Trivial Pursuit
Trivial Pursuit
July 28, 1999
Ok, now you are going to receive a free singing lesson.
Stand in front of the mirror and pooch your lips together like they were the top of a present (like a ball) wrapped in tissue paper with a string tied around it. Then take two fingers and place them on either side of your mouth—and blow. That’s right, make that horse whinnying sound, and sing your scales.
There. When you are a famous opera singer, you can do this every night to loosen up your lips.
I used to always hope that someday I would be an expert at something. Experts say that if a child feels that he can do better than almost everyone, he’ll never have a problem with self-esteem. I have NEVER been that child and I have always had problems with self-esteem. So the experts were right.
But I’ve given up on being an expert and I want to SING! I want to rear back and take a deep breath and let ‘er rip! I’ve never been able to sing, with capital letters, because my natural voice sounds like a three-pack-a-day smoker, but I haven’t given up yet. I’ve just go to find the right song and get my range and I’ll be fine.
Peru and my Spanish vocabulary never gets farther than “Taco Bell” and “adios,” then I can sing like Mary Poppins and we’ll make many new friends.
Classes I’ve tried so far?
1) Yoga—It always sounds so great—an expert at inner peace, but that bending my knees and trying to breath over my tummy gets me every time.
2) Crafts—The truth be know? I just don’t care enough about crafts if I’m going to have to dust them later.
3) Tennis—Too sweaty.
4) Jogging—ditto—and your knees hurt. And you have to get up early.
I just haven’t found the right thing yet, I’m sure. But, wait a second and let me go get my dirndl. You want to try a yodeling class with me?
So, I’m taking lessons and boy, I love it!
Lessons are what make the world go around for me. I love them! I don’t really care what I’m learning, it’s just that every time I star something, I think this’ll be it—THIS will be the secret talent I’ve been waiting for. Imagine how neat it was to be Grandma Moses and one day you were trying to get the dust bunnies from under your bed and the next day, your painting were being sold world wide as place mats? WOW! I mean, wouldn’t that be great? I bet my family would really be surprised if it turned out that I could make millions doing…something.
I took singing once before but I couldn’t stand to listen to myself. That was when I was in my thirties and my standards for what I allowed myself to do were a little higher. For example, I used to never go skiing because I’m not naturally very athletic and I have a tendency to fall in the line to get in the chair. And I used to feel like I needed to have the right ski clothes and look sleek in black nylon pants with hot pink strips.
Then, one day I found myself on the slopes at Sundance in a pair of old overalls with long johns underneath lying face down at the bottom of the baby hill having a great time and I thought, “This was dumb to worry about.”
So part of my thinking here is thinking that if my husband Clay and I go on a mission to inner Mongolia, it will be because they needed that one amazing thing I can do that I haven’t discovered yet.
July 28, 1999
Ok, now you are going to receive a free singing lesson.
Stand in front of the mirror and pooch your lips together like they were the top of a present (like a ball) wrapped in tissue paper with a string tied around it. Then take two fingers and place them on either side of your mouth—and blow. That’s right, make that horse whinnying sound, and sing your scales.
There. When you are a famous opera singer, you can do this every night to loosen up your lips.
I used to always hope that someday I would be an expert at something. Experts say that if a child feels that he can do better than almost everyone, he’ll never have a problem with self-esteem. I have NEVER been that child and I have always had problems with self-esteem. So the experts were right.
But I’ve given up on being an expert and I want to SING! I want to rear back and take a deep breath and let ‘er rip! I’ve never been able to sing, with capital letters, because my natural voice sounds like a three-pack-a-day smoker, but I haven’t given up yet. I’ve just go to find the right song and get my range and I’ll be fine.
Peru and my Spanish vocabulary never gets farther than “Taco Bell” and “adios,” then I can sing like Mary Poppins and we’ll make many new friends.
Classes I’ve tried so far?
1) Yoga—It always sounds so great—an expert at inner peace, but that bending my knees and trying to breath over my tummy gets me every time.
2) Crafts—The truth be know? I just don’t care enough about crafts if I’m going to have to dust them later.
3) Tennis—Too sweaty.
4) Jogging—ditto—and your knees hurt. And you have to get up early.
I just haven’t found the right thing yet, I’m sure. But, wait a second and let me go get my dirndl. You want to try a yodeling class with me?
So, I’m taking lessons and boy, I love it!
Lessons are what make the world go around for me. I love them! I don’t really care what I’m learning, it’s just that every time I star something, I think this’ll be it—THIS will be the secret talent I’ve been waiting for. Imagine how neat it was to be Grandma Moses and one day you were trying to get the dust bunnies from under your bed and the next day, your painting were being sold world wide as place mats? WOW! I mean, wouldn’t that be great? I bet my family would really be surprised if it turned out that I could make millions doing…something.
I took singing once before but I couldn’t stand to listen to myself. That was when I was in my thirties and my standards for what I allowed myself to do were a little higher. For example, I used to never go skiing because I’m not naturally very athletic and I have a tendency to fall in the line to get in the chair. And I used to feel like I needed to have the right ski clothes and look sleek in black nylon pants with hot pink strips.
Then, one day I found myself on the slopes at Sundance in a pair of old overalls with long johns underneath lying face down at the bottom of the baby hill having a great time and I thought, “This was dumb to worry about.”
So part of my thinking here is thinking that if my husband Clay and I go on a mission to inner Mongolia, it will be because they needed that one amazing thing I can do that I haven’t discovered yet.
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