Tuesday, December 14, 2004

You're louder than you think you are.
Some people really like to sing. They sing all the time. Their families and friends tell them to stop. They try. They really do. But sometimes, it just happens unconsciously.

Keep in mind that when they finally get it in tune, they have to do it a few more times, to make sure it wasn't a fluke. Keep in mind that they really aren't trying to be loud. They're just making sure their sound quality is up to where they think it should be.

Be nice to these people. They really are trying.

They really should have support groups for us. Because Lord knows we can't stop on our own.

Every so often, my sister will tell me that she could hear me on the bus. Well, this doesn't concern me very much. I ignore her. (Hi Tea!)

Today, I was having a good morning. (I was feeling crappy, so I couldn't hear well, and this may have had some impact on this as well. Also, sometimes, feeling crappy just makes everything funnier.) I had a random Union Station need, so I popped an Alison Krauss disc in my player and immediately got into that wonderful bluegrass mindset.

See, the thing about Alison Krauss is, I can sing through the whole CD. I get reflective after about half of a CD of Celtic music or Simon and Garfunkel, I get distracted during the Corrs or Vanessa Carlton, and I get sad after "Haunted" on Evanescence. So I don't sing toward the end. But Union Station, I go the whole way.

Well, since I was sickish, I couldn't hear myself beyond how grandly in tune I was. Volume I had no concept of.

Usually, there are strict rules about where you sit in the morning. You always go to the same place. Today, however, a kid in my grade and his sister sat in front of me instead of the usual kid I don't know.

Well, his sister kept kind of turning like she really wanted to tell me how loud I was. Her brother caught on, and she kinda gave him this look like, Will she kill me if I tell her to be quiet? Well, he kinda knows I'm just odd and wouldn't listen anyway, and kinda told her it's not worth it.

Meanwhile, I got a kick out of this, and, being not awake and feeling crappy, got louder everytime she did it.

And for me, it was funny.

At the end of the bus ride, she tapped me on the shoulder and said, "You're louder than you think you are."

And this, at the time, was hysterically funny.

Now? I'm tired enough, it's starting to seem funny again. Especially since I have the art of pretending I'm listening to something hard and loud enough I can't hear people down and employed all the way home from school, when I had to dodge the seventh grade detention kids who just had to know what instrument I had.

Thanks, DeruDragonsong (sp?), but somehow, I think waving my arms might count as enthusiasm that detracts from the tone of teh scene ... seeing as how it opens with the line, "It must be by his death ..."

Though I'm sure that in a Monty Python sketch, that could be a hilarious arm-waving moment ...
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