I just realized how ominous it looked to have my last post about my vulnerability to zombie attack followed by no posts for over three weeks. I was not, in fact, killed due to the lapse in my zombie security system. I was almost killed by two different colds, wrapped around an amazing vacation, all of which kept me away from my computer, and my writing (despite having carried a notebook with me everywhere on vacation and to my sick bed each day). C’est la vie.
The vacation (a Caribbean cruise) was great though and I took part in all sorts of risky behaviour that made it even more fun.
- I zip-lined in Jamaica – having fun against my better judgment and fear of heights.
- I swam with sting rays in the Cayman Islands – trying not to think about the Crocodile Hunter and sharks. (What keeps the sharks away when we are feeding squid to the rays creating a tasty buffet of calamari/human soup?)
- And I explored the ruins of Tulum – taking amazing pictures and hoping the upper class Mayans buried there weren’t too ticked that their burial ground is such a kick-ass tourist attraction.
Between those fun, and potentially life threatening, activities I karaoked my heart out and won a place in the final show (as Cher). I auditioned for Gloria Gainer (totally knew the song they used for the show), Shania Twain (totally knew the song they used for the show) and Cher (not so much with the knowing of the song they used for the show). Two actual professional singers beat me out for the other parts but I got Cher (by singing Gypsies Tramps and Thieves, Cher at her best). For almost a full minute I was excited to win. I gave thanks to my budding chest cold which brought me down into Cher’s vocal range. I thanked my shaky, nervous voice for making me sound all dramatic in the song…then my world crashed in a bit when I found out what song I had to sing, in the show, in front of 1000 people… If I Could Turn Back Time. I think I had heard the song twice. How is it possible that I missed a whole decade of Cher’s career?
I was given two days to learn the song. I sang it to myself quietly. I sang it in my head, and when I decided I need to do some full volume practice I went on our cruise ship balcony and sang it loud and proud, just me and the waves. (And, I found out later, everyone in all the surrounding cabins and the open deck above because the walls are not as thick, nor the waves as loud as I pretended they were.) I was super confident in my abilities until the dress rehearsal when I screwed up the lines in three unique ways. I blame seeing the costume for the first time…not my absolute terror of being on a huge stage with lights and a live band. Turns out my fear was over nothing, it was a great experience, I rocked it (I remembered all the words in time for the actual show) and I may now have the performing bug. FYI, they gave me two drinks, a DVD of the performance and a cast photo for my efforts. So basically I was paid to sing on stage. I am officially a professional singer. Am so. Am so! <stamping my foot>
Back home now and recovered from cold number two I am going to spend the day with family sneaking away to write a bit while my husband and the rest of the crew shoot arrows at pieces of paper on hay bales enjoying Niece number 2’s Christmas present. (Andre is super excited to finally share his hobby.) I’ve decided I can’t let procrastination and fear get in the way of fun things like writing. I have no excuse now right? Zip Lines, Sting Rays, Mayan ghosts and singing live…writing should be a breeze.
“What could go wrong?” The question that launched a thousand stories. Choose an activity from a recent vacation or adventure and ask yourself what could have gone wrong? What could have happened (likely or not) to make that experience less immediately fun, and more of a “funny” story for later. Spend ten minutes exploring all the Murphy’s Law possibilities of a vacation adventure gone bad. What if the Zip Line got stuck in the middle? What if the Sting Ray’s barb snagged on your vest and towed you out to sea? What if you used a flash for your camera in Tulum that reflected down into the tomb and hit just the right point to wake up a very grumpy Mayan ghost? Spend twenty minutes exploring what could go wrong. Happy Writing.