I like myself, I am a good person, I like myself, I am a nice human being. Affirmations.
Last night I got on the housewife/mother party train and bought a ticket to fun with my gal pals. We reached our destination and when karaoke seemed inevitable I signed up for a song, thinking the voice would come when summoned. Not so true. Granted, karaoke does not necessitate perfection but my gals wanted to hear me do a song and I obliged. I'm not sure what they heard.
Heatwave has lots of high notes, energy and words to cram into a small space and just because I rocked that song for many years, doesn't mean I still can. Should I have chosen more wisely? I don't know. Taking oneself too seriously is a trap I climbed out of long ago. It was just a night out with friends and I didn't want to get all Barbra Streisand at a biker's karaoke bar. So I sang my song as best I could and sat down with a big smile on my face, like a cook who knows they burned the bechamel sauce but doesn't admit it.
We danced, we laughed, we sang, we got away from our messy houses and the incessant rain of this Seattle spring for a few hours and were once again just girls. Sure my voice is rusty having been parked for years in a storage closet but I can't sing like I used to and that's ...okay.