How many verses?

Annie to me: How many verses of the Psalm?
(It's a long psalm)
Me: I don't know, we'll play it by ear.  Maybe 3.

Cut to mass as we're doing the psalm.  We get to the end of verse 3, and I'm thinking, "Wow, this is just as long as we thought it was."  Then I look into the congregation to try to read their mood, and I see a woman weeping.  4th verse it is!

I really like my job.

Value choices

It's funny, I find that I'm faced with making a basic choice between values here at Loyola: 1.) To make sure every "performance" is as high quality as possible, and 2.) Trying to include as many people as possible.  I've worked at other schools in other parts of the country, and I bet I would be making choice number 1. a lot more often at those places.  But one of those places was in New England, and it may have been more appropriate in that culture.  I don't know. It would be interesting going back there after having worked here in New Orleans.  It's about the culture here, too.  Also, even a "performance" (in quotes because I'm mostly talking about Catholic masses) that isn't quite "perfect" is still very good, because the students in the CMFA (College of Music and Fine Arts) are damn good! So when they're involved, it's going to be of a certain standard automatically.  But I do enjoy choosing more often than not to go out on a limb and invite people to participate who wouldn't automatically choose to - even if it means it might be under-rehearsed, or under-soundchecked, etc.  I hope my bosses agree!

Halloween

So I'm sitting in my apartment watching America's Most Terrifying Places 2 on the Travel Channel.  I'm in New Orleans.  I should be on Frenchman St., or at least at Cooter Brown's.  Or so I tell myself from time to time. 

I find myself balancing thoughts of "I wish I had the kind of fun I used to" with "I'm glad I know what makes me happy, and I'm going to stick with that."  I guess at 35, it makes sense to look back just as much as I look forward, or look at right now.  I'm sort of proud at having arrived at a place in my life where everything I've ever wanted to do or be I'm doing and being.  So it's hard to get up and go every time I have a whim to do "something fun".  It's just that I guess I have to re-define fun in this new found personal era of contentment.  I don't really want to drink all that much, I certainly don't want to inch my way down the middle of a crowded street, shoulder to shoulder with other people who may or may not want to be there.  But then there's this little voice saying, "don't get complacent with life. Don't forget that God can be found in unexpected ways when you do something out of the ordinary."  I'm going to have to ponder that a little bit.  You spend your youth trying to find what satisfies you, and then you find it.  Now what?