Last night's karaoke performance included a little freelance clogging.
That is all.
Showing posts with label karaoke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label karaoke. Show all posts
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Friday Night Frolicking
I sang karaoke, multiple times, Friday night.
Okay, I'll admit it. I love to sing karaoke, almost as much as I love to go out dancing, neither of which I get to do very often. Those of you who read this blog back in the dark ages, when dinosaurs still roamed the earth, may remember that my lack of opportunities to sing and dance like a crazy person has been a running theme in my life. I love to think about life and meditate upon its possibilities, and am a first class navel-gazer. I am also terribly silly with a performance streak and love to dance!
So, now that I'm around a group of young party people on a regular basis, I have plenty of opportunities to live it up, if I so choose. And I don't choose to all that often. But every now and then, it's nice to blow off some steam.
Friday night, Hubs and I went to the bar to hang with some people there and have a few drinks. And afterwards, he went home to avoid the spectacle, and I went with a few friends to karaoke night at the local pub. I started with a little Gretchen Wilson (everything sounds country when I sing it, so might as well work with it). My loud, yeehaw voice, paired with some phenomenal hip action (if I do say so myself), drew a little attention, some of it from a crowd of fun and rowdy lesbians across the bar. Then, I sang some Meredith Brooks as a duet with a friend, sharing a microphone and again making a scene. Then, a duet with a friend's boyfriend. And later, we put in a request for me and my three girl friends to sing Lady Marmalade, and we waited.
While we waited, two guys came up and sang "Hey Ya" by Outkast, which of course necessitated the kind of crazy dancing from me that made my friends all think I was drunk (which I wasn't, as I had quit drinking around an hour earlier). But it's Outkast, people. It's one of the laws of the universe that you MUST shake it like a polaroid picture when that song comes on, especially when all the other cool people in the bar are.
At some point, feeling all happy and full of joy, I went around and started inviting women I had seen having fun earlier in the night to come sing with us when we get called. I invited a few of the Outkast duo's backup dancers. I invited a woman who had been sitting with her boyfriend, quietly but happily lip-syncing along all night long. And I went over to the studded-belt ringleader of the lesbian crew and invited her. She put her arm around me and said, "You want me to sing with you, baby?" Yeah. That would be fun, actually!
Anyway, we never get called, and eventually all my karaoke friends (except for one guy I know, who seemed thoroughly disinterested in karaoke) went home. As luck would have it, within 10 minutes of everyone leaving me there, the karaoke dude gleefully calls me *and all my friends, who are no longer there* up to sing Lady Marmalade (the Moulin Rouge version). I giggle uncomfortably, being thoroughly sober at this point, and shuffle all alone up to the karaoke stage, a little bit nervous about the spectacle I was about to have to make all by myself. Before the music starts, I mutter into the microphone something along the lines of, "all my drunk friends left already." As if drawn by the inexplicable force of sisterhood in self-humiliation, the entire crew of rowdy lesbians (who had been making spectacles of their own all night singing Dixie Chicks and some old school rap) come out of the woodwork-- weaving through the crowd, jumping the railing, and crawling through the bar to make their way to the stage with me.
Before the first beat of the song began, I was surrounded by what has to be the most awesome, funny, live-it-up crew of tipsy, fun women that this progressive college town has to offer. We made a spectacle, alright, and it was SO. MUCH. FUN!
A little later, after the bar had thinned out a bit, a few other friends (who had just gotten off work) came and joined us, and I got to shoot a little pool with a couple of guys from work (something else I haven't done in YEARS).
.....
I sang karaoke and blogged about it back in January of 2006. Once, maybe almost two years ago, we lived in an old farmhouse across the highway from a biker bar, and I went to the biker bar to sing karaoke with the hellraisers. I need to get out more often. Friday night was fun, and although Hubster, being the strong and silent type, isn't much for karaoke and doesn't necessarily want to have to go party with me, he is enjoying second-hand all the benefits of having a life partner who (for the first time in many years) feels alive, youthful, playful, and fun, and it's all rubbing off on him as well. I don't think I want to be a crazy party person all the time, but if getting out every now and then keeps me feeling young and alive and silly, I might have to up my biennial karaoke night to make it something a little more standard.
My family, my marriage, my continually growing relationship with God-- those are my priorities. But I'm starting to think there's a way to keep those as priorities while still giving myself regular outlets for silliness and spunk, which nurture my heart and feed my spirit as well, albeit in much different ways from spending time with my family or in meditation. There is room in my Reality for a much wider diversity of celebration and joy, both of which I seem to need more of in my life. Don't we all?
