I've said it before and I'll say it again: Holy crap! I am a glutton for punishment.
Nephew/Roommate was making fun of me yesterday because I was telling him how busy I would be and I said, "And I have to go to the bar after class." He said if I "had" to go to the bar, then maybe I shouldn't. He just doesn't get it. I have to schedule every minute of my life for the next 3 months, but that doesn't mean I can't schedule a little fun, too.
I'm behind on my BFS. I picked the journals, picked the poems, but haven't had time to sit down and write my cover letters or print things out or go to the post office for stamps. Although, I no longer know what my packets are going to cost. See, up until this summer, all my poems were one page. So I knew that I would have 6 sheets of paper in an envelope, and that costs 63 cents. Well, now most of my poems are 2 pages (or longer) so I am going to have to get everything weighed again. Hrumph. And when am I going to do that? It doesn't help that my new favorite form of procrastination is finding books on GoodReads.
Last night, before bed, I was watching the national drum corps competiton. (Really, I wouldn't have sought this out, but N/R told me it was on ESPN and thought I might be interested.) I didn't especially enjoy it, but did make me feel a bit of nostalgia. Fall has always been my favorite season, and I think that's partly because I loved being in marching band so much. In the spirit of band season, here are some pics from my days as a band rat. The first is me & my trumpet, circa 9th or 10th grade. The second one is me, senior year, getting ready to go on the field. (PJs and sweats are much more comfortable under polyester uniform pants than jeans are, and we had to tuck our pants into our socks so they didn't hang down around our ankles. I didn't just dress like that for fun.)
6 comments:
There it is!
I knew there was some sort of weird connection! My whole high school experience revolved around marching band. I was not a member, but all my best friends were, and I marries a Tall Flag from the marching band, whose sister was Drum Major.
How 'bout them apples!
My only quewstion now, is if that help my credibility with you or hurts it.
sorry for the typos.
Oh, Justin, there's nothing worse than a wanna-be-band-rat!
I hope you know I'm kidding. It's my opinion that marching band is the perfect place for someone who isn't athletic but needs a group to be a part of. The best thing? There are usually so many people in a band that no one will notice if you're not that talented (except maybe the director). I know this because a) I couldn't stay in step and b) I was a terrible trumpet player.
i wanted to be in band, but couldn't play an instrument. i was in choir, non-stop, instead. i couldn't read music, but that didn't stop me.
Sara! You were a "bando," as we called them? AND you played trumpet? I admire you even more.
I was a cheerleader, believe it or not. And I still love fall.
Amy- Bando, huh? We called ourselves band rats; the rest of the school called us band fags.
You know, we're hard-wired not to like each other, band kids and cheerleaders. It's amazing we've made it past that. : )
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