And Then There Was Grief

Today’s Attire:  black thigh length spaghetti strap tiered lace tank tunic (Macy’s $14) black knee length cotton walking shorts (Ashley Stewart $14), black and white mesh loafers (Rockport Outlet $19).

Outfit Justification:  Today’s outfit is very simple. And yes I’m wearing all black again. But this time it isn’t just because it’s easy, it’s because I’m in mourning. There was death in my family over the weekend and I found out last night.

My Relationship With Death:

As mentioned above, I had a death in the family. Actually it was a family friend. Her name was Becky. And she was like a surrogate grandmother to me. She was like a mother to my mom. And since I found out last night from my mom, I haven’t really dealt with it in my mind.  She was in her 80’s. She lived a long life, but it’s still hard when someone leaves this world.  Some of my early fashion items were a result of things she’d given me over the years.  She’d call my mom and ask me to come up and grab the bag of goodies. Sometimes it was fun accessories, other times it was cute jeans, and sometimes it was yummy pies and cakes.  I loved going up to her apartment and looking at all cool antique jewelry she had.  And my mother loved it as well.  Becky gave me a bracelet that is my favorite accessory that I own. It’s a beautiful large rhinestone bracelet.  I love this piece because it’s blinged out, but not in a gaudy way. It’s classic. I have worn it to every formal event that I’ve attended since my junior prom in high school.  Now it’s the only thing I have of hers. I will miss her so much.  She was the grandmother I never had.

This blog isn’t going to be a fun one, because I’m sad.  But I decided when I started writing my blog, that I would be very honest about my life and my feelings. I’ve seen a lot of death in my life. And I like many people have difficulties with it. I run from it.  Some of you don’t know, but my father died when I was 11. That has made a very profound impact on my life.  My issues with death and abandonment stem from this one event in my life.  I run from death.  I don’t go to funerals, wakes or memorials.  I’ve attended a few in my life.  The ones I’ve attended, I’ve had to leave early because I’m so overwhelmed with emotion I have to leave. It’s paralyzing.  Even at my dad’s rosary and funeral, I couldn’t stay till the end.  Hearing the loud wailing of my aunts, seeing him in the casket, I was barely old enough to understand what was going on. It was a very hard thing to endure at age 11. My father died right after Thanksgiving. It’s the reason why I have a hard time with that particular holiday to this day, it reminds me of the time when my father died. That event changed me and my life forever.

Death is never easy on anyone.  It affects everyone differently. Death invokes a great deal amount of fear in me. One of the hardest things for me to accept is that as I grow older, more and more people that I love will die.  I’m an only child and my mother is all that I have left.  And when the day comes that she should leave this earth, I fear that I’ll fall completely apart.  The fear of loss is one of my biggest fears. It affects every relationship I have, especially my marriage.  There’s a part of me that always freaks out a little bit whenever my husband goes off to work or anywhere and I’m not with him. When he comes home late and hasn’t called, in the back of mind, I’m worried that he’s been taken from me.  He’s been in accident or something awful has happened. When he gets a cold or the flu, I’m paranoid that this is the illness that will end his life.  I know this isn’t rational, but that’s a tiny part of my brain that feels that way.  Again, I’m dealing with this. And this isn’t news to him. He does his best reassure me that we’ll be together forever, but in life there’s no guarantee.

This irrational fear of death has even affected my friendships. I’ve recently ended a friendship because a close friend of mine has chosen a path of drugs and destruction that I know will kill him. And I can’t bear to watch him die. It hurts like hell that I no longer have this friendship. And when I see him, it hurts me to know that we are no longer friends because he chose his addiction to drugs (and alcohol) over our close friendship. I’ve lost a few friends to drug abuse and addiction. And I swear it’s like losing my dad all over again when it happens.  I don’t have the strength to endure that.

