There has been much talk in this house of me following in Dean-o’s footsteps and recording an album but we’ve never gotten around to it, mainly because we’re lazy. It always seems that something comes up and then there just isn’t time to go through the annoying task of choosing covers, writing new songs, learning them, recording them and producing them.
And then I bitch because I haven’t done it yet.
I’ve written songs with Dean before for him to do, but we’ve never really written any originals for me. Typically, when Dean and I are making music, he does the music aspect and I do the lyrics but I don’t feel like having any part of this endeavor and so I’ve requested him to write me something on his own. It will be a challenge and he seems pretty interested in taking risks with it…lol. We shall see.
The one big thing I wish to do with this album is to do a song for each of my kids and Dean. I have certain songs that I attribute with each of them, songs I sang them to sleep with at night, or songs that they have heard and fallen in love with. It’ll be fun.
When I get to doin’ it.
I have the itch really bad these days. A lot of it has to do with the fact that I’m not pregnant anymore. I’m weird. I cannot sing on a full tummy and being pregnant certainly gives you one. It’s hard to control your breath with a baby squishing your lungs into two, little, pancakes.
My other big issue is Dean, who is never allowed at recordings because he makes me too nervous. I can sing for hundreds of people so long as he is not one of them. This baffles him but it’s just the way it is. He has been to witness a number of performances, but I’ve always had to have my best friend, Shannon with me as she is my biggest fan and totally goes insane when I sing, where as Dean is just too nonchalant about it.
My issues with Dean are the fact that he has been vocally trained for most of his life and studied Opera in college. He has sang for thousands of people at Carnegie Hall and he intimidates me because he has studied with women far better than me.
Also, he is not one to dish out compliments very easily and is extremely technical about them when he does squeeze one out. Dean’s biggest compliment to me was this:
“Babe, you are a vocal coach’s dream. You are never sharp and never flat and you have zero bad habits that need breaking. Most people who study voice spend the first year just being taught how to breath and with the teacher trying to break all of their bad habits. You don’t have any of those.”
Okay… not exactly what I am going for. I’d rather make him cry or move or impress him in such a way that he is speechless.
I highly doubt it will ever happen.
As a result, I can’t sing around him. It sucks.
Plus, he insults me without meaning to. I’ll ask him what a good song for me to cover would be and he’ll reply, “Something by Norah Jones or Jewel.”
Norah Jones and Jewel are two of the easiest people’s songs to sing. I like a challenge, which neither of them are by a long shot. I am insulted that Dean sees those as my biggest capabilities. Really insulted. He may as well have asked me to sing something by Green Day.
This is why Shannon is awesome. She will sit on the edge of her seat listening to every word and freak the fuck out afterwards. It keeps me on the fucking stage.
I have made Dean proud one time that I can remember and I don’t think he was proud until I started getting a lot of praise from strangers. This one night, I had been singing at this bar called Rock a Billy’s and I think I had just gotten done singing some Whitney Houston shit or something when a bunch of people came up to me raving about my performance. Dean was there and he put his arm across my shoulder and smiled appreciatively while I blushed and stared at my feet. I so hated receiving compliments with Dean around as I always assume he is standing there thinking, ‘God, these people are nuts. She was off key for the entire song! But as they don’t have a clue what good singing sounds like, they’re going to stand here and drool on her.”
He says he is never thinking that, but I know better. He is the only person I want to impress and not technically…. emotionally. I want him to stop dead in his tracks and say, “Holy shit, Kyra… that was fucking amazing!” I want him to act interested instead of just pleased when I hit a high note that I claimed was impossible.
He will be insulted as he reads this as he adamantly states (when provoked) that I do impress him. But, please. If I did, he wouldn’t need provocation, the fucker. So, I have decided while writing this that I don’t like him anymore. As much gloating as I do over him and as many blog posts where I sit and drool over his ass, I have to annoy him into reciprocating.
Seriously. This is a conversation that we have had about a hundred times since I gave birth. It is me demanding that he rave about me.
Me: So, I’m the shit, huh? When ya gonna brag to everyone about how awesome I am?
He: You are the shit.
Me: Well, yeah… I know you are aware if this but you are supposed to be making everyone else aware of it, too. I want some braggage.
He: Um… okay. What do you mean?
Me: I mean get your ass on that computer and write a big, fuckin’ blog post about how amazing I am. You don’t even leave me comments anymore and people are starting to think that you don’t like me.
He: Of course, I like you… I love you!
Me: Yeah? Then tell everyone. And make it good, too. I wanna see some seriously amazing literary ass kissing, here. I’m talkin’ -my wife is the greatest woman on the earth- shit. Make my female friends cry and my guy friends jealous as hell of you. Brag, bitch!
He: Okay, okay…. I’ll brag.
After the 80th conversation just like this, I succeeded in getting him to leave a number of comments one day. He has yet to commence to bragging about my extraordinary greatness. And, to him I have this to say:
Dean, you suck. I don’t like you anymore. I’m not writing anymore blog posts about you that are complimentary. You can lick my crack, fucker.