Listen, friends, to my tale of woe

This story, like so many in my life, ends in disappointment.

Saturday, as noted previously, was initiated with a prolonged wait in a line of hopeful singers. I was present within that under-caffeinated throng, and staggered away after many hours with a bracelet guaranteeing me a chance to be an American Idol.

Let me digress for a moment. Does anyone truly idolize a random stranger who happens to sing rather well? Don't get me wrong, some of these people appear to have some talent, and I believe talent deserves some respect when accompanied by hard work and initiative. But worship them? I dunno...

Anyway, Sunday night found me in the company of friends at a fine and festive feast of filling fantastic fare. Delightful. Afterward, we had retired en masse to the home of one of our party to imbibe an excellent bottle of wine, the name of said wine escaping me at the moment. At approximately 10ish, my cell phone rang. Who should it be but my parents, with the most unpleasant news. My niece, who was the primary driver in my participation of this contest (as well as being my one allowed entourage member for the following day), had suffered an eye injury. I'm still fuzzy on the exact mechanism of the injury, but she managed to inflict a minor corneal laceration. I really hate the idea of eye injuries; it makes me feel queasy and freaked out.

Long story short? My participation in American Idol came to an abrupt end. I didn't even get to meet Simon! I was hoping to make it far enough to receive some snarky comment about my voice or persona from the man himself, and I was totally planning to sing All My Little Words by Magnetic Fields. It would have been sweet.

To make everyone feel better, choose to believe something my friend Alicia commented on. Perhaps this was a celestial intervention, because I'm just so damn good that obviously I was going to advance all the way to #1, resulting in the abandonment of my chosen career and taking away someones chance at greatness. Definitely.