All I want for Christmas... is to NEVER SING KARAOKE again.
On Mondays, every once in awhile, I go to karaoke... in the past, I never sang on stage, I heartily sang along with people on stage, I clapped for excellent preformances by my friends and I hang out... in general a good time. However, yesterday I actually sang. It was midst my "singing" I had a REVELATION.
I have absolutely NO DESIRE to ever be on stage... not acting, not singing, not dancing, not poetry reading, nothing.
Which is odd. Consider: I am no one's idea of a low-maintenance girl... I, in general, love attention, I love people and talking and being silly with my roommate...for the love, I work in communications, I have given speeches to groups, held press conferences, and given interviews for situations I would rather not be interviewed for....
And yet...put me on a (karaoke) stage and I start freaking out... and by freaking out I mean getting deathly silent and looking out in horror. It is like reverso world (no, I have no idea if reverso world exists, but for arguements sake we will call it Noom) where you put the shy people on at karoke and 2 choruses in, all of a sudden they are writhing, emotive messes, singing some ode to Mariah Carey... high kicks, ass shaking, ear holding, wailers. Meanwhile, I stand there playing with my fingers behind my back and hope to god, the song is almost over. I don't think most of my friends get how absolutely horrifing it was for me to be on any sort of stage that involves singing.... it may be my inner stoic Englishness from my grandparents or the fact that I try not to run around doing things I know I am gonna be horrible at... but yeah... karaoke = bad.
Other thoughts: I would like to take this moment to say, I have a much greater appreciation for those that can karaoke... call me, I love your work. I would also like to say... "no, Morgan, I will not karaoke again just so you can see it"
And give a shout out to those who drink Guinness, which I discovered last night is Irish for "mud we place in a can with a tab and sell to unsuspecting stupid faces" or gaelic for "sludge," latin for "Optimus Disgustus." You guys have tougher stomach's than I, drink on, friends, drink on.
Finally, to Nate... who forever changed NIN "Closer" with your holiday rendition... I am pretty sure you found the true heart or Reznor's song... I am also pretty sure somewhere Santa is crying.
I have absolutely NO DESIRE to ever be on stage... not acting, not singing, not dancing, not poetry reading, nothing.
Which is odd. Consider: I am no one's idea of a low-maintenance girl... I, in general, love attention, I love people and talking and being silly with my roommate...for the love, I work in communications, I have given speeches to groups, held press conferences, and given interviews for situations I would rather not be interviewed for....
And yet...put me on a (karaoke) stage and I start freaking out... and by freaking out I mean getting deathly silent and looking out in horror. It is like reverso world (no, I have no idea if reverso world exists, but for arguements sake we will call it Noom) where you put the shy people on at karoke and 2 choruses in, all of a sudden they are writhing, emotive messes, singing some ode to Mariah Carey... high kicks, ass shaking, ear holding, wailers. Meanwhile, I stand there playing with my fingers behind my back and hope to god, the song is almost over. I don't think most of my friends get how absolutely horrifing it was for me to be on any sort of stage that involves singing.... it may be my inner stoic Englishness from my grandparents or the fact that I try not to run around doing things I know I am gonna be horrible at... but yeah... karaoke = bad.
Other thoughts: I would like to take this moment to say, I have a much greater appreciation for those that can karaoke... call me, I love your work. I would also like to say... "no, Morgan, I will not karaoke again just so you can see it"
And give a shout out to those who drink Guinness, which I discovered last night is Irish for "mud we place in a can with a tab and sell to unsuspecting stupid faces" or gaelic for "sludge," latin for "Optimus Disgustus." You guys have tougher stomach's than I, drink on, friends, drink on.
Finally, to Nate... who forever changed NIN "Closer" with your holiday rendition... I am pretty sure you found the true heart or Reznor's song... I am also pretty sure somewhere Santa is crying.
posted by Shanelle at 9:11 AM
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