Now that I have a car, I sing (badly) all the time, but I was definitely overdue for some fun karaoke times with friends. Courtney, V, and I went to Voicebox and sang our hearts out. About ducks.
Writing from: my study in Portland, Oregon. Listening to: Zen’s snores … making me so sleepy.
There is nothing I do not love about karaoke, even if I haven’t really found the one song I always love to sing. Tonight’s choices seemed more eclectic than usual, though. I tried some new ones, including “Kiss Him Goodbye” by The Nylons, a song I don’t think translates well to karaoke but I love it anyway.
Here’s a pic of the screen during a song that Hawk sang that had a lot of lyrics. I was impressed.
Writing from: my study. Listening to: nothing at all, after hours of listening to just about everything.
Many hours later, I am still riding the high of an epic karaoke evening with Writers’ Bloc. The month I moved here I saw them perform for the first time and thought to myself, “I would love to be in Writers’ Bloc someday.”
A year later, I was.
Since then, we have shared many pints in the back room of a local pub, critiquing and scheming and blethering on. I’ve been lucky enough to perform with them a few times, too. Both the critiques and the performances have been invaluable, and I would not have half the excitement for and confidence in writing that I currently do had it not been for Bloc’s influence.
One of the pre-karaoke cocktails I had at Panda & Sons had a hidden message folded up and tucked into it. Panda said relax, and I listened, and I sang, and I laughed, and I will remember.
Writing from: a frosty lounge in Edinburgh. Listening to: the anti-karaoke, Chopin’s Nocturnes.