I conclude with this thought about death and my fear.  Because I’m Christian and I believe in heaven, it does make me feel better that I know they’ve gone on to a better place. I know that these people who I have loved, will continue to live in my memory and my heart. I do my best to remember the good times with them.  I was fortunate to have them in my life. I try not to let my irrational fear of death rule my entire life. The fear is there.  But I have to learn from it. The best lesson I have learned is to live each day to the fullest. Tell my friends and loved ones that I love them and show them how much they mean to me on a daily basis.  That’s the way I balance it all out.  Please after reading this, please tell someone how much they mean to you, just because.  That’s the best gift you can give anyone.

Retail Therapy Monday

Today’s Attire: Today I’m sporting a long black spaghetti strap cotton maxi dress (Old Navy $10.49), silver textured flats (Payless Shoe source $15) I’m accessorized with small white sapphire stud earrings (Tippr.com $2) and a long Elsa Perreti infinite circle pendant necklace (Tiffany & Co birthday gift from my husband)

Outfit Justification: Maxi dresses are easy. Black is easy. Put the two together easy.  So here’s the deal, I woke up at 8:50 this morning and I have to be at work at 9:00.  Can you say blind panic?  Well that was this morning’s mentality. I was kinda blue most of the weekend.  Whatever was bugging me was stayed with me all weekend. I made several attempts to get out of the house and failed miserably 8 out of 10 times. I managed to make it to my friend’s wedding rehearsal, and at 5:30 on Sunday I managed to finally leave the house to get some kind of retail therapy.  This dress was the result of yesterday’s retail therapy session. The dress was meant for mornings like the one I had today.  And frankly, a black dress can be dressed up or down. It can cover a multitude of sins.  And when it’s new, you know it’s clean and know where the darn thing is…it solved my Monday morning dilemma. Plus I think I look pretty darn good.

Retail Therapy Is A Beautiful Thing:

I have a shopping problem. I might as well put it out there. I shop way too much. My husband is aware of my shopping addiction and so is my financial planner.  My husband is more understanding than my financial planner. Oh well, everyone has some kind of a vice. Mine won’t kill me, but it could make me go completely broke in the end. At least I’ll look fabulous.  That being said, when I’m sad or upset I have a tendency to turn to a couple things.  Listening to music is usually my first choice generally.  Second I turned to singing. Third I try to write. And if the first three options aren’t doing it for me, then it’s off to the mall.

To keep it real, I have battled depression off and on for the last 3 or 4 years. I’ve seen therapists, I’ve been on medication, I’ve tried natural holistic remedies, you name it. I’m doing better now, but it’s something that I will probably battle for the rest of my life. Every now and then I hit a patch that’s kind of rough, this weekend was one such patch. There have been so many changes in my life recently and I’m having trouble adjusting. This includes work, friendship management, figuring out who I am as an artist and sleep deprivation. You add the fact that I’m still recovering from a 2 month long illness followed by gallbladder removal surgery and you have the equation of my depression this past weekend.

After multiple attempts to leave the house over the weekend only to end up not going and wallowing, I finally made it out 5:30pm on Sunday. I know most stores close at 6pm on Sunday, I had to work quickly.  I headed to 3^rd Street Promenade because I figure things would close a bit later. I had a mission.

I try not to shop without having a purpose or mission in mind. This was the plan:

1. Go to White House Black Market to shop their sale

2. Stop at the Gap to find a black maxi dress,

3. Head over to the Apple store to look at their setup at their Genius Bar so I can emulate their display at my work Genius Bar.

4. If I had time I’ll pop by another store for anything interesting.

I did execute the plan effectively. I did everything I set out to do. And I came away with some decent purchases that were super on sale.

