I'm a LITTLE Giddy

Today is a Ukelele type day, am I right? I feel so great after conference. I especially loved the talk Sunday morning by our prophet about change and loving before change gives us loss/enjoying the journey type stuff. I haven't watched general conference online since like 1999--and even then the feed wasn't very good. Luckily, back when we couldn't just go watch it at church because church was in our living room, we had a satellite radio (no, not XM radio--it just got the tv signal from satellites like they have for tv stations--besides conference, we also would listen to "Walker, Texas Ranger" shows when it was really dull and we had no tv--you'd hear a lot of fabric rustling when they were fighting--come to think of it, that may be why I thought this post was so funny--and yes, I know I blogged it before). I was worried we would have to zoom down to the church building or something if conference wouldn't come in. Nope. We had a high-quality veiwing experience. Well, I guess being in the mission field isn't as rough as it used to be--makes me feel kinda old. . . pardon me while I go calculate my age now.

My Love Affair with Jazz

A-a-a-awhhhh. . . jazz. Forget whatever I said in my profile. . . there is no music but jazz. The honeyed tones accompanied by solos on romantic instruments, the excitement you can feel building in your toes all the way out to your arms. It gives me tingles in all the right places--more than tingles, actually, the fervor of it crawls all over my body. It's like all of those cliche occurences--maybe a first kiss--(although I never had a 1st kiss that wasn't staged--maybe like the 20th kiss?)--the way you feel when the man you love is down on his knee, and you know this time it's the real thing--no, I know, the way you feel reading Twilight. This is the music I can sing my heart out to. . . the stuff where I absolutely must get up and dance! Throw my arms up in the air! Puckishly run my fingers through my hair, and ignore the strange looks from the cat. Honestly, how can you not seductively sway your shoulders at least a little to "Girl from Ipanema?" "Everything" by Michael Buble is my favorite. There aren't many songs that make me quiver and shriek (much to the amusement of Joanna) everytime I hear them, but WOW! that song is exciting. ("Hey Ya" by Outkast does too, for some odd. Go figure.) That man is aptly named. "Buble" That's just what happens in my soul when I hear him sing. It "Buble-s." (not "bubbles," "Buble-s"--and don't forget the capital "B"). "Sway" makes me want to don a red sequined dress with a form-fitting skirt--slit to my knee on one side, long sleeves, thick red lipstick, fake eyelashes, and a large white flower in my hair. Mmmmm. . . and black stillettos. And of course I'm being twirled and dipped by my handsome husband--wearing an open white dress shirt and a black fedora too low over his eyes. . . and suspenders. Suspenders are hot. Can you see it? I want to go dancing!