Roger and I went out to the Ambassador (pictures coming of the outfit). I've been starting to slip into a little bit of a depression (throat was all scratchy, dealing with more humiliation regarding scans, worrying about Mom, reminders of the fact that I've got cancer, etc...) so Roger decided I needed a night out, just the two of us. It was lovely - I broke training for one night and had a couple of drinks (something called a "Barbie Girl" - yes, it looked and tasted just like a "Barbie Girl". Pink and plastic, innocuous looking but a serious hazard to your moral character.)
Almost no one was there for the first part of the night, so I got to sing 3 times and Roger got to sing twice - I did my traditional "Whatever Lola Wants" (Sarah Vaughn works well when your voice is gone), and Roger sang "Little Red Riding Hood" to me, and made me melt again. Almost 19 years together, and he's still the only one I want to go home with... must be love.
Contrary to Karaoke tradition, there were no old guys singing Frank Sinatra, but there was one old cowboy singing... well, massacring old 80s country songs (what he did to "Living on Love" was a damn shame), and some giggly 20somthings who did things to "Double Vision" that they should be arrested for, but it was a blast. I'd forgotten how much fun it can be just to lose yourself in singing in a crowd. At any rate - I'm going to stumble off to bed, after drinking a bunch of water and taking aspirin to try to stave off the coming morning Barbipocolypse. (Nothing that pink is ever benign - I know I'm going to pay, but it was worth it.) Happy Valentine's Day, y'all.
***stumbling off to bed humming "you're no exception to the rule. I'm irresistible, you fool... give in."***
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