Is this post’s title a reference to TLC’s illustrious sophomore album CrazySexyCool? You can bet Chilli’s sideburns it is! I’m a slave to the red light. I get a fevah waiting for it to go off. It’s anxiousness, impatience, and addiction rolled into one and the second I see that fiery blink… Awwwww man, it’s ecstasy.
Why do message notifications on my phone elicit such strong feelings? I really can’t answer that but it puts me in a state of euphoria every single time. I think the better question is: Who am I waiting to hear from? Answer: NO-F*CKING-BODY! I remain optimistic that eventually the blinking red light will mean a text-messaged sweet nothin’ from my heart’s desire instead of a Groupon for a 2.5 hour jam session with fellow downtown musicians. *single blink*
Mad props to my boo, my baby, my BlackBerry. And to the single fellas – call me, beep me…if you want to reach me.
Please press play: