Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Something with soul

My large, puffy, red thing that is traditionally called a coat is exceedingly warm.

I was standing inside the building, after finishing my mid-term, talking to another girl from my class. I was all bundled up, ready to go outside, when I ran into her. We talked for awhile, mainly about the exam and then about German theatre. She offered me a ride home in her fancy yellow car, so we were talking in the stairwell, waiting for her boyfriend to finish the exam, so we could all drive home.

Anyway, as I was talking to her, I could feel my legs start to tingle. Now, I don't know if you've ever experienced this, but it sure felt very strange. I wonder if this meant that my legs were overheating. That's what it felt like. My body was getting hot at an extremely quick pace, and I wondered how on earth my red puffy coat could actually be that warm.

I suddenly started to feel quite uncomfortable. I had to go outside. The mostlogical move would have been to take off my coat and hat, but my large back pack was weighing me down, layers seemed to be just piled on top of me, and I figured the damage was already done, anyway. I had to step outside.
So, I had to cut the conversation with the girl short, just because of my red Mr. Puffy. I held my breath, ran to the door, and breathed out in relief as I encountered the chilly night air.

There were very few people in my line of sight. I could see a girl through a window in the building next to the bus stop. I saw two guys in the distance on the sidewalk. But other than those few, there was no one around. I smiled; I could let it rip.

You see, I enjoy singing and singing outside is always the best because you can go as loud and as quiet as you want and learn to tune your voice and to try different pitches. You can let your voice crack, you can try singing with a growly voice or very operatic, and you can let your voice swim and glide.
That is, of course, if there is no one in your immediate area. If you do not care as to what people will think of a singing lunatic, then feel free to do it at your next dinner party or the next time you pump your gas.

So, I started singing, apprehensively at first. I kept whipping my head around, making sure no new people were emerging from the buildings. No one was. I sang louder. I tried singing in a raspier voice. I tried singing high, low; I tried mimicking a good singer from the choir. I was in the middle of a song when I saw a girl about to come out of the doors I had come from. I immediately stopped singing and suppressed my voice to a melodic hum. She came out of the building, I watching her surreptitiously, waiting for her to disappear into another building or quickly scamper off, so I could comfortably resume my singing.

She stepped into a car. Ah, there.

There was no holding me back now!

Listen baby
Ain't no mountain high
Ain't no valley low
Ain't no river wide enough, baby

If you need me call me
no matter where you are,
no matter how far (don't worry baby)
just call out my name.
I'll be there in a hurry
You don't need to worry

'Cause baby there
Ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough
Ain't no river wide enough
To keep me from getting to you, babe.

2 comments:

andrea said...

hahah i know exactly what you mean about the singing, whenever I'm standing alone in the bus shelter waiting for the 95 i sing amazing grace...and then shut up really quick as soon as anyone else comes.

Zaza said...

I just realized that that song has double negatives in it. Pretty fitting, I must say.