Raise your voice

Last night, after a hiatus of almost seven years, I attended a music rehearsal. And it felt like coming home to the most familiar, comfortable, happy place.

When I stopped performing in early 2002, I needed to go cold turkey. Like breaking up with a boyfriend, I needed to put away all the good memories and point my ship in an entirely different direction. Two years went by and I found the path that I needed to be on - publishing - and hurtled myself down that road with every ounce of energy and enthusiasm I had. And I loved it! Who knew that there was so much passion within me for something other than sheet music and slightly smelly costumes?

And I didn't miss performing at all. Not the nomadic lifestyle, not the nervous poo-inducing auditions, not the constant judgement.

But I did miss singing. For about 13 years, I sang every day. Ten years of voice lessons, a degree in music theatre performance and a short, but sweet, professional career requires it.

Then there was silence. Nothing more than an occasional tune around the house or car ride chorus. Until now.

I've joined a choir. A lovely big group of people who love to sing. And the music is great - strong, classical pieces. (When I first started looking for a choir, I feared Andrew Lloyd Webber medleys.) The nerves I had walking in last night, because I worried my sight-reading skills had atrophied and that I'd perhaps forgotten how to "do" the whole choir thing, were for naught. It all came back to me easily. And joyfully.

With my beloved high school music teacher's voice in my ear, I sat up straight and watched the conductor. I found the right systems and bars when prompted. I spit out the consonants and breathed properly.

My only mistake: I forgot to bring a pencil. (Sorry, Mr. P!)

The choir will cost me $200 for the yearlong membership, but I think it will be the best money I've spent in ages.

Total debt: $3795 and a bit
Spent today: We're just heading out now! Distillery, here we come.