…the BS goes on. Drum keeps pounding a rhythm to the brain. La de da de de, la de da de da….

Okay, so I got a bit distracted last fall and forgot all about my mad crush on Blake Shelton. I was over him, baby – he was dead and gone from my mind….until it returned, that is, in true crush form. I started thinking about him again. Started to wonder about the guy. I dreamt about him again, a bright and shiny lucid dream in which he was supporting me in my author career, telling me to stay true to my inner knowings. Oh, the muse takes many forms. Began to re-consider going on his Blake Shelton Cruise next fall. Hmmmm, should I? Shouldn’t I? The official sweetie pie keeps calling me crazy, reminding me that country music is not my thing.

“But it’s BLAKE SHELTON,” I repeat. “The guy will be on the CRUISE!”

“We don’t like cruises, you know that. You call them trapped at sea with strangers and I call them a waste of time.”

“You don’t get it – BLAKE SHELTON will be on the cruise,” I repeat, persistent that he sees my way of thinking.

“Whatever,” he says, wandering out of the room. “I hope you come to your senses soon enough.”

TRACE ADKINS will be there!” I respond. “You remember liking the guy when we saw him on Celebrity Apprentice, right?”

“Yeah,” he responds from the other room. “Can’t say that I’d want to cruise with him, though.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” I huff.

“It’s where I want it to be,” he replies, “when we scuba dive or kayak or travel together.”

Okay, so he just doesn’t get it. I can live with that. Imagine my surprise when a dear friend calls me up last week and says, “Hey, want to go to a Blake Shelton concert with me?”

Do I!? I love what the dude stands for – he seems to be all about being true to oneself, even if the world disagrees. I like to think that my life rolls in such a manner. But I still haven’t mended my hillbilly bone, you know the one that was crushed and pulverized when I was 12 years old. And I still don’t really like Country Western music. But what can I say? When opportunity comes a’ knocking you seize it, right? I’ll be there, front seat, back seat, it makes no matter. As long as I get to see the guy, I’ll drool with the rest of the sweet young things. Come next week, that’s where I’m headed. I’ll keep you posted on how it turns out. As always, I’m ever curious how this thing will play out and I’ll bet you might be wondering, too. Or not….makes no matter….I will keep you informed!

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