Love karaoke love karaoke
The communal transformation into Alanis this evening has left me hoarse. From where did three easy-going girls summon up so much random anger for a truly terrifying rendition of "You Outta Know?"
More exciting-- the 15 seconds of "Lady Marmelade" where I actually believe that I am Lil Kim. Here's how smaller group outings usually go. You get a lot more in when you don't take 14 people. First, Aussie suddenly mutates into Olivia Newton John. Then, I punch in a number that is not in the catalogue. Nothing comes of it. We make our guest sing something, then we take the mic away, since I have punched in an ill advised duet to sing with Aussie. Then, Mog will sing something that was written circa 1940, I will marvel that the phenomenon of sound recording existed back then, and will then try to compete with Aussie's tamborine rhythme by shaking the marracca (sp?) in the microseconds between actual beats, thereby creating a cacophony of completely deafening chaos. Vague attempts to get the guest to sing again will then follow before I decide I want to sing traumatizing ballads, but my fingers will betray me with something like Delta Dawn or the 5th Dimension, and someone else will steal the remote control from my hands to choose one of the 15 remaining songs on the list that I have not yet learned on previous visits. Then come the obligatory thoughts about ordering French Toast and ice cream, which I end up refraining from since the effort of shouting in Japanese into the phone over the music is likely to land me with a plate of omuraisu (omelet filled with rice and covered in ketchup) which would be the second plate in my life that I would come to regret.
During these songs that I don't know, I will try to sing creative harmonies, but will eventually fall back into meowing during boring parts, repeating the call of "One Dollar Sushi," while Olivia Newton John makes another smashing appearance in the corner and Mog reaches for the control to put in something more recent like Frank Sinatra. Before the night ends, I will sneak in the neverending version of "Fame" that is at Shidax (the lyrics should be changed to "I'm gonna sing forever"), Olivia will occasionally morph into Gloria Estefan, Mog will ignore some attempt to annoy her, Green Day might make an appearance, I will loudly growl that one of my favorites is not on the song list at this particular karaoke venue (it should be standardized so that the list is the same at Big Echo, Shidax and Sanrio, thereby allowing me to complete my memorization of all 2,000 songs), and spontaneous cushion dancing will hopefully break out. I remember that I am sitting next to a guest, but this is unlikely to change the evening in any way, since no one has ever managed to resist the draw of Nihonjin-style karaoke!
Sadly, no one ever sings "My Way" at these smaller outings. I've never figured out why. Now I have stayed up really late writing this all out, which will only add further credence to the argument that in fact *I* am the biggest dork in the world (closely followed by my coworkers), and I will be dozing during my morning class, a one-on-one, which might not be a problem, as four hours of sleep will have me hallucinating extra class members to round out our discussions.
Zzzzzzzzzzz
More exciting-- the 15 seconds of "Lady Marmelade" where I actually believe that I am Lil Kim. Here's how smaller group outings usually go. You get a lot more in when you don't take 14 people. First, Aussie suddenly mutates into Olivia Newton John. Then, I punch in a number that is not in the catalogue. Nothing comes of it. We make our guest sing something, then we take the mic away, since I have punched in an ill advised duet to sing with Aussie. Then, Mog will sing something that was written circa 1940, I will marvel that the phenomenon of sound recording existed back then, and will then try to compete with Aussie's tamborine rhythme by shaking the marracca (sp?) in the microseconds between actual beats, thereby creating a cacophony of completely deafening chaos. Vague attempts to get the guest to sing again will then follow before I decide I want to sing traumatizing ballads, but my fingers will betray me with something like Delta Dawn or the 5th Dimension, and someone else will steal the remote control from my hands to choose one of the 15 remaining songs on the list that I have not yet learned on previous visits. Then come the obligatory thoughts about ordering French Toast and ice cream, which I end up refraining from since the effort of shouting in Japanese into the phone over the music is likely to land me with a plate of omuraisu (omelet filled with rice and covered in ketchup) which would be the second plate in my life that I would come to regret.
During these songs that I don't know, I will try to sing creative harmonies, but will eventually fall back into meowing during boring parts, repeating the call of "One Dollar Sushi," while Olivia Newton John makes another smashing appearance in the corner and Mog reaches for the control to put in something more recent like Frank Sinatra. Before the night ends, I will sneak in the neverending version of "Fame" that is at Shidax (the lyrics should be changed to "I'm gonna sing forever"), Olivia will occasionally morph into Gloria Estefan, Mog will ignore some attempt to annoy her, Green Day might make an appearance, I will loudly growl that one of my favorites is not on the song list at this particular karaoke venue (it should be standardized so that the list is the same at Big Echo, Shidax and Sanrio, thereby allowing me to complete my memorization of all 2,000 songs), and spontaneous cushion dancing will hopefully break out. I remember that I am sitting next to a guest, but this is unlikely to change the evening in any way, since no one has ever managed to resist the draw of Nihonjin-style karaoke!
Sadly, no one ever sings "My Way" at these smaller outings. I've never figured out why. Now I have stayed up really late writing this all out, which will only add further credence to the argument that in fact *I* am the biggest dork in the world (closely followed by my coworkers), and I will be dozing during my morning class, a one-on-one, which might not be a problem, as four hours of sleep will have me hallucinating extra class members to round out our discussions.
Zzzzzzzzzzz