Part of my quest involved helping others.
This Friday, I'm manning the karaoke machine for the first shift of the Spring Fair at Caleb's school. The fair provides a whole lotta cash for the PTO which, in turn, funds a goodly portion of enriching activities, like trips to the Natural Bridge--one of the Seven Natural Wonders!--for the students.
I got an email recently from the Spring Fair coordinator, asking if anyone would be willing to lend some karaoke CDs to the cause.
Oh, I have the CDs. Have I mentioned how much I love the karaoke? Let's just say I practice. Let's just say that if you think you can do a more stirring rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart," than Brandon and I do, then turn around, Bright Eyes. I'm ready.
But let's also say that I'm a little bit nervous (a little bit TERRIFIED?) that the karaoke volunteer work won't go smoothly. Because the last time I worked with children and the karaoke, it went something like this:
Caleb and my niece: [Staring at the screen, mumbling words]
Caleb and my niece: [Staring at the screen, mumbling words as the chorus builds]
Me: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!
Me: DON'T CRY FOR ME, ARGENTINA! COME ON, GUYS! THE TRUTH IS I NEVER LEFT YOU!
It's true that they're family and that's why I can talk to them like this. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to control myself at the Spring Fair, but I'm also pretty sure I'll have to leave my personal collection at home. Most of it is eighties stuff, but the one that the kids might know is probably inappropriate.
For our anniversary, Brandon got me a karaoke CD of newer songs, mostly for the two tunes, as the CD jacket phrases it, "made popular by the Killers." Other than those songs, there are about fifty songs that I've either never heard of, only know the chorus to, or are heavy on the salty lyrics. You haven't heard middle-class, suburban girl until you've heard me on "Drop It Like It's Hot."
And on that note, and on a tip from Jenn, check out Gizoogle, if you're so inclined. It translates web pages to Snoop Dogg speak. Apparently, I wrote a bizzle `bout tha two years I spent blunt-rollin' self-help advice in orda ta become a betta, shot calla person. The PTO would so not let me volunteer if they knew that.