What the heck am I doing?

Getting Ready:
This morning began at 5:45am when I hit my snooze button and went back to sleep. Again I woke at 6:05am and decided I better get up. After a shower, the ordeal began. Curling my hair, with my mother's help, took about 45 minutes. I felt a little like Shirley Temple, but I knew the curls would calm down as the day progressed. Out the door at 7:25am with my large load of anything I could possible need for the day, I made my way towards the LDS Conference Center. I passed Sugarhouse Park, and saw some marathon runners and thought of someone I knew who was racing, hoping she was doing well and remembering when my brother-in-law Jon ran the race the year before. Signs read "Turn your radio to AM1300 for race information" which I tried, but all I could hear was the magnetic waves from Jupiter (radio fuzz). Not helpful. Off the freeway and moving towards South Temple, I ran into a slight problem. The marathon runners were running right down S. Temple, the street I need to cross to get to the Conference Center. And NO traffic was let through. "I just want to cross the street, I have less than 10 minutes to get to my interview!" Nothing doing, of course. I made my way south down Main Street (the opposite direction than I wanted) and felt a slight sense of panic. I called Mom and said "HALP!" and she suggested calling. I dialed the number on the packet I was given, and got the DUP museum answering machine "The museum is now closed." Yeah, thanks. My next attempt was a friend who was lending help to this whole experience, and while she searched for a number, I found a cop and he said "600 W to North Temple." Phew! I made it to the Conference Center by the time the girl found a phone number.

The Morning:
I was only about 5 minutes late for the interview, and explained my situation, but still felt it was a bad impression to be late. The interview went fairly well, I felt reasonably relaxed and did my best to give intelligent answers to their questions "Are you currently reading a book?" "Yes, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" (I think I got odd looks from that answer) "Why offer another New Testament translation to all that already exist?" "To offer a broad perspective on all the meanings and nuances of the words" "If you could pick anyone to be your running mate for President of the United States, who would it be?" *pause* The first thought was "Jim". Come on, pick someone famous. . . Nothing. . . Fine, I can't sit here forever. "My friend Jim, he is unbiased and willing to discuss issues to come to the best conclusion for everyone." After they dismissed me (a very short interview) I went to the cafeteria to get some breakfast (banana and muffin). A few girls were already seated, no one familiar. I sat down and loe and behold, people talked to me! And were friendly! As one who sucks at remembering names, I promptly forgot everyone I was introduced to, but did my best to still be friendly. 9:30am we moved to the stage to run through formations and positions. We had all been distributed a number to be identified by, instead of names. Lucky number 36 baby! Filing on and off stage, standing straight, smiling. After we learned where to stand for each of the sessions of competition, we went to grab lunch ( much of it was oddly frozen) and primp for the 2pm show.

Afternoon show:
1:50pm, we meet backstage, and line up for our first walk-on. Standing just behind the curtain, it suddenly hit me. "WHAT the HECK am I doing?! I'm going to walk on stage, people staring at me. WHY am I doing this?" My mother observed that I was smiling rather big when I first the entered stage. This was due to my trying to supress an outright laughing fit. I found my place to stand and was still thinking "This is rediculous." Filing off again, we waited backstage for our groups turn to again stand on stage and answer a question. We were escorted (4 volunteer young men) from the rear, and called one by one. I walked to center stage, smile, pause, smile, pivot, turn, smile, pause, walk to microphone and smile. "I feel like an idiot" I thought. The question was "What is the Head, Heart and Hands award that you recieved in 2006, and why did you receive it?" I explained what the award was and why I received it, and left stage. Wahoo, part one complete. We once again walked on stage, stood and smiled (by this time my face was like "If you keep grinning with, you are going to look like a bigger idiot with a plastered smile", so my smile was mouth shut). The curtains closed and we left stage to dawn our evening wear.

Late Afternoon:
After primping for the evening show, all of the contestants paraded from the LDS Conference Center to the Joseph Smith Jr. Memorial Bldg. No one noticed anything out of the ordinary, we were basically invisible. . . WRONG! I haven't decided how I feel about strangers taking photos of me in a formal gown. All eyes were on us, and lots of people said "What's going on?" We explained "We're in the royalty pageant for Days of '47." The dinner was excellent! Salad with candied pecans, feta on spinach and a raspberry vinagret. Spinach stuffed chicken, rice and veggies. Chocolate mousee pie (the crust was the best part). I found another girl wearing the same dress as I was, though her's was purple, mine black and I added a shrug. Returning to the Conference Center, one girl and I absorbed the magnificent sun, birds singing, sweet flowers blooming. We made a few last minute touch-ups and filed on stage for the 6pm show.

Evening Show:
By this time I was near wearing off the shock of what exactly I was doing. We started on stage this time, and when the curtain rose, we sang the first verse of "America the Beautiful". We left stage to again file on in small groups, this time to give a 40 second speech on the theme "Catch the Vision." After being escorted on stage, standing and again called by number, I made my way to center stage, smile, pause, circle around the 'x' in front, then in back, and (smiling) sweep to the microphone. I had been thinking about what to say for a week. I had a good idea of the kinds of things I wanted to say. When I got to the microphone, I started speaking and thought it was going alright. I paused. . . and nothing else came. Great. Just great. I don't remember how it ended, I just know it was . . . yeah. I said "thank you" and walked back to my position. The next girl joined me after her speech and I said through gritted teeth "We're done!" and for some reason we both started laughing. It was effective for a larger smile at least. We left stage, waited for the rest to finish their speeches, and again filed on stage. A man came out and sang to us, a song that was something along the lines of "You are beautiful...blah blah." Again I struggled not to crack up. I was thoroughly enjoying myself throughout the day out of sheer shock and amazement that I was parading on stage. The top ten were chosen and the rest of us joined the audience to watch them answer two additional questions. I didn't know the trio royalty well, but was happy with the results.

Post-Show:
My family was kind enough to support me and compliment me on my performance, though my speaking skills could use improvement. My neice had apparently loved all the pretty girls in sparkly dresses. A friend also came. Support meant beyond what I can say. I turned in my number and was given a large gift bag with awesome presents in it. Heck, I'll dress up and parade in a formal for a gift certificate to La Caille, The Sports Mall, a picnic blanket, lotion, jewelry, a cook-book and book by Sheri Dew.

Thoughts:
The day was vastly different than I expected. Girls were friendly, and bonds were forged. All of us were on our own, so everyone was willing to help each other out. With a little help from Pepto-Bismal, the nerves were bearable. Though my speech was short, odd and possibley coherent, I enjoyed every moment of the day. A pageant has NEVER been in my life's plans, so all of it was new. I felt foolish, yet lucky to be there and just have a good time. All the girls are talented and confident, most friendly and good-natured. It was an excuse to buy a new dress that I am eager to have an excuse to wear again.

Whodda thunk I would enter and survive a pageant? *throws arms in the air*

Grandma says "Better luck next year."

And that just may be true.