The trip was fun and positive. I however, had one incident with a salesgirl that insulted me after I tried on a striped dress that wasn’t as flattering in the stomach area. It wasn’t the salesperson that was assisting me, but another one in the store. I was telling the lady helping me that I loved the shape of the dress, but I didn’t think it was flattering in the stomach area. In comes nosy salesperson. Who looks at me, twists her face in disgust and says to me “You should really stick with basic black”. Did she actually just say that to me? That of course pissed me off. First of all you shouldn’t offer a negative opinion when you’re not working with the customer. Second, that was extremely offensive telling me I should only wear basic black because I’m not friggin size 2 and don’t have abs of steel. Third of all, Eff you stupid size 0 moron, go back to customer service training because you have obviously don’t know anything about it. I made sure she knew I was annoyed by her statement.  I snapped back and said “Basic black is boring, and I’m not boring! Basic black is for those who lack creativity and want to fade into the background. In case you haven’t noticed I have blue hair and I have no intention of fading into anyone’s background”. She scampered away after I said that. I don’t feel bad for getting mad. I know that I don’t have the perfect model size body.  I feel I have a great body for my current circumstances. I know how to dress the body that I have. I have curves that I embrace, and I know tricks to camouflage the curves that I don’t embrace. I don’t need some stupid girl to make me feel self-conscious about not having a flat stomach and still wanting to wear something body hugging and not black.

Despite the not so great experience, I felt like a million bucks after picking up a few items that I absolutely adored. Pieces that will no doubt show up in my blog this week. After shopping I was in better spirits. I picked up something fabulous to make me feel fabulous. I call that mission accomplished.

Emotions and Music

Today’s Attire:  Grey Def Leppard concert t-shirt, (purchased at the concert) medium wash skinny jeans (Gap Outlet $27) Skull slip on Vans style sneaker (Ed Hardy $25).

Outfit Justification: I spent most of the week trying to step up the style situation, but it’s Friday, sometimes it just has to be a t-shirt and jeans day. Don’t judge me because I own and wear Ed Hardy.  I bought and loved this before it became the official attire of douchebags.

Music and Emotion:

So last night at a karaoke bar, I had an experience that threw me for a bit. I often encounter interesting people from all walks of life when I sing karaoke.  And if someone has heard me sing, sometimes they’re kind enough to request me to sing a song for them. I’m always honored and touched by this kind of request.  If you’re in a bar where karaoke is going on, no one has to pay attention or even talk to you if they don’t feel so inclined. Me personally, I tend to sit in the front, and I hold myself to a different standard as an audience member. When I’m in the front I make my best effort to be attentive. If someone does a song particularly well I will get up and tell them how much I appreciated their performance. If it wasn’t that great, I’ll just clap politely.  But I digress.  My point is a person doesn’t have to ask you to sing a song.  That’s why when someone does ask I try to honor that request.

These requests have often made me nervous, especially if I don’t know the song. Or if the song is something I know, but I know someone else in the bar does much better than I could do. I put extra pressure on myself to sing to well for this person. I’m not getting paid, but this must mean something to the person who asked, so I want to make sure it’s to their liking and expectation. One time at the Brass Monkey, an older gentleman was visiting LA with his daughter from DC.  He had heard me sing a song and came over and complimented me. I thanked him. He then asked if I would be willing to sing Midnight Train to Georgia by Gladys Knight and the Pips.  I was hesitant because my friend Lisa, who wasn’t that that evening does that song so much better than I could.  And that’s a big song. Then the gentleman said the reason why he was asking was that a friend of theirs had just passed away and they were missing the funeral, and that song was her favorite song. So when he said that I had to do it. I looked at my friend David, and whispered that I didn’t think I could do this. David assured me I could. When it was my turn to sing, I sang to the best of my ability.  I messed up some parts, but for the most part it went well. When I looked over to the gentleman and his daughter, they both had tears in their eyes and she was full blown crying.  I worked that much harder to get through the song. When it was over, they both thanked me profusely and told me how much it meant for them to hear that song. David reassured me that it wasn’t the way Lisa would have sang it, but it was still well done. I excused myself and went to the ladies room and the moment I was out of sight of anyone the tears started to fall. I didn’t understand why I was crying, but I was so overcome by what I had done for this stranger and his daughter that I was moved to tears.  That was a first for me.

