It must be lovely to be able to sing. To belt out a tune without people looking distinctly uncomfortable and subtly covering their ears… I don’t think I’m the world’s worst singer. Not quite. But while I share her name, I’m certainly no Adele (I’d kick her arse on the dance floor, mind).
I really fancy being one of those people who can sing. So, I’m taking action. 2014 is the year of just doing stuff. Rather than just wishing I could sing, I’m going to learn. I haven’t a clue whether singing lessons will work or not, but dammit, March is now nominated as the month I’ll find out.
I’ve booked a taster singing lesson for this week (at The Vocal Academy) to kick off with. I’m led to believe that two to four lessons is about normal to stop me screeching like a cat in a washing machine, so I’m quietly optimistic that I might be crooning smoothly come the end of the month.
Of course this challenge has inherent character-building elements. It’s always a bit scary doing something you’re bad at. There’s a heightened chance of failure. It’s another comfort zone to bust out of. That’s what this year and this blog is about, though, isn’t it? Bring it on, I say! Let the caterwauling commence!