Alliteration makes me smile and I assume you all too, by extension. You’re welcome.
This semester is drawing to a close and I’m staring down the barrel of a week and a half of insane homework, studying, researching and paper-writing. In order to properly signify the period in between being deathly ill and dead to the world, I decided I needed to sing some karaoke. I had just gotten done delivering a presentation on Participatory Journalism (which I happen to know a thing or two about…ahem…<this blog>) so I felt a beer or two was also in order. The only snafu in that plan was that I only have two types of friends at present: my oldest and dearest who are all at the appropriate stages of their lives and can’t leave husbands/babies to go out at night or friends I make in my classes who are young and free, yet in the same crazed homework boat as I find myself.
With nobody available to join me in my quest for social lubrication I was almost resigned to going home after class. That is, until I remembered a friend who is ALWAYS at the bar near my house for karaoke-Wednesdays. It was perfect. I popped in to meet her and all of her wonderful friends who welcomed me with open arms (arms that would later flail to the sweet sounds of Tina Turner).
If you’ve never spent an evening with a legion of lesbians I highly recommend it. The dynamic is entirely different in a crowd devoid of male genitalia and ego. We danced to an endless stream of guilty pleasure songs (including one by Aaron Carter that I wasn’t ashamed to admit knowing word-for-word) and rapped like Eminem was going out of style (foreshadowing…?). We exchanged suggestions of just how much violence we’d put up with from Chris Brown if we were to get intimate with him, we did choreographed dances to 90’s boybands (my bliss) and drank disgusting beer directly from the pitchers. It was exactly the carefree evening I needed after facing the firing squad in my Journalism class. Pat Benetar and the lovely legion of lesbians set me free. I just might make that a weekly occurrance.
Was it smart of me to spend another night avoiding sleep so soon after being on my deathbed? No. Was it the best decision I’ve made all week? Obviously.