Flash forward to last night. I headed to Brittania to hang with my buddy Starr who was KJ’ing there that night. There was a huge crowd of people that had been there the Tuesday before. Just as I got there to greet Starr, a woman who I had seen on Tuesday was asking her something. Starr said she didn’t know the song asked me if I knew it. I asked what song, she was asking for Someone Like You by Adele. I said I knew it. The woman asked if I would do it. I agreed. Starr put me in the rotation. I headed to the bar and ordered a drink.  I’ve sung Adele songs before, but I don’t do that one.  I figured that song is a real downer, and it’s usually overdone.  I’ve watched the Adele DVD and have cried while watching her cry while performing it. I’ve seen the Saturday Night Live sketch where everyone cries when the song is played. (The sketch is hilarious) I even watched a friend sing it at my birthday party break into tears as she sang it.  There’s something about that song. As my turn came up to sing, I was nervous as hell about singing this song. This had the potential to go very very badly and being a disaster. Yes I know it’s karaoke, but I really don’t like embarrassing myself by doing something poorly.

This is what happened. Starr was kind enough to lower the key a half step for me. I walked up there and people cheered, I guess because they remembered me from the other night.  As the introduction started to play everyone “awwww’d” In my mind I was starting freak out. The opening note came out of my mouth and the vocals came. I could hear I was in tune. I started to focus on the words. By the time I got to the higher parts of the chorus people started to cheer. The audience was waving their hands. The woman in front of me looked really into it.  And while all this was going on, I could feel nerves in my stomach become more intense. Then my mind took me to a place where I remembered being the person this song was sung too. I was the one who “married now” and “settled down”. And I thought about the person who I had hurt tremendously by ending the relationship. By the end of the song I was crying. I didn’t know at one point that had happened, but I knew my eyes were all watery and I was kind of a mess. The audience went nuts and the woman who asked me to sing the song was hugging me. I turned my head toward Starr and put my head down. I was embarrassed because I was emotional and crying. It was so weird. I calmed down pretty soon afterwards, but I was still so confused about why I reacted the way I did. And I felt weird about it.

After I got home and I chatted with my husband about it. After we went to bed I thought about the first time he heard me sing a gospel song. I sang Amazing Grace and a family friend’s funeral a month after we were married. He told me that he had never heard me sing like that before. He referred to the emotion that was in my voice. It brought him to tears. And he watched how the people at funeral reacted to the sound of the emotion and pain in my voice.  And several people after the service came up to me and said how moved they were by my song. Even my mother, who never comments on my singing, was touched by my rendition of that song. Through the years of my life people often said that the quality of my voice has been very different. And that when I sing you can see the emotion behind the song. I’m a passionate person and I don’t hide it. But when I do something creative, like sing it really seems to come through.  Whether I’m sad, like at that funeral, or I’m angry like most angsty rock songs, you can tell.

As I sit here writing this, I think of all the times my voice has affected other people’s emotions. When I sang at my friend’s wedding in 2008, at the rehearsal and the wedding, I managed to make the majority of the wedding party cry, including the bride and the groom. The weekend that my ex-husband walked out on me I remember singing Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler and a friend who didn’t know me that well, but knew what had happened said it was the most gut wrenching thing to watch.  The amount of pain I was in was so evident that no one could deny something was really going on with me and that song. It moved him to see that.  I guess that’s why I hate that song so much.  I guess it’s all part of being an artist. This is why Adele’s and Pink’s song affect people so much, that emotion is so raw. And I’m fortunate enough to be able to tap into that. 

White Hot Karaoke

Today’s Attire:  A white peasant blouse (Ashley Stewart $14) with a white pleated peasant maxi skirt (Ashley Stewart $14) with white and black mesh loafers (Rockport Outlet $19). Accessorized with wide black elastic belt (My Baby Jo $6) beaded cotton cuff (Torrid $4), black beaded rose pendant choker (Forever 21 $4) big black and silver floral hoop earrings (H&M $3), a blue cotton headband (the thing is so old I have no idea where I got it).

