My love/hate relationship with Christmas Carols

I can't sing. Try as I might to blend in with background singers, even I hear the inappropriate twangs and pitches each time the music fades but I don't. When I was a wee little thing I would sing commercial jingles. From the Toys R Us mantra to Folgers' claim that they were the best part of waking up (FYI, there is no best part. Folgers is full of shit). I could call Empire Carpet in a pinch, and don't get me started on T.J. Maxx. They were my favorite by far. You can find their commercial from 1988 here. My mother applauded my efforts each time the commercial aired as I stood in front of the television as straight as I could, smoothed down my hot pink tutu and cleared my throat before belting out "DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO TJ MAXX!" all the while stomping my bare feet to some unknown rhythm. I have come to realize that she probably felt I would never again hear the sound of applause should I decide to take my voice public, so she did the best she could to make my 3 year old dreams come true.

I remember the day I realized I couldn't sing. I should say, I remember the day I was outright TOLD I couldn't sing. It was freshmen year of high school, as if that weren't an awkward enough time as is. I was riding in the back of my dad's Toyota with a friend who shall remain nameless. Green Day was playing on Q101 which my dad actually enjoyed listening to. (Mad props, Pops!) My very forward friend and I were just rounding out the second chorus of Basket Case when she turns to me and with all the seriousness she can muster spits out "Are you tone deaf?" I can only imagine what my face looked like. Some twisted combination  of "Did you really just say what I think you said?" and "...Am I?" I haven't sung out loud in public since that day. At least not sung while sober enough to remember doing so.

Thankfully, that interaction did not diminish my appreciation for all that is musical. In fact, it gave me cause to appreciate all that musicians have to offer. I have some friends that just blow my mind with their enigmatic voices. They know who they are. I have one friend that called me earlier this year and sang "Happy Birthday" to me on my voice mail. I didn't even know she could sing and there she was, soulful and sultry. Nobody has ever made the words "happy birthday to you" sound more honest and loving. Sadly, that voice mail was accidentally deleted by my giant thumbs and a touch screen gone bat-shit insane. I tried my best to sing "Happy Birthday" to myself after that. I even went so far as to record my efforts. Playing them back I quickly deleted the evidence and swore never to do that again.

Clearly Christmas poses quite the pickley pickle. Oh how I adore carols. My favorite, which I figured out recently, is The Winter Song by Eisley. I have tried so hard to master it, which I swear is damned near impossible. Once, I was driving home and singing along when I thought "Maybe if I keep singing and just turn down the music real quick, I'll trick myself and will somehow sound really, really good!" So, I did this. It sounded like angry Keebler elves were torturing Yorkies in my throat. Yikes.

The next best thing to actually being a great singer, is having a fantastic imagination. You don't know it, but almost weekly I dream about reluctantly walking on stage at a bar during open mic night. All of you are there, drinking your beers and ordering second rounds of breaded mushrooms. Suddenly, the spotlight hits me. I'm dressed in something awesome I borrowed from my best dream friend, Jennifer Aniston. Oh, I'm also a size 4. You, the crowd, hushes. It's almost palpable that something prodigious is about to occur. The music starts up, your lights dim, and I bust out with M.I.A.'s "Paper Planes", the likes of which you've never seen. I mean I am kicking ASS up there! You guys always love it by the way. I rocked your socks off.

I can't sing. I will probably never be able to sing. But if I turn my radio up loud enough, or dream often enough, I am awesome enough to sate my desires. My name is Marissa, and I can totally sing. Under the right  circumstances.

Seeing as it's evening while I'm writing this, I'm getting quite sleepy. I'm fairly certain I will be making an encore appearance at the dream bar tonight, as it is fresh in my mind. Any requests?