Ramblings about marching band

Freshman year, part 2

Practice continued for a while and then we were given a few days break before school stared

back up (good thing too, I'm willing to bet money that most of us only had our summer

assignments half done). The name of our show was reflections by the way, It had been

announced during band camp and I had been unlucky enough to have been in the bathroom

during that time.

Once school starts, practice starts at 3:30 and ends at 6:00, School lets out at 3:15, That gives you 15

minutes to get your butt to the bathroom, change, and get your butt out to the field (or in my case, to

the band room to get warmed up and then push the instruments out to the practice field).

Since I don't like jeans because I hate the stiffness of denim, the only exception being jeggings because

they are stretchier, I wear skirts/dresses most of the time. So to speed up the process of changing, I

wore my shorts under the skirt and put a tank top under whatever shirt I was wearing.

(please note that in Kentucky a tank top is sleeveless but has thick straps, the shirts with thin straps are

called cami's here, I've had friends from other states use tank top to refer to both and I don't want to

confuse people if I bring this up later…)

And then once I got home, I had to decide what class I could do my homework for and come up

with excuses for the other classes. I had learned back in 6th grade that teachers didn't accept

band as an excuse, even if the concert runs so late that it's your bedtime when you get home

and your parents won't let you stay up a second longer.

That routine went on for a few weeks and then an important day came, the day of the first

football game. We finished up practice at 5 instead of 6 and then when we went inside we were

given dinner. I think this was the first time I ate my whole dinner and still had room for another

chick fil a sandwich.

When we got to the bleachers I wished I had brought my water with me it was freakin' hot and it

was very humid too. The humidity had made it hard to get my hair into the fishtail braid that

most of the pit girls wore ( with the exception of one of us, whose hair was too short to braid),

and I was already getting flyaway's, I made a note to myself to buy hair gel later, apparently

hairspray alone is not enough for my wild curly mess. Luckily, my mom was nearby and I

convinced her to buy me a bottle of water.

When It started to get towards the end of the second quarter we all left to warm up. I had been

placed on rack and so I did not have to warm up with the mallets. (I did warm up on an extra

marimba during practice, but we don't bring it to games or competitions). So chilled out, my

mom had come over to take pictures, so I gave her lots of hugs, and tried to calm my nerves.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, it was time to go on. I helped to push out my rack and

when we got to the field my mom gave me an encouraging wave (Our band director has her

take pictures out on the field, he thinks this is good practice for when we go to BOA and there

are judges on the field). Then the show started.

Then it was over, and we took our stuff over to a corner where it would be safe and sat down to

be talked to. Our band director said we did a good job, But what really mattered the most was

we think we did.

I would like to say I remember it all very clearly and that I think I did great. But honestly, I don't

remember anything at all.

After talking to some upperclassmen, I discovered that very few of them remembered their first

performance either, I guess the nerves do it to us.

Then It was announced that next week we would be going to our first competition at Louisville

male. We all cheered and looked at each other with the "get ready to kick butt face"

We had a week to prepare and The director was not going to let us waste a second of it.

The next day I was introduced to the horrible bane of existence known as all day practice.

FROM 9 AM TO 5 PM!