inherited "survival mode" gene, I switch off at one bar remaining. (To give you an idea of where this gene might come from, [besides the obvious answer of years of evolution and the development of the "fight or flight" response], in the basement of my suburban home lies more than 70 three-gallon bottles of spring water, approximately 100 rolls of standard white toilet paper, and a few cases of thyroid protectant iodide pills in the event of nuclear warfare.) (This is not an exaggeration and I would appreciate you not mentioning to my father that I divulged this information at risk of being kicked out of my home for sacrificing the family to the mobs that are predicted to develop at our home during wartimes once this information is leaked.) Anyway. When I finally turned my phone back on, I was excited when it let out a soft rumble- letting me know so delicately that I had a voicemail. I opted for the "listen later" option so that I could prepare for bed and listen to my mystery message as a little pre-bedtime treat!

Once secured under my covers, arty to my right, I called up my answering service, keyed in my top secret password (1-6-3-NOT), and waited for my sweet little bionic lady friend to utter "you have 1 new voice messages." (True, 1 is not plural and therefore does not warrant an 's', but grammar is something we do not hold the cyborgs accountable for. That is all their human counterparts.) It took me a second to realize what was going on at the other end of the previously recorded line, but then the familiar noise sped through my eardrums, raced through my brain, warmed my heart, and enticed butterflies in my stomache. It was none other than Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On," the infamous ending credits piece to perhaps one of the most romantic/heroic/chilling(ice burg) movies of our time, Titanic.

Naturally, I immediately became giddy over the prospect of who could have left such a heartfelt song. This is obviously some sort of romantic gesture, I thought. For maybe 4 nanoseconds I thought- "LEO! It's you! You read my blog and have come to sweep me off of my non-married feet!" In the next few seconds that followed, I quickly raced through my mind who could be so enamored of me- "You know, he WAS kind of looking at me differently the other night" "Oh! One time me and him talked about ocean liners!" etc.

Then- a peculiar noise. What is that! Is that the c.d. skipping?? No. Sounds more like a cat choking. It's someone singing along! The song cut out! Celine! LEO! At the other end I hear the following words, "Hey, I'm back from Canada and in town. Call me back, Ho."




It was Katie Finnegan.




Too desolate to blog on, more tomorrow.