Dance Like No one is Watching...Sing Like There is no Tomorrow

There is something to be said about having your own private Karaoke party with the only observer being your dog. Since the ex took the stereo and the majority of the CD collection (which was most of his shit anyway), I've been downloading music and playing it through my computer, which by the way, gives great sound if the bitrate is good. And so Nina Simone's My Baby Just Cares For Me came on. The first time, I sipped my glass of wine and swayed to the beats mouthing the words. It felt good. I played it again, singing the occasional line outloud and moving more. It felt even better. I played it for the 3rd time. Full on, out-of-my-chair singing like no one was watching--a full on karaoke rendition with most likely too much hip sway and the lyrics were spewing out at the top of my lungs. I surprised myself at how remarkable I sounded (or at least presumed I sounded).

The dog sat in the papasan chair blinking his tired eyes at me, probably hoping that there would be no 4th go at it. The neighbours were probably shaking their heads and wondering if they should call the police from the racket happening in #15. But I didn't care. It felt fantastic. It felt liberating - kind of like the first time you can walk around your apartment naked with no fear of a roommate or other member of the household catching you in the act.

The pen for a mic, the sultry poise that just goes hand-in-hand with Nina, finished by a glass of well deserved wine and the applause thundered in my mind drowning out all worries and frustrations.

Here's to Karaoke!