As already discussed, my drive to work is long and boring. I like to listen to music on my commute and regret all of the things I've ever done wrong sing.
An honest fact about me is that I don't sing anywhere other than in my car or in the shower. I don't enjoy singing around other people, probably because singing for no reason was always very discouraged in my home growing up.
"Who sings that song? Yeah, let's let them sing it." and "We don't have food for the band" (when my singing was at the dinner table) were famous family catch-phrases, and now years later, I find myself having the same attitude towards people who sing spontaneously now.
I love to sing along to my jams in the car, though. That's my time to shine and no one can stop me. My voice is decent enough; it's nothing anyone will ever pay to hear, but hopefully nothing anyone will ever kill themselves or others after hearing either.
Of course, thanks to this current sickness, my speaking voice is reminiscent of an 80 year old chain-smoker who just happens to also be going through puberty. This morning I hop into my car, start on my way to work, and turn my songs on loud. As the first song plays, I open my mouth and heart to join in and am horrified and hysterical to hear the noise exiting my body.
I find myself completely unable to create noise for some notes, five pitches off for others, and croaking and squeaking for all the others intermittently, and while this is somewhat frustrating, it's also one of the best things I've ever heard, because if there's anything that makes me giggle hard it's disaster.
In fact, I find my new singing voice so funny, that when the time comes for my drive home, I set up my camera and film the hour long journey home of me jamming out to every song that came on. It was terrible, but amazing.
I get home so excited to listen to this fantastic new sound I have discovered to find the video completely without sound. Wut. The. Heck. All other videos on my phone play with sound fine, but my hour long journey in musical travesty is in complete silence.
I honestly don't know what's more upsetting: that my voice is a disaster movie in all it's hilarity, or that my phone detested it so much that it refused to record any of it.
An honest fact about me is that I don't sing anywhere other than in my car or in the shower. I don't enjoy singing around other people, probably because singing for no reason was always very discouraged in my home growing up.
"Who sings that song? Yeah, let's let them sing it." and "We don't have food for the band" (when my singing was at the dinner table) were famous family catch-phrases, and now years later, I find myself having the same attitude towards people who sing spontaneously now.
I love to sing along to my jams in the car, though. That's my time to shine and no one can stop me. My voice is decent enough; it's nothing anyone will ever pay to hear, but hopefully nothing anyone will ever kill themselves or others after hearing either.
Of course, thanks to this current sickness, my speaking voice is reminiscent of an 80 year old chain-smoker who just happens to also be going through puberty. This morning I hop into my car, start on my way to work, and turn my songs on loud. As the first song plays, I open my mouth and heart to join in and am horrified and hysterical to hear the noise exiting my body.
I find myself completely unable to create noise for some notes, five pitches off for others, and croaking and squeaking for all the others intermittently, and while this is somewhat frustrating, it's also one of the best things I've ever heard, because if there's anything that makes me giggle hard it's disaster.
In fact, I find my new singing voice so funny, that when the time comes for my drive home, I set up my camera and film the hour long journey home of me jamming out to every song that came on. It was terrible, but amazing.
I get home so excited to listen to this fantastic new sound I have discovered to find the video completely without sound. Wut. The. Heck. All other videos on my phone play with sound fine, but my hour long journey in musical travesty is in complete silence.
I honestly don't know what's more upsetting: that my voice is a disaster movie in all it's hilarity, or that my phone detested it so much that it refused to record any of it.
I was a little startled by the title. You don't really have an autoimmune disease, do you?
ReplyDeleteI don't think so. That would be pretty sketch. But "who needs auto tune when your immune system is craptasmic?" Wasn't as catchy...
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