Like singing in the shower or car

I was trying to figure out how to eloquently put into words news that I'm excited to share, but all I could come up with were story examples-so I'm going to trust my gut and hope this makes sense. I sing in the shower. I sing in my car. I mean I REALLY sing in my car...as long as it's just me and sometimes B. After years of singing in competition groups when I was in school I'm able to hold my own, but don't ever think I'm going to take a mic and sing a solo for a crowd. I sing for me, for my dog (don't judge me), my friend's little children, but mostly for me because I like to. I belt it out when I am alone, but when others are around I tone it down for them because I love them and their ears.

Now imagine sitting in your car alone, belting it out when (insert whatever singer you love) drives up next to you at a stoplight. You don't notice because you are wrapped up in belting out the chorus, and then all of a sudden they comment, "Hey I like your singing. Want to come sing at my concert?" Don't even lie, you'd crap your pants right then and there. That's what I was feeling like the other day. Okay, in case you are totally lost as to where I am going with this here is my thought train pulling into the station for a connection.

We have already established that I write my little blog for me, and those of you who are interested are welcome to come along on the ride, but ultimately it's my outlet because therapy is too expensive and I am poor. Like all bloggers I have those sites that I look at as way out of my league and I could only hope to be like someday in the future. Well readers, I about crapped my pants when Grace the Spot contacted me because they like what I do over here. Seriously. My little blog feels like singing in the shower or car-and Grace the Spot is like a rock star that overheard me belting it out slightly off tune. As I have more details you know I'll be sharing it with you, because honestly there is no where/one else I can share it with-and would fully appreciate it. I'm left with a "holy crap" expression on my face and a short typed list of things I can write about over there.

Again in conclusion: Holy Crap.