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Survey says...
Success! Down time achieved, stress somewhat relieved.
The girls got their night out.
The boys got to chaperone.
I'll get back to regular posting later this week. :-)
I'll get back to regular posting later this week. :-)
Saturday, January 14, 2006
age, or maybe growth, revisited...
From ages 18-20, I was a party girl. Not in the sense of going to bars to pick up guys or be picked up (I've never left a bar with someone I didn't go in with), or having one night stands (something else I've never done). But I really enjoyed getting lost in the intensity of it all-- the lights, the loudness, the fog... By daylight, I was rather mild mannered, nerdy, and insecure. In the right lighting, I could pretend I was someone else.
I think there's just a little tiny bit of that party girl left in me, in the sense that I'm a bit of a free spirit-- fun loving and silly-- but it's different. I'm more of a party girl in the abstract rather than in the tangible reality of my life. As much fun as I have blogging about what a wild woman I'm going to be, given the chance, it just isn't really me anymore.
In true fashion, I talk a big game, but am really a homebody. This morning, I snuggled in bed next to my husband and watched the sun rise over the ocean. My day since then was spent sipping chamomile tea while reading my Bible on the balcony of our room, and walking the beach and nearby pier with my family. I have a feeling that the rest of the day will be about the same, perhaps with a hot tub soak or pool swim thrown in. Last night hubs and I did go to karaoke, which was a blast, and I've talked my sister and her man into coming here for karaoke tonight instead of hitting the hot clubs. I guess, in spite of my grandest fantasies, that I'm a pretty simple girl, easy to please, who just wants to be with her family. Maybe, just maybe, there isn't as much in my life anymore that I want to escape, and my life is satisfying enough without having to be obscured by disco balls, fog machines, and thumping bass.
Hubs and I talked this morning about the whole protection thing... I think we figured out a few contributing factors to why we felt the way we each did-- things relating to past experiences. You know-- the baggage we tend to drag into relationships and carry with us over time. So, it's resolved. If we can both afford to go, we will. If not, I'll go. Simple. No hurt feelings, no sulking, no nightlife. I probably wouldn't really want to go out anyway, given my tendency toward talking bigger than I'd ever really try to be in real life. But I am a big girl, and could make a trip on my own if that's the way it works out, and he knows I'd spend the whole time babbling to anyone who would listen about him and the kids. They are my heart.
The whole guy behavior thing is an interesting discussion, though. I think that some guys think women are stupid when it comes to knowing what some guys are like, what they think, and how they behave. I think women get it much of the time; we just don't necessarily react the way that guys think women will react. I've said it before and I'll say it now-- the manly man national geographic strut and preen mating dance that some guys do really cracks me up! It does not turn me on or weaken my knees. It's just anthropology in action-- a fascinating display of usually misplaced effort.
Last night, I went down to karaoke, and hubs was going to join me later. I walked in, ordered a beer, and immediately picked up the karaoke song list. I'm here to sing, remember? A small crowd of sixty year old guys (late sixties would be a generous guess on my part), one of whom was extremely friendly and had an earring, were flirting with me. Old guys-- well, that's just kind of cute. I flirted back, because they were so funny, and went back to reviewing my song list. Within a few minutes, 1/2 my beer was gone, and I had found my song. I couldn't find a pen to write my song on the slip, though, and was leaning in toward the bartender to try to get his attention. After a minute, he came and sat another beer in front of me. "No-- I just needed a pen," I said. "Oh-- the drink is compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar." I looked, and there was a forty-something guy with a tropical print shirt smiling at me. "Thanks," I mouthed, thinking about how I'll never see California after this. Less than 5 minutes in the bar, and old guys were hitting on me while some dopey guy at the end of the bar was buying me a drink.
But see, here's the thing. I'm guessing (because I'm not a man) that tropical man thinks, "Hey, I bought this chick a beer. She smiled at me. That must be because she wants me. Maybe I'll get lucky." And as far as I'm concerned, I don't really care if that was what he was thinking. I was thinking, "Kind of dweeby, but seems harmless. Free beer-- not bad. If that guy is married, he's a jerk. Maybe he's not, though, but what do I care. When's hubs coming to the bar? I can't wait for him to get here. I'll drink my two beers and sing love songs to him all night."
