i wanted to break out into song the other day — during my exam, on the bus, on the street. i was listening to christina aguilera’s “stripped” album and i really wanted to sing at the top of my lungs in front of everyone staring at me with slacked jaws.

what i haven’t told many people is that i want to be a singer. does that sound corny to you? well, it really does to me. it’s so corny, in fact, that i can’t reveal that part of myself to most people. i have a good voice. hell, i have a great voice (maybe not up to par of miss aguilera) that i use on a daily — even minute-ly — basis. i love singing. it’s the one activity i feel completely confident participating in, at least when there’s not that many people around. otherwise, i’d feel as naked as andre agassi’s ugly bald head.

i haven’t had any singing lessons, which is another reason i feel so good about myself when i’m singing; i’ve been in concert choir and jazz choir, but i’ve never had any formal training. sometimes i think about perfecting my voice with real lessons, but then i decide not to. it wouldn’t be very natural. i wouldn’t be as special — not that i really am at the present moment.

i sing at home when no one else is present because i’m pretty sure constant singing irritates them. i don’t think my neighbours particularily like hearing someone sing at the top of their lungs all the livelong day, either. when i’m alone, i’ll stand at the top of my stairs with all of the bedroom doors closed save for one with the stereo blaring. and i’ll sing. and i feel so confident about my voice that i hit all the notes i want to hit and feel the way i want to feel. it’s extraordinary. but, most of the time, i’m afraid someone’s going to hear me belting out a high note and sic the cops on me for disturbing the peace. that’s what sucks about living in the suburbs: tiptoeing around a bunch of retired geriatrics who can’t even be bothered by the blare of a television.

i think about entering singing contests and competitions. however, being in contest-mode wouldn’t make me feel very special, either; i’d have a hundred or more other people with the same or better voice. i’d be forced to realize how unspecial i am. in my group of friends, i’m talented; in a group of talented singers, i’m just average. and average is really not a fun boat to be paddling in aimlessly.

even the phrase “i want to be a singer” rolling off my tongue makes me feel inadequate. who am i to want to proclaim to be good at something? am i cocky? or am i just plain wrong about my voice being remotely good?

i just want to sing. twirling-on-the-swiss-alps-in-a-nun-costume type of singing. i feel that great when i am, as corny as it may sound. saying “i want to be a singer” in today’s day and age sounds too fantastical, almost like saying “i want to be a rodeo clown” (which might probably be more feasible, who knows). people would rather i say “i want to be a lawyer,” because then i might be doing something more realistic (albeit more morally corrupt) with my life. aspiring to be a professional singer just does not cut it in reality. not unless you’re britney spears or something, because then you’d have the real talent it takes to make it big (barf).

i realize why i feel so inadequate about myself. it’s because most of the people around me expect me to be inadequate. what business does a little chinese girl have singing? she should be driving towards something more, well, chinese. she’ll fall flat on her face.

you know what? i probably will, but i still want to sing. does that diminish any developing credibility i had of being intelligent? yeah, i thought so. i wouldn’t hold it against you if you didn’t want to be my friend anymore. i’d be pretty embarrassed of me, too.