This new MacBook might be a bad thing.
It's almost 1:00 in the morning and I'm laying on my bed, happily humming along to Ben Taylor while playing on the internet.
For the last hour, my dog has given countless exasperated sighs because I'm keeping her up. But who needs sleep when they have wireless internet? That you can access while being horizontal?
(If I begin to look like a meth addict in withdrawal, please intervene. I may come at you like a spider monkey, but I'm sure I'll thank you...someday.)
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Spotlight Hog
I'm not sure why, but after three adult beverages, I am magnetically attracted to stages and microphones. They're like homing beacons. My peripherial vision completely shuts down and all I can see is the magnificent stage before me, cast in an angelic glow (cue trumpets).
Last night was no exception. The minute I walked into Wannabe's, I burned with desire to get behind that karaoke mic. Luckily, the DJ bumped me up and I didn't have to wait long, but it felt like an eternity.
When I'm in this mind frame, I also tend to make friends with everyone. Which is why I found myself singing multiple songs with random people like I'd known them forever. All it took was a simple finger crook from someone singing and I was on that stage in a heartbeat. (Several times without an invitation.) I sang some cheesy country song with a bachelorette party, a rap song with a group of college dudes and a power ballad with a gay black man. And loved every minute of it.
This morning, some friends and I were laughing about the previous night's adventures when someone brought up something I had no recollection of. Confused, I asked where I'd been when it happened. The response back was something to the effect of, "Um, I think you were singing that John Mellencamp song with that old dude."
Niiiiice.
I've decided that I need to ease up on this chummy performance behavior. Because it's just plain not nice to take over when someone has been waiting patiently for their favorite song to be played.
It just makes it hard when despite crashing his song, the gay black man begged me to stay and sing the "Summer Nights" duet from Grease with him.
Fuel to the FIRE.
Last night was no exception. The minute I walked into Wannabe's, I burned with desire to get behind that karaoke mic. Luckily, the DJ bumped me up and I didn't have to wait long, but it felt like an eternity.
When I'm in this mind frame, I also tend to make friends with everyone. Which is why I found myself singing multiple songs with random people like I'd known them forever. All it took was a simple finger crook from someone singing and I was on that stage in a heartbeat. (Several times without an invitation.) I sang some cheesy country song with a bachelorette party, a rap song with a group of college dudes and a power ballad with a gay black man. And loved every minute of it.
This morning, some friends and I were laughing about the previous night's adventures when someone brought up something I had no recollection of. Confused, I asked where I'd been when it happened. The response back was something to the effect of, "Um, I think you were singing that John Mellencamp song with that old dude."
Niiiiice.
I've decided that I need to ease up on this chummy performance behavior. Because it's just plain not nice to take over when someone has been waiting patiently for their favorite song to be played.
It just makes it hard when despite crashing his song, the gay black man begged me to stay and sing the "Summer Nights" duet from Grease with him.
Fuel to the FIRE.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
The Computer Elite
This is officially my first post on my brand new MacBook. And it's amazing.
Last night, I went into the Apple store, found the nearest hipster dude and told him that I was going to buy a computer from him. His face lit up at the easy sale and he walked me through the specs. Fifteen minutes later, I left the store excitedly clutching my (gulp) $1,500 investment.
In true geek fashion, we had some friends over last night, but I spent most of my time sitting at our dining room table gasping in delight and yelling at them to "come look at what my fabulous Mac can do!"
This MacBook has pretty much made my life. It's got everything I could ever need...including Photoshop. (Which means that there might be some hysterically altered pictures of my friends floating around the internet soon.) After playing on it for several hours straight, I can't see why anyone would intentionally choose a PC. Blech.
I had a conversation with a guy several weeks ago that pretty much sums it up. I mentioned that I was in the market for a new Mac and he straight up said to my face, "Oh...you're one of those."
THOSE? Excuse me?
So I straight up said to his face, "Oh, do you mean cooler than you? Because yeah, pretty much."
Last night, I went into the Apple store, found the nearest hipster dude and told him that I was going to buy a computer from him. His face lit up at the easy sale and he walked me through the specs. Fifteen minutes later, I left the store excitedly clutching my (gulp) $1,500 investment.
In true geek fashion, we had some friends over last night, but I spent most of my time sitting at our dining room table gasping in delight and yelling at them to "come look at what my fabulous Mac can do!"
This MacBook has pretty much made my life. It's got everything I could ever need...including Photoshop. (Which means that there might be some hysterically altered pictures of my friends floating around the internet soon.) After playing on it for several hours straight, I can't see why anyone would intentionally choose a PC. Blech.
I had a conversation with a guy several weeks ago that pretty much sums it up. I mentioned that I was in the market for a new Mac and he straight up said to my face, "Oh...you're one of those."
THOSE? Excuse me?
So I straight up said to his face, "Oh, do you mean cooler than you? Because yeah, pretty much."
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