A few minutes later, hubs arrived to find me with a beer in each hand (not a normal thing for me, just for the record-- I drink a couple of beers per month when I'm on a roll). I smiled at him, kissed him, and then gestured down the bar-- "The second beer is compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar." Hubs looked, and tropical guy smiled at him. Tropical guy then walked over, play slugged my husband in the arm, and said, "Hey, man, I was just getting her another beer so she'd sing-- haha!" Hubs smiled, because truthfully he's not a very jealous kind of person, recent hooha aside, and slugged tropical guy back. "Yeah, she's a keeper," he said, and laughed. I then spent the rest of the night singing country music to my man (with my voice, everything is country when I sing it), and dancing with a group of forty-something women who were there. We really had a blast, and before long my husband was even chatting with the old dudes, even the one with the earring. They really were friendly guys, and had neat stories to tell (old guys usually do).
So, here's the thing. I think some guys are pigs. Back in my party girl days, I had plenty of married guys offer to meet me for flings, and brazen single guys who expected me to be something I wasn't. I've seen men at their worst, trust me, so much so that I went for years thinking all men were horrible. But truthfully, most of the guys I know now are pretty good guys. I think guys put on this silly show because they think it impresses other people, and who knows?-- maybe sometimes it does. But most men I know now, deep inside, just want someone to talk to, to listen to them, to believe in them, and to cheer for them. They just usually don't expect that other person to be a guy, because it might violate the man code, which really is a silly thing to begin with. And guys, most women are smarter than you think. Even when they go along with your manly man act, it is usually with the awareness that you are in fact doing the manly man act, and that they are doing the easy female act. Don't flatter yourselves too much!
This vacation is a nice thing. Time to chill out, time to reflect, is rare in the daily grind. It's nice to get away from it all for a while. I feel good.
I think there's just a little tiny bit of that party girl left in me, in the sense that I'm a bit of a free spirit-- fun loving and silly-- but it's different. I'm more of a party girl in the abstract rather than in the tangible reality of my life. As much fun as I have blogging about what a wild woman I'm going to be, given the chance, it just isn't really me anymore.
In true fashion, I talk a big game, but am really a homebody. This morning, I snuggled in bed next to my husband and watched the sun rise over the ocean. My day since then was spent sipping chamomile tea while reading my Bible on the balcony of our room, and walking the beach and nearby pier with my family. I have a feeling that the rest of the day will be about the same, perhaps with a hot tub soak or pool swim thrown in. Last night hubs and I did go to karaoke, which was a blast, and I've talked my sister and her man into coming here for karaoke tonight instead of hitting the hot clubs. I guess, in spite of my grandest fantasies, that I'm a pretty simple girl, easy to please, who just wants to be with her family. Maybe, just maybe, there isn't as much in my life anymore that I want to escape, and my life is satisfying enough without having to be obscured by disco balls, fog machines, and thumping bass.
Hubs and I talked this morning about the whole protection thing... I think we figured out a few contributing factors to why we felt the way we each did-- things relating to past experiences. You know-- the baggage we tend to drag into relationships and carry with us over time. So, it's resolved. If we can both afford to go, we will. If not, I'll go. Simple. No hurt feelings, no sulking, no nightlife. I probably wouldn't really want to go out anyway, given my tendency toward talking bigger than I'd ever really try to be in real life. But I am a big girl, and could make a trip on my own if that's the way it works out, and he knows I'd spend the whole time babbling to anyone who would listen about him and the kids. They are my heart.
The whole guy behavior thing is an interesting discussion, though. I think that some guys think women are stupid when it comes to knowing what some guys are like, what they think, and how they behave. I think women get it much of the time; we just don't necessarily react the way that guys think women will react. I've said it before and I'll say it now-- the manly man national geographic strut and preen mating dance that some guys do really cracks me up! It does not turn me on or weaken my knees. It's just anthropology in action-- a fascinating display of usually misplaced effort.
Last night, I went down to karaoke, and hubs was going to join me later. I walked in, ordered a beer, and immediately picked up the karaoke song list. I'm here to sing, remember? A small crowd of sixty year old guys (late sixties would be a generous guess on my part), one of whom was extremely friendly and had an earring, were flirting with me. Old guys-- well, that's just kind of cute. I flirted back, because they were so funny, and went back to reviewing my song list. Within a few minutes, 1/2 my beer was gone, and I had found my song. I couldn't find a pen to write my song on the slip, though, and was leaning in toward the bartender to try to get his attention. After a minute, he came and sat another beer in front of me. "No-- I just needed a pen," I said. "Oh-- the drink is compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar." I looked, and there was a forty-something guy with a tropical print shirt smiling at me. "Thanks," I mouthed, thinking about how I'll never see California after this. Less than 5 minutes in the bar, and old guys were hitting on me while some dopey guy at the end of the bar was buying me a drink.
