I can't sing, but I sure as hell may

One of my favorite pastimes is singing in my car with my windows down and stereo up.

When I do this, it’s usually not to the radio, unless I’m telling you how I’ll be there after the boys of summer have gone. Usually it’s to a carefully laid out cd I’ve burned, as my tape deck turn iPod jack died over a year ago. The most socially acceptable tracks I pick for this, I suppose, are the tracks from Girl Talk’s All Day album (although shouting “you about to get ran the f**k over” at the top of my lungs in the open air, I worry slightly about offending people, but it’s nothing anyone hasn’t heard before).

I was grinned at by an older woman today during an “All of My Love” heartwrencher. I’m not sure it was mean-spirited or anything, but I smiled right back and kept on yelling about who I’d give the fullness of my heart unto.

The next song to blare and belt to was “Since U Been Gone,” a modern classic. Genres aside, that song is truly a masterpiece, and I defy anyone not to get excited and sing along with that chorus. Whether it’s Kelly rocking me or I’m “under da sea,” I’m going to sing my heart out if the mood strikes me. I don’t care who sees me or hears me sing. At least when I’m in my car, that is.

It feels good. Seems like I can breathe for the first time. Guess I’m just moving on.