Outfit Justification:  OK yesterday I was wearing all black, today all white.  What’s with that, right?  Honestly wearing all one color is easy. Especially if you were up late, overslept and need to put something on that looks like you put at least 2 seconds of thought into it.  I originally bought this outfit for Mother’s Day and for a wedding.  I never dreamed I’d be strolling into work in it. But again it was easy.  I made it a bit costume-y with the accessories.  I do look a little like a peasant waltzing the halls of the office.  I know many people stay away from this much white, but I embrace it.  (The dark skin thing helps) People often say that white makes you look bigger, it gets too dirty too quickly, and well it’s white.  White can make you look bigger if not done properly.  Proper fit does a lot in making you look slimmer or smaller, accessorizing helps too.  It’s not just about the color.  It’s how it makes you feel.  And frankly I feel pretty light and cool in it. 

Karaoke Psych 101:  I think those people who have met me and know a little about me know that I love karaoke.  Singing karaoke brings me to my happy place mentally.  Part of it is because I love to sing. Part of it is that I’m a skilled singer. It gives me to the opportunity to practice both my singing and my performance skills.   Part of it is that I get a music education many times when I go to karaoke.  Finally it’s big psychological case study in human nature.  You’re probably saying “what?” to that last sentence.  But bear with me for a moment, I’ll clarify.

Karaoke usually takes place in a bar where there’s alcohol. I don’t have to tell you that the people- watching is at its best when people are drinking.  You watch inhibitions go down and confidence rise.   You add the music and the singing factor it takes it to a whole other level.  The thing about karaoke is that it gives people the opportunity to live out their rock star dreams for the duration of a song.  For a few minutes you get to be Jon Bon Jovi, Fergie, Rihanna, Steve Perry, Freddie Mercury, David Lee Roth, Whitney Houston and Dave Gahan. (If you don’t know who these people are, that’s what Google is for.)  Even if you don’t sound like them, you get to be them in your head. The spectators get the opportunity to be treated to a one of kind performance by an individual. It could be awful, it could be great. It’s truly an adventure.

So back to my point about karaoke being a psychological case study.  The mental thinking that goes on at a night at karaoke is something of a phenomenon.  I’m dying for my friend Natalie to write a sketch depicting our lives and encounters at our favorite karaoke bar.  I go to karaoke a lot. I’ve made some awesome friends doing it.  I made some friends that are KJ’s (that’s Karaoke Jockey, for those who are unfamiliar with the term) and I love hearing their perspective from behind the booth.  We’ve all been exposed to the types. I’d like to spell out a few of my favorites.

The Karaoke Circuit: This is the person who will frequent several karaoke bars in the area, usually in the same night.  They are generally pretty cheap.  If there’s a two drink minimum, they usually order soda because they refuse to pay too much. They usually bug the KJ repeatedly to see when their turn is because they got to get to the next bar. The usually sing their signature song and wait for praise or accolades from the audience.  They usually have some “thing” or gimmick.  Like they play the harmonica, wear a funny outfit, wear too much eyeline and a cowboy hat or do a funny dance. After their performance they head out the door without tiping the KJ or their wait staff.  The psychology behind these individuals is fascinating and I’m not sure what makes them tick.  But they are on the circuit and they are on a mission. 

The Diva: This person takes karaoke very seriously. Usually they have their own CD. They want the KJ to raise and lower the key of the song every time.  They like to scream instructions to the KJ to raise and lower the levels of their microphone for optimal performance. Often they know which version of the song they want to sing by name of the karaoke company (Sunfly, Sound Choice, Chartbusters).  At one point they have said to a KJ “make sure I’m on your list, and move me up, because I’m really good”.  The Diva is known for being on the pompous side of things.  They’re not patient, they don’t understand why the whole night isn’t dedicated to their performances, they generally don’t care about the other people in line to sing. And get really pissed when the crowd doesn’t go nuts when they sing. They also tend to get upset when another person in the bar happens to sing a song that they consider “their” song. And in some cases they will try to out sing that person with the microphone to prove that they should be the one doing the song and not person who actually signed up for it.  In the Diva’s mind Simon Cowell, Randy Jackson or some person from a record label will be in the audience and will give them a record contract on the spot. 

