Last night some girlfriends and I got together at a local bar for cocktails and karaoke. It had been a very busy Thursday at work, capped off by an open house at my second grader’s school. At the same time, my husband was prepping for a six-hour drive to Rochester, NY where today we hope to make an offer on a house we’ve seen only on the Internet (more on that next week).
So after my crazy day, the last thing I felt like doing was putting on make up and going out. I was tired, a tad bit cranky, and as much as I wanted to have some quality “me” time with my gal pals, I could barely muster the energy to get there.
My neighbor offered to drive, so really, I had no good reason to cancel. Several ladies had RSVP’d for the event with a solid “maybe,” which these days appears to be the best we can do. It’s like we crave permission to bag it altogether if it’s considered optional.
And yet it seems like we label anything that’s not for our kids, our spouse, our parents, or work as optional.
When I sent the invite for last night’s karaoke party, I got several responses like this:
“Would love to join, but I’m a golf widow on Thursday nights.”
“Hmm…after gymnastics, brownies, school open house, T-ball, and hockey tryouts, I might get there by 9pm.”
“I’ll try to come, but don’t count on me.”
“My husband really wants to watch the hockey playoffs that night and I’ve already been out two nights this week for church and school stuff.”
Hey, I get it! I didn’t feel like going out last night either. But once I arrived at the bar—and got a raspberry mojito into my hand—I had a blast. There were a dozen ladies who managed to break free from their other commitments and we all said the same thing, “I almost didn’t come tonight for (insert reason x, y, z here), but I’m so glad I did.”
We all took a turn at the microphone, belting out songs like “Goodbye Earl,” “I Will Survive,” and “Living on a Prayer.” Some ladies sang as well as a contestant on American Idol. Others professed to keep their day jobs. But we all laughed and promised to return on another Thursday night soon.
When I got home, I found my high school babysitter studying on the coach. I paid her, thanked her profusely for staying up on a school night, and headed up to bed. As I pulled my pajama top over my head, I couldn’t resist belting out a few bars of “Galileo” by the Indigo Girls.
Then I fell into bed with a smile on my face.
Do you have a favorite karaoke tune? When was the last time you sang into a microphone?