Rock Star (I Wanna Be a)

Ahh, the beauty of karaoke.

But karaoke at a smoky, blue collar dive paired with a cougar-like mom in a trendy silver leather jacket?

Not as beautiful. Nevertheless, my outfit choice Friday night was the only pox on an evening otherwise filled with hilarity.

The rather...um...down to Earth types...that patronized the Plymouth Pub may not have appreciated my fashion sense (metallic is like, totally in, okay?), but after a few rounds of drinks and a few rounds of singing no one cared. At all.

I used to think the audition episodes of American Idol were total fabrications. Now I realize they were the bible truth, and that many of the aspiring contestants were very likely shipped in from my neighborhood.

I didn't sing, of course. I have a horrible voice and have enough self awareness not to torture those around me. But others sang, and we chimed in plenty loud from our prime front row seating.

Holy God did I laugh. Go. Karaoke. Soon.