Drunken D-bag: This particular character will pound a bunch of drinks. To the point where they’ve become obnoxious to everyone, bar staff and patrons alike.  They pick the douchiest song that everyone has sung to death.  They make all the usual jokes that go along with those songs and act like it’s the first time anyone has ever performed that song in a bar.  They have a tendency to heckle other singers as they’re singing because they think they’re funny.  At some point they will get so drunk to the point where they are slurring their vocals and will probably throw up on the floor, at a table or somewhere in the bar that isn’t the bathroom.  Some song choices of drunken d-bags are: Bohemian Rhapsody, Don’t Stop Believin, Creep, Livin On A Prayer, Baby Got Back, Proud Mary, Girls Just Want to Have Fun, Like A Virgin and Total Eclipse of the Heart. This is not gender specific.  Girls can be drunken d-bags too. 

The Sleeper: I feel like I fall into this category.  This is the type of singer that you never see coming, nor can you even predict what they will sing. What I love about this category of karaoke singer is that it’s always a surprise what happens with these people.  You can see someone go up to the microphone and  say “ I see Proud Mary in our future” and the person sings Queen.  Or you see someone who looks meek and quiet and they sing some metal song that you suspect they’re too young or innocent to even know. It’s the element of surprise.  A lot of my friends fall into this category because they love all kinds of genres, and you never can tell what’s going to come out of them. My friend David will sing Mental Health by Quiet Riot, and then his next song is I Touch Myself by the Divinyls.  Why? Because he can.  My friend Natalie, who when we met her, was known as “Come On Eileen” because she sang that song so cute and so well. She’s a cute little white girl who can sing Ciara’s Oh, like a dream and rap Ludacris’ rap solo better than some hard core boys I know (yes I happen to know an occasional hard core boy).  And then there’s me: people see this black girl and immediately expect Aretha Franklin, Beyonce and Whitey Houston. What they get from me is Muse, Chris Cornell, Pat Benatar, Def Leppard and Foo Fighters.  And just when you’re thinking I’m the rocker chick, I’ll turn around with Alicia Keys, Mariah Carey and Tracy Chapman.  In many ways this category is the Forrest Gump cliché:  you never know what you’re gonna get. 

There are more categories I can go into, but for the sake of brevity I’ll cut it off with the above categories. Maybe in a future blog I’ll revisit the other categories.  This is what makes karaoke interesting. These characters are fun and interesting to watch. They’re a fascinating species.  And the dialog that comes from them will boggle your mind. You will hear things like:

 “I don’t take requests”

“That song doesn’t challenge me enough”

“What do these people want from me?”

 “That’s MY song, why is that person singing MY song?”

“They lyrics are wrong, can you fix that?”

 I swear sometimes a whole sitcom could be built around the karaoke life.  To Natalie: get on that!

Uninspired Catty Behavior

Today’s Attire: Black tiered ruffle dress with flower detail at the neck, that I’m wearing as a top instead of a dress (White House Black Market) black knee length walking shorts (Ashley Stewart $14) leopard print gold toe flat shoes (DSW $18).

Today’s Theme, Uninspired:

Yesterday when I woke up I was filled with creative energy. I couldn’t wait to get up and write my blog and share my thoughts with the world.  Today, not so much. And I guess that’s reflected in my outfit.  How original, all black. Oh wait, there’s a pop of color in the shoe and, wait, the hair.   That’s never been done before….um yeah.

I know it’s only day 3 of this blog. I was hoping to keep the creative momentum going through out the week. But on this kinda overcast Wednesday morning, I’m not feeling it.

Bitchy Encounters of the Model Kind:

I’m beginning to notice that I have a tendency to piss people off, on a regular basis. And even though I have a lot of amazing friends, I’m not liked by a lot people for one reason or another. In my life I’ve made a lot of people angry. Again that’s life, I’m not alone in this.  But I’m beginning to notice that women who don’t know me at all really resent me.  This is why I’m perplexed by this. I’m not threatening in any way to any of these strangers.  I’m not exaggerating. I’m sure you’re thinking, Vivian, you must have done something.  No I haven’t.

