Sunday, Sunday, Sunday

Today was a weird Sunday. Last week Jeff told me I had the week off from playing, which threw me for a bit of a loop. But I was actually a little glad at the time because practice night was going to be fouled up with the parent-teacher conferences and I wouldn't have been able to make it anyway. I wasn't looking forward to today, however.

First off, I didn't get up in the pre-dawn hours and head off for church. I actually slept in... sort-of... I can't sleep in as well as I used to, because my body has become accustomed to the school schedule. But I did sleep longer than usual. I didn't leave the house before anyone else was awake, which meant that I got to style my daughters' hair. They're always excited when Mom's home in the mornings, because it's such a rare treat to have me braid, bind, twist and updo. Also, I got to veto Alice's clothing choice. Poor kid just doesn't have a real clue as to how to dress.

We all drove to church in the same vehicle, together, and sat together. In the congregation. I watched as they came out on stage and they sounded great without a keyboard. They don't need me! Waaahh! I am pathetic. Duh, obviously they got along just fine before I showed up last fall.

Jeff broke a string on the Taylor this morning. He was able to pick up the Takamine and move right along. Rick was wondering if it was just a technique issue, but I personally think it's just because he's playing his heart out every time he gets up there. I'm glad he had the backup, though.

I did actually get to play tonight, though, since they're still letting me on stage with SoulFire. Most of the youth were gone on the mission trip to Chicago, but there were still a fair number of them there. After we played, I went out to sit with the kids and listen to the youth director. I chose the Goth table; several of these kids are brand-new Christians, and I think that some of the more strait-laced kids are a little afraid of the black clothes and chains and multiple piercings. Me, I figure I've got a lot in common with them. I sat down next to a girl with spiky short hair, and immediately she pointed to my tragus piercing. "Did that hurt when you had it done?" she asked. I told her no, that it really didn't, but that a day or so later it was sore for a while. We struck up a conversation about body piercing and tattooing and such stuff. Later, after the whole thing was over, I waved goodbye to her. "Bye, Kris!" she said cheerfully. I think I've made a friend.