life lessons hit you when you least expect them to ... very much like wood splinters or amazingly huge, cystic pimples or random tv interviews in the park (more on that if and when i remember to blog about it).
one day last week i woke up early enough to have a proper breakfast. so i treated myself to this little, unknown, hole-in-the-wall restaurant called ... mcdonalds (remember: the setting is HONG KONG. i didn't want to have communication gap for breakfast. sue me).
while lingering over my coffee, i heard something over the radio that made me realize the universal language is not love ... or money (but the jury is still out on that one) ... or laughter.
it's DANCING QUEEN.
yes, the ABBA song. the song that can irritate the most patient saint, the song that any person – regardless of age or geographic region or mental health status – CAN HUM.
do it. you know you want to.
i'm tempted to dive into a discussion as to why everyone knows about the young, sweet, 17-year-old tambourine-wielding dancer on the scene. but i won't because i'm too busy trying to get the damn song out of my head.
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