I have a pretty bad case of this thing, which i don’t even really know is an official thing. I”ll call it: “the song that gets stuck in my brain” thing. i can be in a conversation, or working, or watching tv, and my brain is singing, “She’s just a girl and she’s on fire.” The words repeat over and over inside my head on an endless loop. When it’s a song I like, it’s bad enough, but when it’s a song I hate, it’s even worse. Sometimes I wonder if it’s a special CIA torture device to get me to unveil some important national security information–like how much money I spent at Anthropologie, or something. Anyway, good thing I’m not singing out loud and just in my head because well, just ask anybody who’s ever heard me sing. They’ll tell you. If not in words, then in facial expressions. FRIENDS AND FAMILY WHO ALLEGEDLY LOVE ME, mind you. Like mom, like child. My daughter sadly has inherited my pathetic and sad vocal capabilities, but she’s the first to make fun of me (although this has been a bonding moment for the two of us also). I was in chorus until third grade, when my chorus teacher, Mrs. Gustafson told me that she absolutely loved me, but that I couldn’t be in chorus anymore because I couldn’t sing. REALLY, MRS. GUSTAFSON, IS THAT HOW WE’RE GOING TO HANDLE THIS? I was sort of devastated, and asked my mom if I might develop a better voice as i got older. i think she told me yes, which is the right thing to have done, since I was still living in a 10 year old world of “anything is possible.”. The thing is, I have all the intonations right. I know the timing. I can even dance in the perfect rhythmic groove to every moment of a song, BUT I CANNOT HOLD A TUNE, HIT A NOTE, OR EVEN HEAR THAT I’M NOT DOING EITHER OF THOSE THINGS. It’s so sad, because I know I would have been a great singer, you know, except for my damn voice. What I really mean, is that I have the SOUL of a singer. I can feel a song in my gut. Some people can sing, but they don’t’ really feel the music, which is actually as bad as singing like I do (although admittedly, it sounds better). Music is such an emotional endeavor. And I’ve got that part down. Yep, I’m freaking Adele in the shower. Aretha Franklin in the car. Whitney Houston (before she got so into drugs). You should catch my performances in the house when everyone is at school and work. They are sell outs (truthfully, it appears that even Riley thinks I suck). Anyway, I am so grateful when the song that gets stuck in my head (“so call me maybe” ) somehow gets unstuck. It’s like music to my ears (I HAD TO, DIDN’T I?!).
Published by tonilansbury
I'm a wife, the mother of two teenagers and a dog, a really, really good friend, a freelance advertising copywriter, and an accidental blogger. (I'm also a whole bunch of other stuff, but who's got time to hear about it.) You should come visit my blog (it explains the accidental blogger thing, plus you might like it). It's at gratitudeathon.wordpress.com. I write something I'm grateful for everyday (I'd be grateful if you stopped by.). View all posts by tonilansbury