July 29, 2010

Well, I am.

Just line up at the door to dunk your chicken fingers of lameness in my ear.

After a harrowing day of travel (including a semi-scary side trip to a semi-ghetto-Wendy's in a semi-sketchy Philly shopping plaza) I pitched my karaoke idea to 36x37 on our drive to Wilmington Tuesday night.

Her immediate response?

"HELL YEAH, we're singing karaoke!"

(She's awesome.)

The plan: Attend our all-day meeting (which actually turned out to be extraordinarily productive and positive -- miracles do happen!), do happy hour with coworkers, grab dinner and then hit a karaoke bar with as many brave coworkers as we could guilt into joining us.

I warned 36x37 that my repertoire is firmly entrenched in the 80s power ballad wheelhouse, with the occasional zigzag into Etta James territory. She notified me that she specialized in throaty Motown classics.

This had the making of a fantastic evening.

By 5:00, however, despite the surprisingly-fruitful meeting, I knew I was in trouble. I'd been nursing a worsening migraine all day, and it had finally hit full force: Waves of nausea? Check. Thousands of tiny knives stabbing me behind the eyes and at the base of my skull (and everywhere else on my head and neck)? Check. Desire to saw off my head to exact some relief? Double-check.

I braved happy hour, ate a few chips and felt a smidge better. But as soon as we started walking to the car to head to dinner, I knew the jig was up.

36x37, in her infinite wisdom, suggested we just go back to the hotel, order room service and call it a night. (She's smart.)

By the time we got back to the hotel, I was convinced I was dying. I called T from the fetal position on the bed, in tears -- the kind you cry when you're little and you have to throw up and you just cry because...throwing up sucks, and you just want your mom to stroke your hair and tell you you can stay home from school and watch soap operas and eat saltines and drink ginger ale that she only buys when you get sick.

(I regress when I get sick; I'm not saying I'm proud of this.)

So there were no sing-y fun times. At least not on this trip. Lame sauce.

But now that I know 36x37 is game, it is ON. And when this goes down, I'll make sure you all get to share in the Bon Jovi/Temptations goodness.

3 backtalk:

Ky • twopretzels.com said...

Oh no!!!! I hope you are better today. That is AWFUL.


My favorite part of this post: "...my repertoire is firmly entrenched in the 80s power ballad wheelhouse..."

Maura said...

Hell YEAH, it's on! Such a funny post. :)

I hope you're feeling better, Missy. Fun times traveling with you.

wrestling kitties said...

Hope you feel better :)

And this post cracked me up!!

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