an introvert & karaoke

singer-1047531_1920.jpgI have a confession to make: I love karaoke. Yes, I’m introverted. Yes, I hate being the centre of attention. Yes, I get extremely self conscious when speaking and singing in front of others. But despite all this, karaoke is something I really enjoy (disclaimer, I’ve never done karaoke in a bar, I prefer the ‘karaoke boxes’ you can rent for a couple of hours).

My first karaoke experience took place when I was 16. I was attending an appreciation dinner for the volunteers of a local convention. We enjoyed a delicious Korean BBQ meal at a little ‘hole in the wall’ restaurant. Once we were finished, we headed upstairs to the karaoke room. Although I knew a few people, the majority were strangers. Despite this, I still felt comfortable enough to sing “Phantom of the Opera” along to the prerecorded track.

My karaoke experiences continued from there. My high school friends were big fans of karaoke and we’d often spend Sunday afternoons singing and dancing along to our favourite Japanese and Korean songs (usually butchering the lyrics horribly). After graduation, all my friends went to the same university while I went to another. Despite this, we’d still get together occasionally to sing karaoke, relax, and catch up. I think my fondness for karaoke comes from the good memories I shared with my friends.

However, as an introvert, two things need to be in place for me to enjoy the experience. Firstly, I need to be in an environment where I feel comfortable and accepted. Secondly, stepping out of my comfort zone is very draining, so I need to store up energy beforehand.

Here are a couple of tips. If you don’t feel comfortable singing solo, convince 1-2 others to join you. It’s a lot of fun and you aren’t the only one in the spotlight. Also don’t feel obligated to stand up and perform your song. Sing sitting down if you’re more comfortable. Take small steps and don’t compare yourself to those who seem more comfortable 🙂

Have you tried karaoke?

Autumn Reflections – Day 29


Autumn lends itself to reminiscing and contemplation. To thoughts of past classmates, old friends, and scattered family. I often think about what they’re doing today. Did they wake up feeling content and happy? What have they been up to, are they happy with the direction their lives have taken? I often wonder if I cross their mind at all, how often do they think of good times and old memories? I hope they’re having a good day, and that their life is fulfilling and full of hope.

October’s poplars are flaming torches lighting the way to winter.
-Nova Bair

Autumn Reflections – Day 13


I love the scent of camp fires and bonfires, especially in autumn. The smell of wood smoke holds a lot of memories for me. I remember sitting around a camp fire roasting hot dogs and marshmallows with my cousins. Spending weekends with friends as we cooked meals over the fire. Playing with sparklers at the beach around a bonfire. Or chatting long into the night, watching as the fire burned down to the coals. Its amazing the memories that a little wood smoke can evoke.

Ho! for the leaves that eddy down, Crumpled yellow and withered brown, Hither and yonder and up the street And trampled under the passing feet; Swirling, billowing, drifting by, With a whisper soft and a rustling sigh, Starting aloft to windy ways, Telling the coming of bonfire days.
-Grace Strickler Dawson

Autumn Reflections – Day 7


Thanksgiving can be a warm and special time. Canadian Thanksgiving has already passed, but American Thanksgiving is coming up quickly. Its a holiday that I look back on with fondness and good memories. Spending time with family and friends, the delicious food, and all the good conversation that goes along with it. And its important that we’re reminded to be thankful for what we have.

At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is in no way inferior to the smell of the sea, bitter where it borders on taste, and more honeysweet where you feel it touching the first sounds. Containing depth within itself, darkness, something of the grave almost.
– Rainer Maria Rilke