But see, here's the thing. I'm guessing (because I'm not a man) that tropical man thinks, "Hey, I bought this chick a beer. She smiled at me. That must be because she wants me. Maybe I'll get lucky." And as far as I'm concerned, I don't really care if that was what he was thinking. I was thinking, "Kind of dweeby, but seems harmless. Free beer-- not bad. If that guy is married, he's a jerk. Maybe he's not, though, but what do I care. When's hubs coming to the bar? I can't wait for him to get here. I'll drink my two beers and sing love songs to him all night."
A few minutes later, hubs arrived to find me with a beer in each hand (not a normal thing for me, just for the record-- I drink a couple of beers per month when I'm on a roll). I smiled at him, kissed him, and then gestured down the bar-- "The second beer is compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar." Hubs looked, and tropical guy smiled at him. Tropical guy then walked over, play slugged my husband in the arm, and said, "Hey, man, I was just getting her another beer so she'd sing-- haha!" Hubs smiled, because truthfully he's not a very jealous kind of person, recent hooha aside, and slugged tropical guy back. "Yeah, she's a keeper," he said, and laughed. I then spent the rest of the night singing country music to my man (with my voice, everything is country when I sing it), and dancing with a group of forty-something women who were there. We really had a blast, and before long my husband was even chatting with the old dudes, even the one with the earring. They really were friendly guys, and had neat stories to tell (old guys usually do).
So, here's the thing. I think some guys are pigs. Back in my party girl days, I had plenty of married guys offer to meet me for flings, and brazen single guys who expected me to be something I wasn't. I've seen men at their worst, trust me, so much so that I went for years thinking all men were horrible. But truthfully, most of the guys I know now are pretty good guys. I think guys put on this silly show because they think it impresses other people, and who knows?-- maybe sometimes it does. But most men I know now, deep inside, just want someone to talk to, to listen to them, to believe in them, and to cheer for them. They just usually don't expect that other person to be a guy, because it might violate the man code, which really is a silly thing to begin with. And guys, most women are smarter than you think. Even when they go along with your manly man act, it is usually with the awareness that you are in fact doing the manly man act, and that they are doing the easy female act. Don't flatter yourselves too much!
This vacation is a nice thing. Time to chill out, time to reflect, is rare in the daily grind. It's nice to get away from it all for a while. I feel good.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Holy moly beach madness
So, I guess that most of you guys were too chicken to comment in public. My hubs and I had a little bet going as to what kinds of comments my last post would get, and whether or not they would be divided along the gender line. So, you peeps are costing me a full body massage, I'll have you know. Go back and comment, darnit!
We drove to the beach today (5 hours), through thunderstorms and tornado warnings, but it is BEAUTIFUL now. This is the place we stay every time I come to the beach (I worked here in high school-- Chubby Checker, remember?). Usually, I'm rushing in during the busy season, for a high school reunion or quickie visit, and we get stuffed into whatever little room they have available. And when the Christy family stays in other hotels, it's usually on a long road trip, when we're just too tired to drive anymore, and it's a crappy four-hour-sleep kind of hotel. So, since I've been out of the business world where I traveled, we haven't done nice hotels very much, or at least not nice rooms in the nice hotels.
And it's free, right? And I'm the kind of person who is simply grateful for whatever I get, so I wasn't expecting much... Just a couple of beds, a TV, and a bathroom. We walked into our 12th floor room today, and my 9 year old grumbled, "Oh, great. No beds." That was when we realized we were standing in the living room. We're in a super-fly suite that has a living room, dining room, and kitchenette, and hubs and I have our own room separate from the kids. Yeah, baby! ;-) And we have TWO-- count them-- 1, 2-- balconies overlooking the ocean. Holy snot, folks-- I'm overwhelmed. I think maybe my old friend heard my desperation yesterday morning when I called to ask for a room-- "I need a break, really bad. We just need to get away..." He certainly delivered, and it will take everything I have not to throw myself at his feet when we get to see him tomorrow.
