Wherein I discover my Inner Steel

I visited Gentleman Friend down in the Salt Lake City area over the weekend, for that is where he lives. We found a nearby LDS chapel (didn't have to look very hard--you just pick from the three steeples visible from the front porch) and slipped in just after the opening prayer. So we ended up sitting in the overflow area, where the metal chairs are set up going into the cultural hall (read: gym). This is where people sit when they want the sound of the freaking fistful of Mardi Gras beads their toddler is shaking furiously during the sacrament to be magnified every time the beads are dropped on the hardwood gym floor or slapped against the back of the metal folding chair. Thank you for giving me a reason to dislike parents on Sundays and not just during the work week.

Turns out it's also the place to go when you have absolutely no intention of singing any of the hymns. And since you're so scattered back there, if you do start singing then yours is pretty much the only voice you hear.

So this is what happened at the sacrament hymn, even O Lord of Hosts (#178 in the LDS hymnal). I started singing and Only. Heard. Me. Actually paused and whispered to GF, "Um, am I the only one singing?" He nodded in the affirmative, even though he was singing too. So I soldiered on, even when we got to the point where the men stop singing and it's just the women (read: just me sitting in a crowd of people). And I am not a singer. I mean, I can carry a tune and stuff, but I am not a soloist and have no leanings in that direction at all.

So I felt completely awkward, feeling my face get red as I'm singing solo, sure that people are judging my voice. Only then I kind of got mad. And my thoughts went like this.

"What is everyone's problem? Why are we the only ones singing? And how DARE they judge my voice when they're not even helping to cover up its awfulness? Okay, you know what? Fine. Let's do this thing. I am going to SING because I am here at church and here at church we SING. Shame on all of y'all. So let's sit up, get some breath support, and SING LOUDER. And every single person near me can SUCK IT."

So I did. I cranked up the volume and sang my heart out, even though I completely broke into a sweat, wavered all over the place, and turned beet red. And even though I didn't internalize any of the lovely words or probably get any blessings because I was busy thinking the words of "suck it" at my fellow worshipers. Just to prolong the experience, the chorister made us do the extra two versus. Because she is evil.

GF was very supportive of my stand for truth and righteousness, and whispered words of encouragement. To which I whispered back, "Shut up. Don't look at me! I can't do this if you're looking at me!" Because I'm a delightful, secure person like that. My mother will recognize those words (and the accompanying movement where I shield the side of my face from view) from my entire teenage existence.

Then he informed me that we're SO doing karaoke now.

Aside from the vulgarity, though, I think I'd like to be able to tap into that "rise to the occasion impulse" a bit more often. Where you think, "Fine. You people might be slacking off, but I'm not going to slack off too, just so I can blend in. I am going to do this thing and I'm going to KICK ITS TRASH."

Posted in: being a Mormon,dating or not so much,on my crap list