Kareoke

Today is a good day.
Yesterday I was exhausted. Husband ended up calling into work to take a personal day; he just didn’t want to go, and asked if I wanted to go to a movie. We went to dinner and a movie (Gran Torino was awesome!). We got along well, and I am finding myself more and more fascinated with him. I got into this rut pretty quickly, where I didn’t look at him in that way anymore. I thought I knew him so well; I’m watching him with new eyes. It’s nice. Anyway, the night went pretty good. No miracle; but we had laughs and smiles.

This morning I got up at the crack of dawn (well, actually, about an hour before that) and came in to the office. I have about 3.5 hours of my 6 hour workday left. Then, I have a date with my pillow for a bit. Tonight I have a birthday celebration for a friend from work; karaoke bar, here we come! Husband is coming. He’s never spent time with me and my work friends. I’m hoping he’ll see another side of me; the fun, funny side of me that I haven’t shown as much recently as I should have.

Will Amy sing? No. Please excuse me while I step up onto my soap box.

Here is a conversation I’ve had probably a dozen times in my life:

Friend: Oh, come on Amy, you’ll have fun.
Amy: No I won’t.
Friend: Once you get up there, you’ll loosen up and go with it.
Amy: No I won’t.
Friend: Come on, there’s got to be SOMETHING! I’m gonna pressure you until you get up there and sing; you know that, right?
Amy: *sighs* Seriously, I don’t want to.
Friend: Trust me. Just try.
Amy: I have. No fun.
Friend: Pick one. NOW.
Amy: (flips grumpily through karaoke book and settles on something terrible that she actually knows, like Olivia Newton John). Fine. But it’s not gonna be fun.

Conversation breaks as Amy gets up on stage and grabs the microphone. Gets instructed not to use THAT microphone. Use the next one over. Her heart is thudding. Mouth is dry. Friends are cheering and Amy is about to throw up. The music starts. It sounds different from the original. Amy panics. Starts in too early. Stands still as a statue, sings pretty well, but awkwardly. Halfway through the song, that high note she forgot about comes up. She tries. It flops. Song ends. Amy puts the mic down and goes back to her seat.

Friend: (looking uncomfortable) Was it as bad as you thought it would be?
Amy: Yes. I’m never doing karaoke again.

Cycle continues.