Okay, so I spent the weekend over at my sister's. She picked me up on Friday and we went & purchased me a very nice interview outfit. It was the first outfit she picked out but I had to try on the other 3 she chose, two which were 3 piece suits. I demonstrate the suit for her & her question is "What do you think?" My words "Football player. In drag." My shoulders were HUGE! Scary. The 3rd outfit was a dress that looked okay but was one of those layered dresses that looks like a two piece but is actually attached together. I had to ask Kari to help me get out of the dress. Obviously Keem is not going to assist me in getting undressed (this is something only a sister will do) so we said no.
The last outfit was an ankle-length skirt, loose and flowy (which I love) and a print blouse that was low cut enough that I didn't feel like I was choking to death and was actually flattering. I did not think "Oh my God, you huge cow" when I looked in the mirror. This is an important requirement for clothing.
We then journeyed to her house where I got to meet Keith, a friend of Eric's that has been staying with them because he needed to go to the VA for tests a month ago. Eric has been putting off driving Keith back to Iowa and so Keith has been staying in the breezeway (my future home if I ever end up having to live with my sister again) and fixing things around the house.
Keith and I started watching "Blood Diamond" a movie I would never think to watch on my own because it has a) Leonardo DiCaprio in it and b) is bloody and awful and people die and I hate that. I didn't finish the movie, choosing instead to play Mah Jong Quest on the computer but Eric told me how it ended, doing the accents for Leonardo and the other main guy while he did (he's not bad, actually, I never would have thought my brother-in-law could do a South African accent but this is apparently one of his talents). Beth, you would like this movie for the reason you did not like the Count of...sorry, the Man in the Iron Mask.
It was a weird weekend, all I'm going to say about it is that I did end up consoling Kari while she cried over a bad fight and I'm worried about the relationship. I also ended up missing karaoke so I could be with Kari during a difficult time. I am hoping that everything rights itself - I love that family together and when they are at their best, they are what I hope for in a marriage. When they're not, though, I am glad I am still single. Enough about that.
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Oh, I got my hair cut as well. As I was standing in my bathroom this morning, brushing my hair, I had the following conversation with Keem.
DM: Oh my God, I am freakin' adorable.
Keem: Whatever.
Yes, I am quite modest.
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Beth and I went to karaoke on Thursday. It was an interesting night, as evidenced in my last post. Apparently the lack of Effexor was having an adverse effect on my last nerve, which had been frayed years before. I am not known for my patience but I can usually keep from wanting to kill everyone I encounter. Usually. But this is not one of those nights. It is probably a good idea that I don't like guns and feel the need to carry one around.
First of all, Beth finds a table for us while I get our beverages (Coke no ice for Beth, water lots of ice for me). I join her. We start catching up. Various people come over to chat with us. This is okay. One of them is Stubes, one is Sexy Craig. Suddenly a hoarde of people descends upon our table. They start sitting at our table. Do we know any of them? Not really.
DM: Have you ever wanted to just pretend you are crazy and start trying to get the crazy bugs off of you in order to get people to leave your table?
B (looks around): Tonight.
Later.
DM: Oh, Beth, the crazy bugs are crawling all over me. Get them off. Get them off.
B: That is the worst crazy act I have ever seen.
DM: Yeah. I'm better at faking asthma attacks.
Beth does start talking to an invisible person in the chair next to her. It doesn't phase any of our univited guests.
And then the singing starts. Or, I should say, the really bad singing starts. I do not have a fork. I start clutching my hands together, digging the fingernails into my skin. After the 3rd or 4th horrible song of the evening, Beth did tell me to stop. I'm not sure if it was the fingernails or the weird faces of anger I'm sure I was making that worried her. I do have to remember to take my Effexor. It's a nice buffer between me and those other people who dare to inhabit my world. Unlike Beth and Keem and everyone else I like who are welcome (if you're reading this, you're welcome).
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It takes a special sort of person to sing "Summer Nights." Unfortunately neither of the people on stage come close to that specialness. Believe me when I say that Beth stared up at the stage and says "I'm going to kill you" that she is completely justified.
Here's an example. At the end of the song, the guy singing ends his song like this. "Oh. Those. Summer. Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhtttttttttttss." He has just sung this like William Shatner meets Wing. Please, please shoot him. Or me. I really don't care.
Have you heard of Wing? She is apparently an Internet singing sensation. On Saturday night, Beth was searching Rhapsody for really bad covers of songs. We found several but none of them prepared us for Wing. She is from Hong Kong & emigrated to New Zealand. She "sings" (and I am using that term loosely) Elvis, ACDC & Abba, songs you love. Until you hear your version. Go here. Listen. There are samples!
Here's an example. "Lushee in the scky wi dimonds (repeated)." Then there was the random high pitched "Ahhhhh" that was a note I've never heard before. The best part was Beth's reaction. Not so much the hysterical laughter but the suspense. Will she fall out of her chair? Will she knock over the computer? Will she make me start snorting with laughter? No, no, yes.
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Some guy has actually started singing "Funky Comedina (or Cold Medina or whatever the heck it is. I don't care enough to Google it)". He is also wearing a beret. The only man who should sing this song is Ton Loc. He is not here.
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Our table has been invaded by young people in their early 20's. Somehow they just thought "Hey! Let's just sit at this random table. That'll be cool. And then we'll giggle & squeal & make out with random guys & get very annoying. Yay!"
Let me put it this way. I'm not sure if what is rising in my throat is acid reflux or pure rage. I guess we'll know for sure when I climb the nearest clock tower with either antacid or an AK-47.
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At the end of the evening, this woman came up and asked if she could use my lighter. It was very loud so I didn't really catch a lot of what she said. I later asked Beth for a translation.
DM (written): I know my hearing is bad but I only understood one out of every 8 words she said.
B (written): She first asked for your lighter. Then she asked why you don't sing because you have a good voice (You good singer) and asked why you don't sing on Thursday. Then she said she sucks it up but you're a good singer.
What's your name (she couldn't get my name. No one can, especially when they are drunk)?
She's the one who sang "Summer Niiiiiiiights."
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I tell you, sometimes I wonder why I go to karaoke. Then I remember. It's not for the horrible singing or the incredibly drunken people. It's for the catching up with my friends that happens after karaoke. And the blogging material, of course.