Preoccupy: v., dominate or engross the mind of (someone) to the exclusion of other thoughts. For example:
Fancy drives to the high school, hereafter referred to as...Whatever High School (??) to choreograph her teacher friend's choir. While Fancy drives she imagines dance moves and how they will fit into 8 consecutive bars of music. She hears the music in her head.
Hit me with a hot note and watch me bounce! Hit me with a hot note and watch me bounce!
Fancy arrives at Whatever High School and parks in the visitor parking lot.
When trumpEHHHHHTS heat up, gimme a rug to beat up.
Fancy walks through the parking lot to the front doors of Whatever High School. Different song now.
I like to be in Ame-ri-ca. OK by me in Ame-ri-ca. (With a Puerto Rican accent, of course)
Fancy walks to the office where the secretary asks if she can be of any help. Fancy replies, "Yes. I'm here to choreograph for Whatever High School."
And all that jazz! Da dee dee daaaah dah dum, da dee dee daaaah dah dum....(Gunk, gunk) And all that jazz!
Secretary: OK, if I could just see some photo ID please. Fancy: Sure, no problem.
Step, kick, step, kick, step, kick, POSE! Da dee dee step, kick, step, kick, step, kick, POSE!
Secretary: Where did you say you were going again?
Fancy: Whatever High School
Shoulder....knee, and 1 and 2 and
Secretary: (eyebrows scrunched in perplexing form with head to one side)
To do...LUNGE....that....HAND....jaaaaazzz
Fancy: (realizing she is being weirdly stared at and wondering why. She raises her eyebrows in questioning form)
Secretary: RIght. Whatever High School...what. Where in Whatever High School?
Fancy: (Then realizing that she is already IN Whatever High School, speaking to the secreatry OF Whatever High School who, quite naturally, KNOWS Fancy is in Whatever High School) Oh, sorry, um, the choir room. The choir room is where I will be going. Thanks.
Monday, April 23, 2007
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7 comments:
You are mighty cute fancy.
**blushing**
What's sort of scary is when I arrive somewhere like this, deep in thought or conversation as I'm driving, and as I'm getting out of the car, start wondering how I drove that far without even thinking about driving at all. Did I stop at all the Stop signs? Go at Green Lights and stop at Red Lights? Make proper use of the passing lane, drive reasonably within the speed limit, etc?
'Cause damned if I can remember almost anything at all about the trip there, even though I was the one driving.
I'm just impressed that you were at the right school! I've moments like that where the secretary would have said, "Whatever High School is about 10 miles that way..." :)
Didn't you recently post something about your husband being ADD? Just wondering...
I'm telling you.
Karma
Ditto Truvyne's comment! Hee hee.
ADD stands for Absolute Day Dreamer!
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