A couple weeks ago, a teacher in my office asked if I'd like to sing a duet with the head librarian in the school's farewell concert for the graduating seniors. (The school year in Japan begins in April and ends in March.) Being a fan of previous school concerts, which always seemed to involve silly costumes and over-the-top theatrics, I agreed. I figured I'd be singing a Carpenters or Beatles song. Easy. Right?

Wrong.

The sheet music for "Sotsugyou Shashin" (Graduation Picture) landed on my desk a few days later, lyrics thankfully in hiragana, which I can read without trouble. "It's a famous song, ne?" said the teacher sitting next to me, who then played it for me on his computer, twice. "Rehearsal on Monday, ne?"

At least I thought that's what he said. Which is why I waited until Sunday night to find an MP3 of the song and then sing along with it, twice, sitting in my living room. I was missing a big chunk of the lyrics.

On Monday morning, I tracked down the missing lyrics and thought about how I was probably going to completely suck at this rehearsal. About half an hour before I had to walk over to the gym, the other teachers in my office started changing into various costumes. The teacher sitting next me was wearing headphones, intently singing under his breath. Wow, I thought. They're really taking this rehearsal seriously.

You know where this is going, don't you?

Okay, good, so I won't tell you about how I walked into the gym and saw all one thousand students sitting there, intently staring up at the stage where the actual, not-at-all-a-rehearsal concert was going on. I won't mention my capsized and fast-sinking stomach or the wrinkled sheet of lyrics I clutched in my hand or the hilarious costumes everyone else was wearing while I just stood there in my twill pants and cardigan. You don't need to know about the two rushed rehearsals I had with my duet partner, crammed in a corner backstage.

And then it was time.

In Japan, instead of calming your nerves by imagining your audience in their underwear, you are supposed to imagine them as kabocha, little green pumpkins. I like this much better. I can't say it really helps though.

But I did it: sang the song without embarrassing myself, got some cheers, walked on and off stage without trips, falls or other disasters. Afterward I thought about how I survived something I have probably had actual nightmares about at some point and it really wasn't so bad. I don't think I could say the same if one of my zombie apocalypse dreams came true. Now if only that dream where Rob and I are a crime-fighting team flying around on a magic surfboard with a puppy sidekick would come true already....