Karaoke is the germiest fun time ever. Nobody warned me of the consequences.

This is me doing karaoke last week with a group of bloggers.

 And here are my awesome boots and sparkly leggings. Love!

Contrary to what it looked like, I only had about five drinks.

I am really very excited without alcohol. And an attention seeker. I LOVE KARAOKE. It's my calling.

The best bit was singing to songs I actually hate. Untouched by The Veronicas. Telephone by Lady Gaga.

 

I got into them. Yes I did. I also loved how some of the videos were so 80s and never relating to the song. This here was the clip to The Darkness's I believe in a thing called love. Okaaaaaaaay.

 

I loved the yumcha. Blogspot failed loading the yumcha pics.

And I loved meeting other bloggers - some for the first time, others I'd met before. Fiona, Dorothy, Nicole, Amelia, Shae, Naomi, Norlin, Toushka, Amanda, Kirrily, Alli, Jody and Shelley.

And this has been my view for a lot of this week.

Sick in bed. I've been to work two days, feeling horrid. I've been to the doctor. I have been given stronger antibiotics for my thumb (three weeks today and it's almost better!) and the chest infection. I was warned by the doctor to 'watch out for pneumonia' as though it's lurking around doorways ready to kidnap me. I wish someone warned me to 'watch out for karaoke'. Lots of the other bloggers who went to karaoke are also sick.

I feel the kind of sick where I am coughing, sneezing, feverish. I am shaky. Hungry yet don't want to eat. Each cough inside the privacy of my own home is followed by a groan or an 'oh fuuuuucccckkkk'. This death by karaoke flu has been teamed with a period week and the biggest rollercoaster of emotions because of a situation that I cannot begin to write about. I am not usually the miserable sick. I am chirpy all the time. Except now.

I am cursing the germs I picked up using the communal microphones. Though without them I'd never have been able to live out my dream - singing Truly Madly Deeply to the international video clip and kissing the screen.

 

Post script: after not having an appetite for 24 hours - not even wanting my delicious and nutritious chicken soup I cooked last night, I prepared myself macaroni cheese deluxe. I have to eat something. It looks like custard. Tastes like salty rubber. And I cut my finger on the can. Convenience foods are dangerous. FML.