I went to a Christmas cocktail party the other night (how old do I sound, and I have another one on Sunday, with actual old people, but more about that later). Anyway, this was a cookies and cocktails party, where the plan was to drink peppermint martinis, and decorate Christmas cookies, while eating appetizers and having scintillating conversation. Sounds like a good plan to me.

I was informed, however, upon my arrival, that my dear friend who was hostessing this shindig, had one other activity in mind, Turns out she and her husband bought some karaoke game for PS2, and she planned on requiring everyone to play.

“It’s fun.” She assured me, “no one is good, so it’s just fun.”

I have had “sing karaoke” on my list of life goals for about 6 or so years. It’s been on there so long that I’ve lost the physical list it was written on, but I remember that it was there. Karaoke just baffles me though. Are you supposed to really try; get up there and sing your heart out and open yourself up the ridicule and scorn? Or do you go up on a dare and muddle through in a flat and nonchalant voice? I’ve been prodded and urged to sing over the years, but was always just too chicken, which is embarrassing to admit. This game scores you on pitch and timing, so in the spirit of not letting the team down, I had to try to do well.

So the time came for the singing. We made teams, and thankfully, people other than me went first. Then the dial settled on “Wake me up before you Go-Go” by my old friends Wham! This was my song. My heart was pounding and I started to perspire. I gripped the microphone with an intensity that I’m sure looked painful, and I don’t really remember the rest. I think I did respectably, but when I turned around everyone was just looking at me with these big eyes.

Later I got up to do a duet of “Material Girl” and I heard people talking behind me, “Yeah, Andria’s awesome. We’re totally going to win.” I had suspicions that I could carry a tune, but “awesome”—that’s a heady idea. Of course this is awesome at a game that’s similar to guitar hero, which doesn’t require you be able to actually play guitar, so maybe this is all moot.

Also that night, I inadvertently got called a beer expert. Surreal, but much more believable.

So with knowledge of beer, and an ability to sing, perhaps those rock star dreams aren’t so foolish after all. Perhaps my bragging will bit me in the ass; that seems most likely.

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