It's my party and I'll cry if I want to (except that it really isn't my party and I wasn't crying)

Let me tell you a little bit about my weekend. It all began when I agreed to sing in my roommate's cousin's wedding. Got that? Roommate's cousin's. Anyway, I assume that it's going to be some typical, sappy love song like "From This Moment" (which I may or may not have actually practiced, just in case). Oh, no. No, no, the song was "There is Love" by Captain and Tenille. I want to know, by show of hands, who in the holy world has heard of Captain and Tenille? And what is he the captain of anyway? I also want to mention that this song was not designed for sopranos.

Of course, I'm a soprano.

Anyway, I practice the song a few times in the days leading up to the wedding. Although the song is low, I manage it pretty well. Finally, the big day arrives. And I don't have a voice. I mean, nothing comes out when I open my mouth. Consequently, the drive to the wedding (which was in the middle of the boondocks. Fun Fact: the middle of the boondocks is Neeses, SC, in case anyone ever asks you), is spent screaming to warm up my voice and clear my throat, as well as gargling Coke Zero, which ended up bubbling out of my mouth and down my front.

Beautiful.

I arrive, I practice, everything seems to be at least halfway decent. I get up, I sing, I sit back down and think that I've made it. I performed the most ridiculous song on the face of the earth and came out alive. I even thought that maybe it was actually pretty good.

Until a small boy came up to me at the reception and asked me why it sounds like I'm crying when I sing. FML.


Roommate quote of the day: (in reference to the copious amounts of time she spends on facebook) "I'm not facestalking, I'm faceloving!"