You know those kinds of mornings when you wake up and you feel a sense of hope and promise, like when you wake up and you know exactly where you are and there’s not a left over hot pocket lying next to you?  That happened to me this morning.  I woke up and finally understood Ke$ha because I felt like P.Diddy, or Flava Flav at the very least- I mean I was really on my game!  I jumped out of bed, put on Hanson’s Christmas album from 1997 and was ready to get this Friday started. 

That was UNTIL I read that wedding of the damn century happened LAST NIGHT.  And the wedding of the century took place WITHOUT ME.

At first I was conflicted.  As Sinead’s soul sister, I was happy that her bald-headed self found someone that loved her as much as she dislikes the Pope.  Considering just a few short weeks ago she was wearing black fishnets and singing backup, I didn’t know what the future held in store for her. 

Yet, also as her soul sister, I was shocked and frankly offended that I wasn’t invited.  No, not invited as a guest, but invited as a performer.  I mean, ask anyone- like my neighbors, my parents or my beanie baby collection, if anyone could bring home the gold on Nothing Compares 2 U, it was me.  More than once I was stopped mid-song, with people asking if I was for real, so if that doesn’t tell you the kind of reception my vocal chords got, I don’t know what will.

Honestly, this isn’t the first time I have been glossed over as a wedding singer so I’m probably going to have to first hire a manager then fire them because somewhere there’s a real breakdown of communication.  Who sang at Jay Z and Beyonce’s wedding?  Not me!  And how about Ice T and CoCo’s vow renewal ceremony? As Shaggy says “wasn’t me!” 

So if you know how to properly manage a real artist, HOLLA ATCHO GURL.  In the meantime, I’ll be listening to Hanson and drinking Peppermint Schnapps because that’s what PLAYAS DO (during Christmas).