We fit right

I'm a performer. It's true. Whether or not I actually perform, you know, on stage is another story, but, let me tell you, my mirror gets quite a show sometimes. Especially when no one else is home and I can sing at the top of my lungs and dance and jump around my room. When no one is watching, when no one can hear - those are the times I put on my best, top-notch performances.

Yesterday, I had the chance for about an hour or so to sing with no one around to hear and, suddenly, my voice came out strong. I don't get this opportunity all that often and, when people are around, I'm too self-conscious and nervous that I sound like a completely broken record, all screechy like or something, so I don't give it my all. Ever. But when I'm alone, boy do I. And, anyway, boy did I yesterday. This newfound strong voice excited me. "Oh, hooray!" I declared (in my mind), "I can sing! I can sing!" So, I decided to record myself as evidence of the fact. I recorded myself on my phone singing "Reflection" (from Mulan) and "The Wizard and I" (from Wicked). I still have them on my phone, too. I'll probably end up deleting them at some point but...I sound like I'm ten. I'm not even joking. I mean, when I was doing The Wizard and I, it was like ten year old Elphaba was twirling around her room singing, not college-age Elphaba! Why!? Why do I sound so young!? It made me sad :(

But it did not make me give up my love of singing! I will sing in front of my mirror until the end of time! And dance! And act! And lip-sync! And all three at once! Ah, my most faithful mirror, you are such a good audience. =D

And the song I would like next to memorize and perform for my mirror is the one whose lyrics are pasted below. It's called "We Fit Right" by Deirdre Flint and it was played for my English Lit. class last year by Dr. Schwebel when she was teaching us various forms and parodies of love poetry. It's a great song. Try to see if you can find somewhere to listen to it. If not, you can go here, but you'll have to register. It's free, takes literally two seconds, but I have no idea if you'll get any spam mail or not because of it. But if you do, I'm sorry! *hides* Oh, also, it's a female singing so if any male bloggers reading this do not want to listen to it because of that then, er, just read the lyrics! They're fun!

We Fit Right
Let's make this real clear, let's not get ideas
'bout seeing you and me as a permanent plan
We bicker, we fight we argue all night and
I don't think a future bodes well with that
You constantly complain I bring on your migraines
You in turn spawn mine
I annoy you so much that you froth at the mouth
And I don't think that's a good sign, oh no it's like a. . .
Psycho diner waitress on a blind date with a New York tipper
Narcoleptic hand model learning how to use a chipper
Jesse Helmes in Frisco, Mormons at a disco ladies night
Caught with an Amway salesman in a broken elevator
Baby back ribs on a cheese bun served up at a Seder
We're oil and water, though sometimes I'll concur
We fit right.
Your voice is annoying your manner is cloying,
Every thought process starts with I, me, mine.
You say that I'm anal, conversantly banal
I think the same of you but man, you sure look fine
As for common interests, there's nothing we've got
I'm well bred and you're well, not
My deepest conversation with you
Was when you were unconscious in the ICU, but it's usually like. . .
A dozen lonely belly dancers stranded at a monastery
Lactose intolerant Hindu working at a dairy
Chile without Bean-o, Carmelites in Reno Friday night
Acrophobic Hydrophobes trekkin to Niagara Falls
Ex-klepto self help groups with meetings held in shopping malls
We're oil and water, though sometimes I'll concur
Oh, we fit right
But oh lord, I'm lost when you open your arms and you beckon me in - its
Amazing how you make me forget all our differences for at least 12 minutes
But it's usually like
Woodshop workshops at a halfway house for hemophiliacs
Belevue kitchen worker with just a touch of anthrax
Pyromaniac firefighters heading up a defilade
Jim Jones trading card in every can of cherry Kool-Aid
We're oil and water, though sometimes, I'll concur . . .
Oh, we fit right.