So, I'm sitting here at the hotel business center, just because I wanted to tell my blogpals that I am the happiest and most relaxed I've been in a long time, and that it will only be getting better over the course of the weekend. Fifteen feet away from me is the hotel lounge, where some drunk weirdo is singing "Strokin'" by Clarence Carter-- heck yea, KARAOKE, baby! I'm in weirdo heaven! After I go back upstairs and get the munchkins to sleep, I might be down here singing "Strokin'" before the night is over. Or "Like a Virgin." Or "Lady Marmalade." Or any number of my karaoke standards (yes, I am that big of a nerd). And tomorrow during the day-- little sis is taking me shopping to buy some sexy club clothes for our dance outing tomorrow night (she's taking me to the hottest new clubs here). DO YOU PEOPLE REALIZE HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE I BOUGHT A SEXY GARMENT OF ANY KIND?!?!?! HMMMMMMMMM?????????? And then hubs and I are going to spend the day playing on the beach (the weather is gorgeous), playing laser tag with the kids, and generally having a better time together than we've had in a long time. And then tomorrow night-- GIRLS' NIGHT OUT. My little sister's man might come over to knock back a few with hubs, while the girls are out cavorting all over Myrtle Beach. I'm giddy like a schoolgirl, if you can't tell. I need to get out more often, yeah, I know. But three kids... Priorities shift.
I may not be able to do this very often, but you better believe I'm going to get enough of it out of my system to get me through to the next time, just in case it's another 2 years. ;-)
Later, gators. Clarence Carter is calling out my name... He says Christy... Christy... Christy... LOL
We drove to the beach today (5 hours), through thunderstorms and tornado warnings, but it is BEAUTIFUL now. This is the place we stay every time I come to the beach (I worked here in high school-- Chubby Checker, remember?). Usually, I'm rushing in during the busy season, for a high school reunion or quickie visit, and we get stuffed into whatever little room they have available. And when the Christy family stays in other hotels, it's usually on a long road trip, when we're just too tired to drive anymore, and it's a crappy four-hour-sleep kind of hotel. So, since I've been out of the business world where I traveled, we haven't done nice hotels very much, or at least not nice rooms in the nice hotels.
And it's free, right? And I'm the kind of person who is simply grateful for whatever I get, so I wasn't expecting much... Just a couple of beds, a TV, and a bathroom. We walked into our 12th floor room today, and my 9 year old grumbled, "Oh, great. No beds." That was when we realized we were standing in the living room. We're in a super-fly suite that has a living room, dining room, and kitchenette, and hubs and I have our own room separate from the kids. Yeah, baby! ;-) And we have TWO-- count them-- 1, 2-- balconies overlooking the ocean. Holy snot, folks-- I'm overwhelmed. I think maybe my old friend heard my desperation yesterday morning when I called to ask for a room-- "I need a break, really bad. We just need to get away..." He certainly delivered, and it will take everything I have not to throw myself at his feet when we get to see him tomorrow.
So, I'm sitting here at the hotel business center, just because I wanted to tell my blogpals that I am the happiest and most relaxed I've been in a long time, and that it will only be getting better over the course of the weekend. Fifteen feet away from me is the hotel lounge, where some drunk weirdo is singing "Strokin'" by Clarence Carter-- heck yea, KARAOKE, baby! I'm in weirdo heaven! After I go back upstairs and get the munchkins to sleep, I might be down here singing "Strokin'" before the night is over. Or "Like a Virgin." Or "Lady Marmalade." Or any number of my karaoke standards (yes, I am that big of a nerd). And tomorrow during the day-- little sis is taking me shopping to buy some sexy club clothes for our dance outing tomorrow night (she's taking me to the hottest new clubs here). DO YOU PEOPLE REALIZE HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE I BOUGHT A SEXY GARMENT OF ANY KIND?!?!?! HMMMMMMMMM?????????? And then hubs and I are going to spend the day playing on the beach (the weather is gorgeous), playing laser tag with the kids, and generally having a better time together than we've had in a long time. And then tomorrow night-- GIRLS' NIGHT OUT. My little sister's man might come over to knock back a few with hubs, while the girls are out cavorting all over Myrtle Beach. I'm giddy like a schoolgirl, if you can't tell. I need to get out more often, yeah, I know. But three kids... Priorities shift.
I may not be able to do this very often, but you better believe I'm going to get enough of it out of my system to get me through to the next time, just in case it's another 2 years. ;-)
Later, gators. Clarence Carter is calling out my name... He says Christy... Christy... Christy... LOL
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