Happiness is finding a pencil...

If Charlie Brown truly is an allegory for the common man, then we should see that everyone has their struggles, everyone lacks a certain amount of confidence, everyone perceives the people around them as having the confidence that they lack, and everyone finds their own way of coping, like visiting Lucy with a nickel. I think Charlie Brown really has it sewn up, though, between his friends and his kite and his faithful pup, he finally figures out what happiness is.

School is keeping me pretty busy. I have a huge paper due next week, 10+ pages. And I have a stats project due Friday, presentation including regression lines and residuals and I have yet to figure out what those are. And I still have 4 concerts to perform before the semester ends (it's music that I hate, too). Not to mention that I was asked to finish out the Christmas season with the ward choir before I get released.

But I'm actually very happy with it all. Probably because my focus is elsewhere. Seriously elsewhere. It's pretty well fixed on January 5th. Of course, there are a lot of preparations to be made before January 5th happens. Those could be included in the above "to do" list as well, except for one thing.

I am really excited about doing the January 5th things. They don't hover on my list like the others, poking at my brain with dulled sticks, nagging and draining me of all energy as I procrastinate. No, no. These things are exciting adventures which take me to new places and feel like gold stars on the sticker chart of my life.

Included in my letter that started with the word "Congratulations!" was a list of instructions. First, everything I do that is related to choir activities is a part of my new missionary calling, and must be done in missionary attire. I'm busting out all those skirts and dresses I accumulated while I was teaching seminary, and I love it. Finally I have a reason to be wearing skirts again, and I don't feel like such a scrubby gross jeans and t-shirt kind of feeling every day. I know a lot of people love that, but its just not my style.

Next on my list of things to do was to go and get security badges and parking passes. I love that at this point in the letter there was a parenthetical reminder about the missionary attire. Don't forget to wear a dress when you go to the parking garage! I now have my precious badges and official stuff. I've decided that my official and permanent backstage pass works in heaven as on earth, and I promised Emma she could be my +1 as long as she is single. If she gets married then other single friends and family may apply for the position. Married people are on their own.

The third item on the list in the letter was to be sure and get released from any callings before January 5th. Frankly, I rejoice in that.

Now don't go thinking that my life is totally charmed and perfect as a result of the letter and all the instructions. For example, many of the skirts I got while I was teaching seminary are entirely too big for me, and they will have to be altered or thrown out entirely because they actually fall right off of my 3-sizes-smaller hips. See what a trial? Also, the parking pass includes a windshield sticker which I have yet to place, because there is a giant crack in my windshield, and I need to get it replaced but I'm not sure that I will be able to afford to do that before I need to actually use the parking sticker... oh what a quandry! And perhaps most troubling of all is that my bishop wants me to continue as ward choir director right up until January 4th! He's like Lucy, and my release is the football! He's tempting me, tempting me, but alas not yet!

(I hope you all see the facetiousness in my complaints)

Having accomplished all that I could on that "to do" list, I find myself answering the phone to more and more unfamiliar numbers. Yesterday it was a frantic sounding lady who told me that it was "imperative" that I be at the choir office in just a few hours for a session with a voice coach. "Imperative?" Ok. I had some stuff planned for the evening, but could be available for the timing she requested. You say "jump", I say "Really? You want me to? Can I? May I? How high, what time, should I be there early and how long would you like me to stay? Also, I'll bring cookies if it will make you like me more." Of course, then the lady asked me for my height and dress size, which I also gladly disclosed, including the information about the 3-size-too-big seminary dresses.

I went there thinking that it would be sparse as far as traffic and parking, since it was just a random Tuesday night. Of course, I neglected to consider the Christmas Lights factor. It took me a little longer to get there than expected, but I was still 20 minutes early. There was this sign on the door telling me to wait patiently and the vocal coach would be there shortly to let me in. I stood there next to door 25 listening to the recordings of the choir played on the loudspeakers while crowds walked past looking at the lights and then noticing me and staring at me and the sign as they walked past. I wanted to yell at them "I'm standing here because I get to sing with them! They want me and I'm good enough and next year that recording will include ME ME ME!!!!!" But I restrained myself, smiled calmly and waited. The door opened and my old voice teacher was waiting for me. You see, she's the vocal coach for the choir now. She remembered me and we caught up a bit and I sang for her. My 3 octave range is still 3 octaves (hooray!) and my voice is still just about the loudest most people will ever hear (it's a blessing and a curse) but my staccattos have come leaps and bounds and my marcatos are even and controlled and my decrescendo is smooth. Of course, I've also gotten lazy and my jaw tenses up and my chest drops. And she said to me "that was never a problem before, you are lazy!" and while I appreciated the correction I also began to comprehend a little better the standard that I am now going to be held to. I will always prefer participating in an ensemble that requires real effort and produces great sound, but that in no means diminishes the energy spent on such a project. I'm really in for it.

My time was up, I left with a list of things to practice before January 5th. And we walked out the door to meet the next person one her list of voice coach sessions for the night. Nobody was standing at the door, but she called out for her and a nice lady peeked around the corner at us.

"I was just listening to the beautiful music." She said.

And the voice coach replied "That's ok, but come with me now, because by next year you will be singing with them!"

And I waved at them at walked away with the biggest smile I've ever felt.

I am taking a page from Charlie Brown, and finding all sorts of joy in the mundane. I'm sure that there are very few people in this world who have gotten so much of a thrill out of signing for a parking pass. But I'd bet its about the same feeling as Charlie Brown had when he found that pencil. And I know there are people who get a thrill out of hearing the choir, but mine increased exponentially with that letter. The choir didn't change, I did. And the little red-haired girl that chews her pencil doesn't quite know what a gift she gave to Charlie Brown, when he discovered it and realized that she has her insecurities just like him. But it changed him just a little too. So this Christmas you'll find me in his corner. We'll be finding joy in pencils and letters and parking passes and kites and even in that football that keeps getting pulled away. Because eventually Lucy will give us a shot. Think of it this way. The first time you see me up there singing, you'll know that Charlie Brown finally kicked that football. And it went straight through the uprights. GOAL.