Well, you've screwed me again, Costanza!

I sometimes have a little problem knowing when to say 'when'. Not with drinks so much now that I'm a mom who doesn't go out all that often, though I will occasionally willfully disregard my own rule of 3 when it comes to the wine. My rule of three is simple: 3 glasses of wine = awesome, 4 glasses of wine = horribly hung over. Words to live by, when you enjoy the red as much as yours truly.

Anyway, this weekend I went a little overboard with Rock Band 2. My family and I love playing that stupid game, and as with everything else we do for fun, we fully commit. Or should be committed, but whatever. Suffice to say that we find ourselves really belting shit out and rocking out. On Friday night I went out with my good buddy Mala, and while I was out BS and the hubster played a little two-some gig without me. Apparently they got into it (side note: Big Son's RB character is a scrawny punk guy with a huuuuuuuge red mohawk... and assless chaps. Yes, my darling son designed it all himself), and DH was doing his best Roger Daltry moves by swinging the microphone around and catching it between verses. BSwas also doing his classic shirtless mic-swinging maneuver, too.

Suffice to say, they broke the mic. We went to play Saturday morning and found that it was crackling and then stopped working entirely. So, it was off to Best Buy for us, where I watched a teenage clerk do a worse internet search of their inventory than I had done on my own at home, before venturing off to their shelves to find the damn thing myself. I found a 2-pack of mics (for duets!) that fit the bill, and we went on our merry way.

We didn't get home till after 9, but we let the big guy stay up a little to try out the new mics. They're awesome! They're actually way better than the ones RB came with. You can hear the vocals much better and they do that cool amplifying trick when you hit the bonus sections. Wicked freakin' cool.

So cool that hubby and I ended up staying up till 1 AM playing the stupid game. I am a terrible singer - I always say that what I lack in skill, I make up for in enthusiasm. But with the new mics, I didn't sound half bad! It's like Britney Spears voice modulation equipment in our living room! We unlocked some new tunes, so I was belting out Bob Dylan and Kansas for all I was worth.
SUPASTAR!


The next day, I was a little hoarse. No biggie; I tend to get hoarse after talking a lot or after a big night out. I should have just rested the ol' vocal chords, eh? This is where my little problem of knowing when to stop comes in.

We had some friends over. They had only played RB once before with some other friends who had made them feel like crap because they weren't good at it (nice). So, we put the game in "no fail" mode and taught them how to play, and we had such a great time that before I knew it I was singing again. A lot. I also ventured into drum territory for the first time, and I have to say, I wasn't half bad! What do you know? I've been so intimidated by the drums for so long that I was shocked to find I was scoring in the 90s on my first attempt (on easy mode, but still)! Also, I got a blister. "I've got blisters on my fingahs!"

The consequence: I have no voice today. At all. I open my mouth to speak and a squeek comes out. It's pathetic and annoying and I'm really embarrassed that I did this to myself, especially since I have to WORK today and guess what 80% of my job is? Yes, talking on the phone.

I guess CAJ is going to have to earn her paycheck today, because I've forwarded all my calls to her. Muuuaaahahahaha! My work story is "laryngitis." But you all know the truth; it's "Rockstaritis."