Last night I dreamt I auditioned for American Idol.
I don't know. Just bear with me.
So there I was sitting in a big ass holding room along with all the other hopefuls at some hotel. I can't say for sure but it might have been the La Quinta in Secaucus, New Jersey. But don't quote me on that.
Then, suddenly, I was whisked into a smaller room where I was told by a production person that I was going on in a few minutes.
There were about four people ahead of me waiting to perform, Kenny Rogers and Paula Abdul among them. Like, Paula actually had to audition to be a judge and stuff. FYI, she and Kenny both got cut and Kenny looked positively devastated. I don't remember what happened to Paula. I was too transfixed by Kenny's sad face.
As I sat waiting for my turn, I tried to figure out what song I would sing... 'cause I'm well-prepared like that. I considered singing "Happy Birthday" because, apparently, my subconscious thought that timeless tune would really wow the judges. I suppose I would have had a big finish with an elongated and dramatic "to yoooooooooooooooooooouUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" at the end.
Other options I considered: "If You're Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Hands" and that song that goes "Down down baby, down by the roller coaster."
Because I'm five.
Anyhoo, I was led into the room and there sat Randy and Simon Cowell... right next to the hotel reception desk. I voiced my concern about having to sing over the din of people checking in and out but I was ignored. And then I asked where I should stand because there was no "X" on the floor marking the spot. Simon got all sorts of bitchy with me and threatened to throw me out and then he made me stand in an area where there were a ton of hanging plants which were swinging back and forth in a most precarious fashion. Naturally, I totally whacked my head on a terra cotta planter. That shit hurt. He was a real dick about things, that Simon.
And then it was time to get down to business. Randy asked if I was ready and I responded in the affirmative and let fly with a deep-yet-nasally version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." I don't remember making that decision to change up the song but in retrospect, that was quite the daring impromptu move. Go me.
Granted, I mangled the words at times but neither Randy nor Simon cut me off so I really started getting into it. I actually believed that I was quite possibly going to Hollywood.
I finished up my number and waited to hear my fate. I don't remember what Randy said because, well, he's Randy and I never pay attention to him. But I'm sure he used the terms "pitchy" and "dawg." Just a hunch.
And then Simon said, "I quite liked your lower register but no. Sorry." And then he put his arm around me and walked me to the door. That was nice of Simon, I guess.
What does it all mean? I have no idea. However, my voice today is a bit hoarse and ragged which leads me to believe that I actually sang a deep-yet-nasally version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" in my sleep.
Thank God I don't have a roommate.
