AI dreamin'

I should not be allowed to watch American Idol. You know how our digit cable now has "parental controls" so that our budding youth won't be able to watch Jersey Shore and develop dreams of hair gel and slutty behavior? Well I need a qualified adult to: (1) show me how to work my remote controller, and (2) put American Idol on my block list! It's not because I think I shouldn't be this thoroughly entertained by bad reality TV. It isn't because I'm afraid that Simon's inability to sympathize with others will begin to rub off on me (I kinda like Simon and the mean things he says to people). It's because it makes me believe that I too can be America's next idol! I too, can wow the judges with my beautiful rendition of Alicia Keys' "Fallin." The truth is, the judges would agree that my vocals are substandard. But given the chance, I would risk national humiliation just to hear them say it.
After this week's show on Tuesday I found myself singing the national anthem in the bathroom on my way into the shower. It's not as embarrassing as it sounds....I was nominated by my peers to sing the national anthem with the other nominees at graduation in May. Practice makes perfect! ...okay so it's really that embarrassing.
What is comes down to is, I really miss singing! The roots of it all go back to my beautiful mother. One of her many talents is being able to match pitch with whatever song happens to be on the radio. Her high school choir teacher told her to remember him when she was famous. I envied her voice growing up. As soon as I was old enough for words, I was singing right along with her, albeit off pitch. But I improved with many a car-rides' practice. We even got my brother sucked into our love for belting every song at the top of our lungs: his friends tease that he serenades them in the car. I love it! We were both in the Cashmere high choir the year we won Best in State. My senior year I was even the concert choir president (I know...snaps for me!).
Much to my dismay, I discovered early that I am no solo artist. I'm more of a blender...I can match someone else but can't seem to hold my own. Maybe it's nerves. But through all of that, I still have begotten dreams of seeing my name in lights! Of headlining a national tour!
Or rather, maybe it's just that I have dreams of being famous...not necessarily of being talented. I would not be one of the brooding artists who steers clear of mainstream. Who believes their music to be "art" (ahem...Kanye West). Who lose themselves in a project and come up for air wearing some hideous form of black. I would get huge sunglasses, a golden retriever, a yoga master, and a beautiful convertible. I would definitely call out my ex's on all their shit through the power of my lyrics (yay Taylor Swift!).
Truth? I shouldn't be trusted with fame. I'm too afraid I'd use my powers for evil and hire an assistant just to put my shoes on for me. Because, like duh. I'm Lindsey Jean Wehmeyer. I do not. slip. on. my. own. pumps. thank you very much. (hair flip)