Conducting mishaps and panic attacks

I have two stories for you in this blog post. Get ready to laugh. Or cry. Or maybe neither. But hopefully just laugh.

Once upon a time, I got called as the ward chorister in my ward. I switch off with another girl and it's pretty awesome. I only have to do something every two weeks and people know me. Case in point:

Random wardie: "Have we met? Oooh wait you lead the music don't you?"

Me: "Yeah... that's me"

So the music coordinator texts us each week before it is our turn to remind us and make sure we can do it. Since I've mastered the whole every-other-week concept, I usually anticipate her texts. Last Sunday it was supposed to be my turn and Sunday morning I realized I hadn't heard from said girl. I texted her just to make sure things were straight and asked if I was supposed to conduct. She said it was Kathryn's week - you see Kathryn did it, then we had Thanksgiving so some random person did it when the numbers were small, and then instead of me doing it, to keep the rotation the same, she said Kathryn was going to do it. I guess I lost my chance to conduct Thanksgiving week. Bummer. Ha... no I really didn't care. So there I am, sitting in sacrament meeting last Sunday and the meeting is starting and Kathryn is not up there on the stand to conduct. Bishopric member announces the first song and she is still not up there. I look behind me and make eye contact with the other pianist and through facial expressions and mouthing we communicate this to each other:

Her: "what's going on?"

Me: "Is the other girl here? It's her week"

Her: shrugs

Me: "Should I go up there?"

Her: nods

So I run up there as the intro is almost nearly complete. As I do Joe is standing up as if he's about to cover for both of us and is relieved when he sees me. I turn around - no stand. No book. I look over at him and he gives me his book. I don't know the page number. I'm flipping through right as the entrance is coming...... the pianist has to stop and wait for me. I say sorry out loud to everyone and they all start laughing. I got the page number from Bishop and turn there and we start over.... I didn't hear the end of it and kept seeing people that day who would just laugh or say how great I was up there cause apparently my face was pretty red - little do they know it was all part of the plan. ;) The best part of it all is that the other chorister was there the whole time. AND I was the one who went through the effort of checking beforehand and yet I'm still the one up there getting embarrassed making a fool out of myself. The end.

Moral of story #1: Even when you get called as the ward chorister and the music coordinator tells you it's not your turn... IT'S STILL YOUR TURN.

Fast forward one week.

Once upon a time, some mean men in my ward tried to scare me and my roommates by leaving a cardboard cut-out of Jacob from Twilight in front of our door outside our apartment. Scare us, they did. And for like a whole week straight too, even when we knew he was downstairs in our apartment. All of us would gasp everytime we saw him every. single. day. This may be sad, but it's true. Here he is pictured below.

Well after church today we saw him sitting out on the swing (well, I guess laying would be the technical term - he's pretty stiff) by the guys' apartment that gave him to us in the first place so we stole him. We put him this spot where you don't see him until you go all the way into the living room, but then you see him outta the corner of your eye RIGHT next to you. You're probably sitting here reading this thinking, what girls go out of their way to scare THEMSELVES on purpose? Well, we do... and yes we are weird. Don't ask why we decided to do this. Aaaaanyway, I am upstairs and I hear Heather screaming bloody murder downstairs. She sounded as if she was having a panic attack - I became quite concerned because the screaming was not stopping either. Like the nice roommate that I am, I went downstairs to assess the situation and she starts laughing and I'm asking what happened and she's not answering. I walk fully into the living room, see Jacob out of the corner of my eye, and hyperventilate because I think it's a real man and ... well, I peed my pants. Okay just kidding, but then it all made sense - SHE was freaking out b/c of him and decided to make ME freak out too. And it was our plan in the first place to do all of this.... and who has been scared so far because of it? Us. Not Laura or Kim. Us! The end.

Moral of story #2: We hereby call ourselves.... CRAZY!