raybear | Extension, Shift, Collection.

As if I don't prance around the apartment like a fag enough, tonight I'm practicing my tango step. I just got back from our first lesson and we decided we're not doing anymore of that partner switching. We came to learn to dance with each other. Plus it might be our only hour a week to see each other for awhile. There's also a horrifyingly embarassing straight white guy, in that way that only straight white guys seem to be when they're that stuck in the place of too little confidence and self-esteem but too much belief that they are funny and have social skills.

But let's not focus on the negative. The class was great. Our instructors are both hot --she more than he. Well, actually I'd say based on sheer physical attractiveness, I'd take him, but when their personalities and style are brought in, she wins hands down. They look amazing when they dance together. I like their method of teaching, which focuses more on the energy and philosophy in addition to how to point your toe. Hopefully each week will only get better.

I really came to my journal to write about last night's adventures in karaoke.

CAST OF CHARACTERS (in no particular order):

drinkasyourpour,

freakysparks,

foxycoxy,

herfierceness, BreadLoaf, Frenchie, Moos, BrownEyedGirl, with "also starring" roles going to

nonbinary,

regstacks,

vimandvigor, LoveDoctor, Mojo,

louche, DrummerGrrl, and others. I will be shortening most all of the nicknames in the storytelling

My evening started off with a delicious dinner made lovingly by

drinkasyoupour along with a chance to catch up and chat, then we walked over to Early to Bed.

Most all of us started at The Finger to see BreadLoaf read, and then we managed to maintain the momentum over to StarGaze in Andersonville with promises of cheap liquor, rugby dykes, a kitchen, and my ass on stage going crazy at karaoke. We get there and Reg and Non broke the horrifying news -- karaoke was closing down. It was approaching 11 o'clock. I was heartbroken. Frenchie made me a microphone out of paper so I could sing to the jukebox, but I just couldn't settle. Even though I knew we'd lose several folks if we moved the party, with the help of Coxy, we decided to head over to Hidden Cove. Several key people didn't transfer over to the new location and they were definitely missed, but I was still pleasantly surprised at how many made it. When Drink, Fierce, Coxy and I showed up first, there were maybe six people at the bar, including the bartender. Our group took over three times that -- eventually other people started showing up, and for a bar that supposedly closes at 2 am, lots of people were coming in. And by "lots" I mean two dozen. This place is not packed. But when it comes to karaoke, this can be good if you have people wanting to do lots of songs, which we did. I love this place -- as Coxy pointed out, the sign has flashing palm trees! It's a gorgous dive, on Lincoln Ave, just north of Foster Ave.

I was the first singer from our group. John Lennon's Jealous Guy. I was nervous, in part because I picked a song that required a bit more singing skill, but I kept drinking caffine and inhaling nicotine so I wouldn't lose my buzz. To be honest, I barely remember my singing. I think it was pretty good. I mean, karaoke good.

See, the first time I did karaoke (which was only like a year and a half ago with Melro and

vfc), I was so nervous about being bad, I held back and was timid and ended up being boring. Which is the equivalent of bad in karaoke terms. For karaoke, it's all about energy and performance, not pitch and tune. It should either be shockingly good singing, shockingly bad singing, or something inbetween with good hand motions and facial expressions. I think last night, my inner rockstar definitely made an appearance. And he'll be back.

Other people rocked out, including Moos doing "Strokin'", Fierce & Drink doing "Fat Bottomed Girls", Coxy doing "Cant Smile without You". Then I pulled Breadloaf on stage, made him sit in a chair, and I dedicated and sang to him "Don't Pull Your Love". I knew all the words and barely had to glance at the screen, which was good because I had choreography. Hell if I remember it, other than at one point being on my knees, holding my head in my hands and belting the chorus in to the mike. On. Fire. I'm serious, there was a piece of energy that got released that had been storing up for a long time while belting out that song. Arterwards I had so much adrenaline I could barely sit down. I think it was my utter loss of abandon. I know my singing isn't painful, I'm just not sure it's always pleasant -- but I had spunk, dammnit.

So many other great moments: Breadloaf singing "Do That To Me One More Time", LoveDoctor singing to drunken creepy straight guy in a fur hat "On the Wings of Love" with her I-Can-Grope-You-But-Get-Your-Hands-Off-ME moves I was loving. Honey Maker popped in and did an unexpected astounding version of "Jolene", one of two times I was really wishing Mint was there. The second being when Fierce and I did "9 to 5" but the monitor didn't work so we sang the same song lyrics over and over again. OH! And the great group act of Grease's Summer Nights where Breadloaf, Sparky and I sang the boys, Fierce, Moos, and Coxy sang the girls. We had great moves for that too. Frenchie and I did this great interpretive piece while singing along to Elton John's Tiny Dancer at the table. I had no idea who or how the actual karaoke-er did, as we were so into our own singing and mirrored movements.

At one point the song Brown Eyed Girl started, a solid karaoke choice, and no one went up on stage. So I went. I grabbed the mic just before the intro finished, and then the real owner of the song came up. But she asked me to stay, so we did a duet and I made a new friend.

Fierce and I formed a temporary monogamous relationship last night at the bar when creepy BadTeethScragglyVanDykeBeard bought her a drink. She took me over and introduced me as her boyfriend. He stood up, put his hands on both of our backs and asked what we're into. Without missing a beat, Fierce said, "Each other." I can't believe I never laughed, especially when the guy's friend said something about he didn't mean any disrespect, he's a great guy and how if he was gay, he'd take him. Creepy guy pushed him off in that grossed-out homophobic manner, then turned to us and said "I'm NOT gay.....I'm bisexual." I had to have laughed. There's no way in hell I could have held a straight face, is there? They kept apologizing to me profusely me, as if I would somehow kick their asses for buying my "girlfriend" a drink. I didn't even know how to act mad, it was so foreign to me. I mean, hell, even if we were together in a monogamous relationship, she did get a free drink.

By 2:45 am the karaoke list was long with the new group of bar folks, so most of us headed out. I gave Frenchie a ride home and really enjoyed our conversation, almost looking to continue it and prolong the goodbye, but I had guilt about Sophie being stuck in the crate and needing a bathroom break.

So that was Sunday night.

I don't really remember today, other than some intense depression brought on by sleep deprivation and coming down from last night's high of adventure. I pushed myself to get schoolwork done anyway, which made me a complete wreck. But after a couple of short naps, a bath, some food, some playing of The Sims, and the excitement of tango class, I was back to being me again. And still am. Now I'm just wanting to wait up until

dommeyourass gets home from rehearsal so I can see her a for a few minutes before falling asleep.