If you have followed my writings, you may have seen my first column about my adventures with American Idol.
I won’t bore you with the details of that story—but I thought I would bring it up once more as I encountered another shot at superstardom last week.
I am taking a singing class this quarter, and I really enjoy it because not only is it great to sing and keep learning music, but it is a great GPA booster! The downside is that it is at 9 a.m., so before we warm up our voices, my voice sounds like I swallowed tar the previous night.
Sorry for the visual, but it works in this case. The class has been going swimmingly well, but last week I had my midterm performance. This meant singing in front of the class and being “engaged” in my performance.
I thought, “Oh, this will be a piece of cake; I’m an American Idol reject — I can do anything!”
Once again, I got all the crazy thoughts spinning around in my head about how I would somehow catch the attention of my instructor, and they would send me straight to Broadway.
So, the morning of my performance, after spending a few hours in my car belting my song, I got dressed for class. I put on a dress and cardigan and, deciding to be dangerous, my new black heels.
I grabbed my bag and made my way out the door. I was sort of running late, so I had a certain quickness to my step.
I got both concerned and confused looks from people as I walked down the brick pathways of Athens, but I just kept hot-footing it to class.
I made it to the music building with all the confidence in the world.
I took one step on to tiled floor, and I immediately twisted my ankle and fell like a ton of bricks. I managed to bring another girl down with me. She tried not to laugh in my face as I got up and rushed away up the steps.
Needless to say, the sunshine I had been walking on suddenly turned into broken glass. I took my seat in the classroom and tried to calm myself down.
I sang my song, but once again my voice kept faltering, and I think I was screaming in the faces of my audience. I think at the time I thought being loud would counteract the fact that I was so shaken up from my embarrassing fall.
After all, my knees were vibrating out of nervousness or maybe because my ankle was about to give out.
The moral of the story is I definitely do not have a singing career and wearing heels is always a bad idea in Athens.
This story is just one of the reasons why I am so awkward and why I live vicariously through the celebrity status of others.
Hallie Gebel is a sophomore studying broadcast journalism and a columnist for The Post. Were you the girl she took out when she tripped? Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org.