Friday, June 10, 2011

Alamo Metro Chorus

I mean to do a lot of things. I mean to run 4 miles every morning before work. I mean to wash my sheets once a month. I mean to drink 2 liters of water a day. I mean to finally get a Texas drivers license. I mean to buy a scentsy. I mean to learn the piano. I mean to go to Ireland. I mean to write my mother. I mean to keep a journal. I mean to wash the bird poop off my car. I mean to blog twice a week…and so on…but-I have finally started to do some of the things I’ve been meaning to do…first on the list; join a choir (and no, ward choir does not count).


I have been looking online for choirs to join, but with my crazy, ever-changing and evening-crashing work schedule, a choir that I could squeeze in was hard to come by. I have one day consecutively off a week…and although that day SHOULD be Sunday, it’s Thursday. After much searching of the world-wide web, I found a choir that just so happened to meet every Thursday. And it just so happened to be an all-women chorus. And it just so happened to be a barbershop chorus. AND, it just so happened to be full of women 3 times my age. I couldn’t have been more excited.

I have been going now for the past few weeks and I have loved every second of it. I love that I got hugs from several women the first week I was there, and more-so the second and third. I love that they try to set me up with their grandsons. I love that I am forced to sing so hard my voice is raw by the end of the three hours. I love that I have to practice. I love that there is an 85 year old in the choir who is a master ping-pong champ. I love that they all go out for margaritas afterward. I love that they do dancing warm-ups (that I still cannot figure out how to do). I love that they have a good news minute at the end of practice…just like relief society. I love that they joke about broken hips and doctors appointments. I love that it’s all acapella. But most of all, I love that I get to wear things like this when we perform…



Aged to perfection.

Sexy Chefs


 


Who said cooking had to be limited to cooking...?