Let me give you the example of what happened to me last week.  Last Monday I was at the Brass Monkey, my favorite karaoke bar of choice. I haven’t been there in awhile because I was pretty ill for 2 months and had surgery and was recovering from that. But anyone who knows me, knows that I’m a regular there. I was hanging with my best friend David.  Watching people as they sang. Clapped and cheered appropriately when they sang. Even if they were awful, I still applauded. I feel compelled to cheer for people at karaoke because they were brave enough to get up there. I wasn’t singing particularly well that day. I was doing alright. I wasn’t performing up to my standards. But I was there to have a good time, and work on getting my voice back to where it once was.

There were several other women there that I didn’t know, who sat at the bar. Apparently one has been coming regularly during the time I wasn’t there. Some of them were singing songs or genre that I normally sing. I still cheered and clapped, even though inside I was missing my ability to really shine on some of those songs.  You couldn’t tell this was going on outside. I do my best not reflect that. Here’s the weird thing, whenever these women would look in my direction they gave me dirty looks. What’s that about?  The women were attractive, one was an over 6 foot tall rail thin model.  I’m the opposite of that. I’m short. I’m on the heavy side of things. I rarely wear makeup. And I’m not all that noticeable, with the exception of the blue hair. If you didn’t know me or weren’t introduced to me, you wouldn’t give a second glance. That particular night I felt like fading into the background unless I’m singing. I was sitting in the corner booth and only got up to sing, go to the restroom and occasionally cheer someone on and then went back to the corner. Staying out of the way and let everyone else have the spotlight.

At one point I get up to go to the bathroom. When I came out the model girl was out near the sink area.  I complimented her on her last song. She said “Thanks, your song was just OK.” WTF? In my mind I was like “wow she actually said that. I never would say something like that to anyone even if they did suck. She proceeded with “It’s the only Adele song I know all the words to, and you only did OK with it”. I did my best to maintain composure and said “I really like that song and I just wanted to try it because I really like the lyrics. It was the first time trying it.” She looked like she could care less. I was actually trying to be pleasant while washing my hands. I then asked her what song she was singing next. She replied “I’m only singing requests from friends” And I was like OK.  “She told me she was doing a Mariah Carey song that I didn’t know by tittle” I said “that’s awesome. Looking forward to it” and left the bathroom immediately. 

In my mind, I’m like why was she so hostile to me? I complimented her, and she basically rude to me, as if my singing was kind of offensive. That’s OK to think, but you don’t have to be rude about it and say it. I admit I wasn’t sounding great, you can’t sound decent all the time. I wasn’t auditioning for American Idol or a record deal. It’s karaoke. Sometimes you’re not going to sound great. I still remained pleasant and smiled at her and the other women who for one reason or another I somehow offended.  For the rest of the night I watched their reactions to me as I walked by or interacted with anyone. You could tell by their actions and all the non-verbal communication they really resented me for whatever reason.

By the end of the night I got annoyed about it. What vibe am I giving off for that kind of reaction from other women? I was there alone without my husband. I wasn’t being flirty to any eligible bachelors.  I sat in the corner with my friends. I wasn’t wearing anything slutty. I was just enjoying the scene and staying out of the way. Yet these women acted like I came there wearing the sluttiest dress I could find, flirted wildly with every man there, made a big spectacle of myself and took all the attention away from them and made out with their man in front of them.  Why? When I asked my guy friends about this, their comment was “Women are just bitchy toward each other. Get over it no one understands why”. When I mentioned it to my vocal coach she said “As time goes on you will encounter more people like that.  You’re on the rise. And people can see that in you. It’s sad, but people want everyone else to be miserable.” After that conversation I decided, the model needed a sandwich and I looked like I had one too many and she was jealous.