I was absolutely horrified when, in a moment of brilliant clarity, I realized just how much I sound like Eric Cartman’s mother when I talk to my recent-arrival cats.
Were I to try to coax them with Cheesy Poofs or offer them a pot pie, I’d have it nailed.
The bad news is that I sound like Eric Cartman’s mother. That’s pretty damn bad news.
The good news is that I’ve noticed that my throat is healing. I’ll never have the voice of a three year old getting her pig tails pulled (thankfully, I’ll admit), but I have noticed some subtle changing with my voice, and I can only guess that it is the vocal chords healing from the lack of smoking.
I noticed it first when I was singing (yes, singing, me, scary thought), and I found myself thinking, “Wow, I sound pretty damned good!”
Now if I could only match key to words. I’d be super-rocking then.
Lyrical Fool 