Ok, so this was originally supposed to be posted on my school's band webpage but our director left. I am an oboe player and, heck, all of this stuff is true about me and pretty much all of it has been proven by other oboe players I know. So, enjoy. Review if you want to.

You Know You're an Oboe Player When…

The director tells you to do something; you laugh and do something completely different.

You try to kill other people for looking at your instrument.

You name your instrument.

You carry on a conversation with your named instrument, publicly.

You openly yell at your director, usually without reason.

You sneak up on people and squeak the reed in their ears.

You attempt to play the trumpet using the oboe reed in place of the mouthpiece. And, yes, it actually works.

You threaten to kill the band if anything goes wrong with your instrument, regardless if it is their fault or not.

You blame your mistakes on the bassoon section, even when there are not any in your band.

You throw a temper tantrum if your instrument is a millionth of a centimeter off from the original spot that it was sitting.

You steal pit people's mallets to brutally murder someone who is holding your instrument.

You kill someone for holding your instrument and then you remember that you asked them to hold it.

You absolutely HATE marching band, the season is just evil.

You have nightmares about burning oboes.

You are excessively happy all the time.

You mope around when your beloved name instrument is at the shop.

You come into a conversation and automatically think that they are talking about you.

You take the time to sit around and write out lists about what oboe players do, then cry when another person adds to it.

You have stabbed yourself in the eye, cheek, neck, or anywhere else with your reeds.

You would rather spend your time sitting in your room with the door closed making reeds, than hanging out with friends.

You break a reed, scream then beat a trombone player for laughing at you, and then you justify it later. They just don't understand the emotional attachment.

You are emotionally attached to your reeds and, of course, named instrument.

You are so attached to the extent that you defend to the death the fact that your instrument is in fact a living thing.

You do truly believe that your instrument is a living thing, regardless of what the stupid trumpet players have to say about it.

You call the trumpet players "stupid trumpet players" to their faces.

The stupid trumpet players constantly distract you from playing, and you blame him for it, even though it is your fault.

You NEVER ever take the blame for your own mistakes, it was the second chair oboe player or the bassoons, anyone but you.

You put the oboe to your mouth and forget that the reed is sticking out of the corner of your mouth.

You cringe at the evil word "Section."

You purposely teach the new oboe players bad habits that make them worse.

You think that you are right no-matter-what.

You are strongly opposed to change, especially when it means that you got your part doubled.

You believe that you are in fact the best, aside from you teacher (They are only better until they have nothing left to teach you.)

No one else has a clue what they are talking about, unless they play oboe, then they know a little.

You try to worm your way out of anything that does not require your oboe.

Your oboe comes everywhere with you.

You draw music notes all over everything.

You constantly talk about oboes.

Your worst nightmare is your oboe breaking.

Your math test problems say: The oboe player found a $27,000 oboe. She paid $17,000. How much does she owe?

$10,000 from the trumpet player.

$16,000 from the tuba player.

$27,000 from the second chair oboe.

None of the above.

You choose the answer C and fail your math tests.

You are not capable of not thinking about your oboe.

You daydream about your oboe.

You are asked by another oboe player, if they can borrow a reed; you laugh and tell the band director.

You study for tests by linking the right answer to something band related.

You do not stop thinking about your oboe, even when out on a date.

You wrap your oboe up in two blanket and then sleep with it to keep it warm.

You have written an essay on why the oboe is the best instrument.

You constantly check on your named oboe.

You have separation anxiety when you leave your oboe for any length of time.

You think dynamics are suggestions; you get to play as loud as you want.

You get yelled at for playing too loud and you play louder, just to prove your point.

You get sent to make copies because you play too loud.

You make other people put away your chair and stand for you.

You carry around an oboe reed making kit and pull out the knife in the middle of class to fix a tiny spot that is uneven.

You cry when you don't get to play your oboe.

The first word you learn in another language is oboe.

You have created a family tree for your oboe.

You fear fire and oboe in the same sentence.

You honestly don't get the oboe jokes.

You have gone in great detail how to clean, put together; take apart, how to play and how to make reeds to the trumpet section.