Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug.

So in a rotten mood yesterday afternoon, and I made a few homemade cocktails to cheer me up. Unfortunately, the liquor selection at my Mom's house is less than it could be, so I was drinking raspberry vodka with apple juice. To quote Denise, "Kim that's not even ghetto. That is trailer park. You needed to be drinking that in your double-wide."

On Sunday night, Denise and I went to Westminster, where I practiced organ. The organ and I didn't really get along well. After that we went to a surprisingly full underground bar in downtown Westminster (I don't mean "underground" as in "underground hip-hop" or "underground scene", I mean you had to walk down steps to get to it). We stumbled upon a truly strange karaoke night. There was a guy named Buttons (?) who sang "What a Wonderful World". He supposedly sang in the style of Louis Armstrong, but it sounded more like he had a serious respiratory disorder. There was also a huge man introduced as "Lucifer" who sang the country ballad "I Could Love You Like That". My version of "Seven-Year Ache" wasn't exactly a showstopper, but afterward I got hit on by probably the best-looking guy there (that's not saying a lot for this crowd, but hey, I'll take it!), so I counted it as a success.

Hey, sometimes you're in demand, sometimes you're not. I'm starting to get some perspective here.