Monday, June 13, 2005
I know that I live in an irritating world when Michael Jackson can get acquitted of his child molestation charges and people everywhere are celebrating this fact. Go ahead, defend him. I'll be in the corner over there, quietly puking my guts out.
Some contenders for songs to do at the open-mike next week:
1) Fiona Apple - Shadowboxer. Good song, and I can hit all the notes. That's always a plus.
2) Sarah McLachlan - Fallen, or World on Fire, basically anything provided it's not a terribly overplayed song that everyone loves which I will proceed to slaughter.
3) Katy Rose - Overdrive. For absolutely no reason other than that it is a damn satisfying song to sing along to.
4) Jeff Buckley - Lilac Wine. But now I'm thinking it's a bit too mooney.
God, I don't know. I don't even know why I'm trying to do this when all the recent events in my life have basically reduced my self-esteem to the dismal level it was at when I was about 14 years old. It's not a good time for me to be trying new and potentially disastrous things. I certainly don't want to pull an American Idol and just blow it big-time.
I am so self-deprecating. I keep waiting for that great inner voice of mine to pipe up and say "I love you. Everything will be alright. You can do it," and assorted cliches. But that voice has been alarmingly silent lately.
All I know is that singing songs, especially sad ones, makes me feel better.
I'll go download some piano versions of 'Shadowboxer' now. Why the hell not?