Goodbye Aloha

While in Hawaii, I committed myself to take the Aloha spirit home with me--to live a little easier and not stress. A lot of this commitment stems from the knock-down, drag-out blues I encountered when I got back from Lake Powell. I just don't recover well from vacations; reality somehow knocks me on my fanny. (I know--how strange to prefer vacation life to real life! I'm a nut.)

So I was doing really well with the whole 'hang-loose' adjustment program--enjoying my kids, avoiding laundry, warming up Costco food. And then I got a call from the bishopbric on Wednesday night which sent Aloha back across the ocean. Yup. A talk in Sacrament Meeting. And 3 days to prepare. (I was filling in for someone else, thus the last-minute notice.)

(Because the LDS church operates with a lay ministry, members of our congregations take turns addressing the whole membership. The bishop and his counselors decide on a topic and then invite someone to speak on it--totally voluntary.)

Finally, Saturday night I got this talk all written, so I tested it out on Lance. It was 35 minutes long. (Poor guy! Although he was watching football through half of it. Can't blame him.) I was assigned just 10 minutes. So I started cutting stuff out (including the charming story of me as a 5-yr-old. sniff) and got it down to 20 minutes. I always talk faster when I'm nervous, so I figured that was good enough. I went to bed, got thinking about it and realized I'd written the wrong talk, got all panicky and then had scary showing-up-in-my-underwear dreams all night. (And let me tell ya--me in my underwear redefines 'scary' in a whole new way.)

Morning comes, and I have exactly 15 minutes to re-write my talk, which really made very little difference in the end...except for making me more nervous. We go to church, I sit on the stand, and eventually realize that 2 of the other speakers are no-shows. AND there are no announcements. (When does that happen, for crying out loud??) The scheduled final speaker (my friend, Debbie) leans over to me, panicking that she can't make up that much time. Remembering all of my cut-out 30-minutes of material, I tell her I'll take care of it. Fine. All is well. 10 minutes later, I suddenly realize I've left at home the sheets with all of the amazing quotes that tie my whole talk together. To my credit, I did not scream out loud. I just clamped my mouth tight and let my eyes shoot out of my head. Not noticeable at all.

In the end, my talk evidently went pretty well. I made up all of the parts of the quotes I couldn't remember--only using "blah, blah, blah" a few times--and I got to tell the charming story of me as a 5-yr-old afterall. I have to admit, though, I felt very underwhelmed with the whole thing when I sat down. The man snoring on the second row didn't help any. I comforted myself with the fact that it was over and the scary underwear dreams would at least subside. Much to my surprise, when the meeting ended, I received many kind compliments--more than I've ever received before. Go figure.

So I guess that man on the second row was just so dazzled that he slipped into a coma. Wouldn't be the first time. (tee hee)