(After having it stuck in my head for months I think I managed a passable job of leading 402 on Sunday. Thank you, Joseph Addison, for writing about late-night religion I can get behind.)
So I managed to attend every singing event this weekend except for one social (and, come on, there were THREE! And I was cooking on Saturday night!) Friday night social, singing school on Saturday, a Sunday marathon of all-day singing /social / out to dinner / Tim's concert. Tonight's weekly singing. And lest we forget, the post-singing pizza, beer, and survivalist conversation I've just returned from. But the confusing part is that I enjoyed every moment of the whole shebang immensely and have no desire to crawl into a cave or similar, and (confession) I actually enjoy my new job so much that I can't even muster up much resentment at having to go back to work this week. This is such a nice and confusing contrast to the usual highs and lows of BestTimeEver, too.much.fellowship-induced social anxiety, followed closely by crashing.
I'll probably have more commentary later along with a crappy video, but I want to say how transcendentally excellent it was on a musical and personal level to have some New England representation out here! Thanks, y'all, for pitching / singing really loud / generally bringing the intensity to laid-back california / soothing my homesick soul. And not least for bringing me a delightful dog-and-katie-phile playmate (clearly that's a girl after my own heart.)
A PSA here, if you ever get the opportunity, please make sure to ask Matt for his Rose of Sharon rest home impression.