How many people have dreamed of being on a show like American Idol, The Voice, or America’s Got Talent? Millions have. These hopeful visionaries will sleep on the street while in line with thousands of others all hoping to attain that same goal. You want to go, stand in front of those judges, do your best Mariah Carey, and blow everyone away! No one could doubt that you are a star. You are right up there with the greats. You know it; they know it. The only tiny problem is, you aren’t standing in front of Steven Tyler or Sharon Osbourn or even Adam Levine. You are at home, in your most worn out pajamas, singing in front of the mirror in your bedroom. And, it’s true, you do sound like Celine Dion (as long as your ear buds are in, music is full blast, and you are listening to “My Heart Will Go On”). But what your kids, roommate, spouse, etc hear is William Hung. I’m right there with you. I get in my car for a long drive home from work (not to work because that is my Kidd Kraddick hour), put on my iPod, and sing until I’m hoarse. I don’t care. My fellow travelers will stare, giggle, or make fun of my out of tune screeching, but all I hear is fabulous-ness! I am Christina Aguillera, Whitney Houston, and Mariah Carey. I am Rachel Berry and Santana! I am Michael Jackson and all four of The Beatles. I can go sky high doing runs all the way up, and my lows are smoky and sexy. Then I get home, turn off the music, and, magically, become me again. I secretly want someone to hear and think, “Wow, she’s great,” but I know that the only “Wow” I get is because I am singing so badly so loudly. But sing away, my dear superstars. Sing to your heart’s content! Be out of tune, be off key, be “pitchy,” be YOU! 
lorenblogging 