We bailed on last night's plans.

I got a call in the afternoon from Joey and he sounded like a wee mouse, "I'm tired, can we take it easy tonight?" Of course we can, I'm about to pass out myself.

So there was some Food Network watching.  We love Jamie Oliver, among others.

Why this is relevant is that we'd planned to go support a karaoke buddy at a show he was doing.  Sorry, Peter.

This past Sunday's Kickass Karaoke was attended by a group of geeks.  It was just like running a conference - running around introducing myself to people, trying to get everyone to have a little fun, flying on adrenaline.  Only this time the adrenaline didn't come from the stress of wrangling 300 people - it came from singing.

I never used to sing in public.

Yes, I did play after play after play from the age of about six, studied theatre in college, worked in theatre thereafter (though as a stage manager, not a performer).  But even when in musicals I never sang solos.  I was terrified at auditions and sang badly.  Same happened at NTI, when I met with the (vile, not working there anymore) singing teacher, I could barely squeak out my song.

However, I got old.  And no longer cared.  And it turns out I can sing.

I'm not great.  I'm not going to be discovered at 31 and have a fabulous career as a cabaret singer doing whatever songs I like best (how fun would that be! and next, I'll do my own sultry version of Learn to Fly by Foo Fighters).  But I hit most of the notes and they sound kind of pretty.

It's shocking to me, frankly.  But - keen.  I enjoy it.  And it's a holiday weekend, so we can stay all night this coming Sunday.

Maybe I will finally do Buffalo Stance.  Or not.