August 12, 2002

Today is the day to kill 'em with kindness.

I lost my voice this weekend, screaming obnoxious sayings at fireworks at a White Sox game. It wasn't my fault; it was fireworks night and they decided to play really dumb music after the game, like the Corrs and Enrique Iglesias, so my friends and I decidede to behave like 12-year-olds and yell things like "I love America!" and pretend to sob when Enya came on.

I knew a girl in high school who would get very upset when she lost her voice, and would cry. The frustration of losing communication can be very annoying, for sure. But I sort of like it; not having to hold up a conversation (although I didn't lose it so bad this weekend that I didn't try valiantly.)

I also like how at once you can and can't control your voice. You're not sure when it's going to crack but you can pretty much bet on it sometimes so you can use that odd squeal to an advantage every once in a while. Especially if, say, you're expressing incredulation or delight.

My favorite part is the singing, though--anytime I sound like Marge Simspson is all right with me.