My apologies, gentle readers, for my tiny absence over the past week and a half. Also forgive me for not explaining it. I like to keep this little chronicle happy and upbeat (personal blogs full of whining, ranting, complaining and sadness bore me), so all I'll say is that is was a circle of life issue. Nothing for you to worry about, my friends, and I'm back now. There is no getting rid of me permanently.
Even though I've been doing my vocal exercises lately, my singing was a little rusty last night. Except on one song. The song about which I was the most worried, and, as a consequence, I practiced the most. Every year, we in Sober Nixon, trot out one Christmas song: "White Christmas," and we use the Phil Spector arrangement that Darlene Love sang on Phil's 1963 Christmas album (pictured above). Now, make no mistake: I cannot sing like Darlene Love. However, I can sing like me, and with enough practice and awareness of supporting my breath, I can belt out a tune with the best of them. Belt I did last night, and I would say our rendition of "White Christmas" as arranged by Phil Spector may have been the best number of the night.
Assuming I wasn't hideously off key or anything. No one cringed, and no glass shattered, though, so I think I was okay.
Today I did a little lounging and a few chores, picked up three new books that I ordered from Amazon and got some exercise. So now I'm ready for the socializing portion of our Saturday. I'm going to swing by my friend Zeeshan's birthday party before going to see the Loved Ones. Tomorrow I'll be doing some more singing (this time karaoke) and then cocktailing with my friend Christine and my sister, who is coming up from Los Angeles for a visit. All of this is in advance of my own birthday party on Tuesday, when I'll celebrate being fabulous despite being old.
Socializing waits for no man.. or woman... however, so I've got to get to it now. If I wait too long to leave the house, I risk getting sucked into the couch for the evening.