Recede in te ipsum.

About to wear four different shades of green out in public.

Let’s rock some shit, bitches.

#my life

Band, school, band, run, nap, homework, sleep,

band, school, band, run, nap, homework, sleep,

band, school, band, run, nap, homework, sleep.

rba-:

Sometimes I enjoy lurking.

My house is empty. That means I can play my clarinet as loud as I want. Huzzah!

First game.

So on wednesday afternoon these were my thoughts:

(I wrote this and saved it as a draft)

Prediction: Out first halftime show of the year will suck. Why?

[I’m not pretending that I’m perfect and am never part of the problem, I know I deserve some blame too.]

Because the drill is stupid and ambiguous, we were never given clear directions on a lot of things at practice and therefore have formed bad habits, I’m surrounded by a retard who messes up her spacing by taking too small of steps every single time, and a first year marcher (so I can’t put much blame at all on the latter), we haven’t marched through and played it once (the game is in two days), we haven’t even sung through it from memory, we haven’t put it on the actual football field yet, we haven’t had a memory test on it/we’ve only been working on memory for a day, it’s too bright sounding, everyone seems to fall apart without the percussion, tone quality, tone quality, tone quality (I won’t pretend that I’m perfect in this category), and nobody who needs to ever takes home their instrument to practice even though they need to the most. We have one practice scheduled to fix all of these things. That’s exactly 80 minutes to make this not suck harder than a public toilet in July. Let’s just hope the people who need to will pull some greatness out of their asses in time.

BUTT FUCK US ALL

Yeah. These were my thoughts this afternoon before the football game:

(again I saved this as a draft)

So it’s 4:23 and the game is at 7:00.

I was so nervous for everyone that I couldn’t sleep last night (dozed off after about three hours at about 2:30 or 3:00). I’ve gone over the show so many times in my head that it’s driving me insane. I’m so terrified for the people who don’t know it well my hands are trembling. I’m really hungary and need to eat but I fear that if I do I’ll barf on the sidelines before we go on. We’re not ready. This is going to be a total disaster, I can feel it. The five people I’ve talked to this about think so too. We’re in danger of becoming a stands band as it is if we don’t do well. I’m close to preying for this to turn out well, which is saying something because I’m somewhere between atheist and agnostic. I know I can do this, but I’m doubting myself at the last minute. I’m don’t need to be worried about myself though, I need to worry about the freshmen and maybe some sophomores that will make or brake us tonight at halftime. I’m more nervous than I was before curtain on opening night of Midsummer back in seventh grade, which, until now was the most nervous I had ever been. This is the most important thing in my life and if it’s taken away from me I don’t know what I would do. My breathing is shaky right now, and it’s about four hours from show time. According to Kelli, I’m the only upper woodwind you can hear, so that’s just added pressure to not mess up. I’m past the nervous point. I’m pretty much panicking right now. This has to be good. If it’s not … I don’t even know what is catastrophic enough to compare it to.

But now that it’s over I honestly couldn’t care less.

I destroyed that bitch.

I blasted the shit out of that clarinet and didn’t blow a sing note flat or have a bad tone. (I did lay out for one measure, I was facing backward and it was a whole note and in the same octave as the trumpets, so you wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway.) (Oh, and in the second to last measure I botched an eighth note. It was that fucking D (not the one above the staff, the one in the middle, yeah I know.) Hate that bitch.) Ms. A wasn’t happy, pretty mad actually, but nobody got push-ups, so it’s good.

Yeah, man. That’s marching band for you.