Come on feel the noise

It was brought to my attention a couple of days ago that I am not posting regularly enough to satisfy you - The Devoted Reader. It is bitterly ironic that the more blog-able activity happening in my life the less time I have to actually blog about it. Quite the paradoxical twist of fate that teases me so. Trust that I will endeavor outwit Irony. But know that my wit is fairly stunted.

Meanwhile. Our last minute Super Bowl party morphed into a Rock Band party.
Around halftime (sorry Mr. Petty) we all crammed into the tiny Bonus Room and held an ol' fashioned jam session. The thing I really like about Rock Band is that if guitar ain't your thang, then how 'bout drums? Or vocals? And it's like you're really in this gig together. When the audience gets all "BOOOO!!!! We want better guitar!! BOOOOOO! You're awful!!!" and the guitarist is booted off the stage, then the bandmates don't get all "you suck! you're embarrassing us! why don't you go home already??", causing the guitarist to cry and lock themselves in their hotel room and shoot enough heroin to cripple a horse. No...they use their ENERGY and become your savior! It's real teamwork.

So, yeah. I like it. Problem is that I have these OCD tendencies that make it difficult for me to stop playing the game. If I get an 82% then I know I can do better if I just try it again! And if I get a 95%, then maybe I can be perfect next time! Then I get 99% so maybe I should go to the next difficulty level! And then the next thing I know it's 1 am and I have to get up for stupid CPR class in 6 hours.

Another problem is that my voice is something akin to listening to the feral cats partying with raccoons in the neighborhood. See, when I'm driving in the car and singing my heart out, I can turn the speakers up loud enough to drown my voice out. Nevermind the strange looks I get from others. I sound decent when I can't hear myself. But when singing in my living room with the button guitar and color-coded drumset, I can hear myself more than I can hear the real singer.

And people, it isn't pretty. So when the neighbors start complaining about all the stray cats congregating near our house, you'll know why.


Jamie said...

I'm a wretched and horrible singer, but I still loved doing the singing part. You all were very sweet to let me do the vocals!

Anonymous said...

What? No mention of your sister's 7hour trip with her 2 young children all by herself to visit you! I'm sincerely hurt by our apparent un-blogability.

Bubble Girl said...

Just trying to give that trip it's due...it's coming. Fine art takes time. Patience, dear sis.