Last night was YW night. I was feeling so good about things, like let's DO this thing, girlz!
Until the stake showed up to train me.
Is it just me or does anyone else ever feel like they're living in an alternate universe?
A universe where Donny Osmond dances with the stars.
Donny Osmond dancing with the stars is symbolic of something. I just don't know what it is.
It's not that he doesn't rock the dance floor--the boy can dance--but watching him dance makes me ponder one of the deepest mysteries of the universe.
I pondered the same deep mystery when Marie danced with the stars. And when those five Mormon clogging sisters tried out for America's Got Talent. And every time I look at photographic evidence of myself.
Why the freakishly ginormous smile?
I mean, seriously! Me and Donny and Marie and the clogging sisters . . . our smiles could take your smiles down with one lip tied behind our backs.
What does that mean?
Sometimes I fear that if I'm not careful I will smile my face right off.
I have the same fear every time I watch Donny and Marie and the Mormon clogging sister's dance.
And I had the same fear last night when I watched the stake YW prezidency train me.
If I don't get rich and famous with my cooking blog project or my windex cologne I'm going to start a rehab center for smile-aholics called Curb Your Enthusiasm.
(Wait! Did I plagiarize that?)
I can smile like a freak with the best of them, but my poor counselors, bless their hearts, aren't as desperately needy to please as I am, and they didn't stand a chance going lip to lip with the prezidency.
I kid not, my 2nd counselor did more Hail Mary's than a college quarterback during our training.
I was like, "Uhhh, wrong sidelines, sis! Get'cha, get'cha, get'cha get'cha head in the game!"
When the stake told us we need to start transitioning the Beehives into Relief Society as soon as we yank 'em out of primary, she hailed Mary.
When they told us we as leaders need to do our own personal progress along with the girls, she hailed Mary.
But when they said that we need to tell the mothers of the girls to do their own personal progress with each and every one of their daughter's, (only please don't make it a competition,) she stopped hailing Mary and started screaming, "I've got to get out of here!" at the top of her lungs before racing from the room.
(She's pregnant though, and you know how pregnant women are.)
I personally think screaming and running from a room is inappropriate so instead I made like a school girl and giggled.
Unfortunately, before I could get a handle on it I was giggling my guts out. And then I had a sudden urge to suck on helium and sing like the Bee Gees.
That didn't impress the stake.
But honestly, I couldn't help myself. I kept thinking about my 1st counselor who has three daughters--which means she has to do her personal progress four times--once as a leader and thrice as a mother--and it seemed like the most heelarious thing in the world.
At the time.
But just as I was settling down and wiping the tears from my eyes the Stake YW Prez asked me to bear my testimony.
The first thing that popped into my head was that I know the Bee Gees are true.
Is that a bad sign?
And is it a bad sign that the training ended at exactly 10:13 p.m? You know how superstitious I am.
But I'm not going to think about that today. All's well, that ends well. That's what I always say. And it ended really well.
The stake brought in the High School Musical marching band and we closed the meeting by singing "We're All in This Together."
I tape recorded the whole thing so I could pipe it to you guys.
It helps drown out that nagging little John Mayer voice inside my head that keeps whispering "something's missing."