The other day I found myself standing in line and the ATM and "Colonel Peron...Eva Duarte..." (in high and low voices, naturally) accidentally fell out of my mouth.
Because about a week ago I felt the burning need to purchase the Evita soundtrack, and then listen to it 372 times. Per day.
You could say that when I get interested in something, I tend to get
very interested. I pick a topic and I focus on it. Until I move onto the next ones. For example, the rabies. Or sinkholes.
that I've long been interested in parasites, and poop, and my imaginary
penis. None of these are the topic of the day/week/month. And it's not that I'm not scared of rabies or sinkholes. But I don't talk about them all the time until holy crap did you see that 25-acre one in Louisiana?
Oh! And! Before I forget! my friend Amanda sent me this absolute gem, saying that she wasn't sure what it meant that she saw it and immediately thought of me.
Naturally, I was flattered.
So Evita. I grew up hearing to it over and over, and knew all the lines. It turns out that I still know quite a few of them. So every day lately, I've been walking around with Evita running from start to finish through my head.
"So what happens now? Another suitcase in another hall..."
Mostly it is in my head.
And it's not at all awkward in public when it doesn't stay there. Not at all.