Haverings

So...this one time, three best friends went to the MOA. Such a delightful dose of culture and refinement washed over them, and they were left instantly smarter. Then they had a fabulously smart idea: why not have a girls night out? Soon, a night such as had been heretofore only imagined was being carried out. The girls were basking in the sublimity of cheese and chocolate fondue, purple face masks and parafin wax dips (did you KNOW you can do your elbows?) Not to mention the travel size microdermabrasion set and new Peach Smoothie Satin Hands from a certain pink-loving woman (no--not Erika. This lady is much wrinklier and older--in fact, deceased).

So this one time, The Brigham Young University's Young Ambassadors' Singing Entertainer camp began. And it brings my past life out from its box in the closet and waves it in my face. I did that once.

It really was like a different world. In my opinion, a harder one--always competing for attention with every single other person in the room--all of whom seem to be better at getting it than you do...The hours of tiring practice squashed between the rest of life, resulting in 3, maybe 7 shows? Wanting that solo more than anything in the world (it's one verse, for heaven's sake) and being beaten out...sigh. Those were the days. It was quite the roller coaster, with fabulous ups that almost paid for the horrible lows. I loved it!

I look at my life now: computer teacher, toiling the day away to teach people how to use things that make working better. Who wants to work anyways? I get so annoyed with my teachers, I don't even want to know what my students think of me! I wear no make-up, and the perma ponytail seems to have moved in to stay. I go home at night and instead of going to a play practice, I try to dredge up the energy to make my husband dinner...unless I don't, and then he has toast or something.

I've been noticing the difference ever since I came to work here, but it's been especially blatant this week. Because, you see, I work in the KMB, where the bathrooms only exist in other parts of the building. The fastest is to cross the line (through an "Emergency Exit" door no less!) into the world of costumes and bright lights, loud music and laughter. My old world. Opening the door from the new to the old has been interesting. Up the stairs is where I used to come for voice lessons. Further down, the dance rooms that we used for Singing Entertainer, and that I took a dance class in. The bathroom even, where I used to change as fast as I could so I could get to English almost on time. And NOW, there are little thespians running all over the place. I look at them and see me (well, okay. I identify with the ones that seem a little out of place, I'll admit. The ones that don't have designer work-out outfits, perfectly done hair and makeup, and are maybe a little longer than necessary). There's even Alan Sacket--whom I had a crush on when I was 8, and seemed the epitomy of successful showman--who is a counselor.

I'll be honest, there's a little wistfullness there. But something that I've learned this week is that I like my life! It's different, and I like it! And who knows? I may live my old dream and be in Hale Center Theater plays someday. Or move outside Utah and start a family playhouse myself! I'm not done with the "more exciting" things that I used to love, I have just moved to a different stage. And if I'd continued with my "other life," who knows where I would be? Prolly not married to the most fabulous man in the world, happily muddling through a quiet life. The old world has one new thing to teach me--suddenly I catch the last part of the song blaring in the background: "I've got my man, who could ask for anything more?"