A/N Just some stories about my freshman year in Band.... all are true..
some might, MIGHT be stretched to the point of almost a lie.. just
remember, the boosters are evil, were always evil,and will always be evil.
Tutu is their leader. i have changed almost everyones name.. cos i figure
if they find this.. they'll want a good laugh. happy reading.
Band Camp
This one time.... at band camp...
"Briana?" I said to my roomie, my best friend.. my partner in crime. "What floor are we on?"
"Oh.. " She said, looking at our folder of info. "Three."As we walked up the stairs, we were greeted by a numerous amount of people going to search for their rooms. When we arrived on the third floor (why us!? why THREE?) Mrs. Tied was standing at the top, with her arms crossed and a smug look on her face. She was a booster, evil as they come. She had hated my family and I since I entered the school system and stole section leader away from her daughter-who had no reason being section leader.. 9th grade and cant play an Eb scale... what crack was the director on then!?--and why didn't he share?!. Well, Mrs. Tied did this thing with her shoulders, she thought she was the shit-she wasn't.
I should inform you, that Briana and myself are the worlds biggest klutz's. We tripped about four or five times on the way upstairs. We unpacked and went down to the field..practiced.. blah blah blah.. and went to bed. Also, I should inform you, that the seniors, nearly every one of them (about 12) were some of my closest friends, but I will never forgive them for what they did that night. Briana and I sleep like rocks, we hear nothing-except drums.
Around three in the morning, Briana and I woke to the sound of drums. I was on the bottom bunk, and Bria, the top. At sound of the drums, I thought a bomb went off. I jumped up, needless to say, hit my head on the bunks, and ran out side.. in my boxers and t-shirt, with my cute little stuffed animal in hand. (15 and sleeps with stuffed animals.. YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?!) Right outside our door, were the seniors. Soon after the drum cadence, the rest came in with their part in-some song, I was too groggy to remember what, when I saw her.
Her name is Tutu, evilest of all the boosters. She thinks she's in charge, is hated by everyone, and tells lies about every student-because she's "better than them." She tried yelling at the seniors, who were merrily playing-lalala- and I decided to go to my room, I'd get them back somehow..I walked back into my room, and Briana was lying on the floor, kinda motionless. She looked up at me, and said she thought she broke her ankle-tyring to jump off the bunk because the noise scared her shitless. Rule One- if you fall down alot, don't jump off of a bunk bed, injuries are likely.
The first injury..and it wasn't me! ::happy dance:: No, I was the second one.
This other time- at band camp....
Julie and I sat in my room, LeAnne was sleeping in hers. We ate the food and cans of cheese my Mom had packed for me. We were also throwing rits crackers out the window. Well, you know how your brain gets confused because you want it to do more than one thing? Well, I really really wanted the cheese in a can that was on the window sill, and I also wanted to hit dorkface down there with a cracker. Lifting my arm, not knowing where it was going, I swing it right into the corner of the window, the sharp metal part.
OMG did it hurt. I grabbed it as hard as I could and ran around the dorm floor a couple times, to keep myself from screaming. Getting back to my room, I flung myself on the bed and started laughing.. Julie just looked at me and said, "God Isabelle, it was just cheese in a can!" After a while, it stopped hurting.-that bad. I removed my hand from the grasp on my arm, and it was a nice shad of purple with about a two inch cut on it. Pretty red blood flowing from it. I ran downstairs, to get a band aid, or whatever, and the lady in charge of all that stuff-an evil booster- asked me to move my arm. It didn't move. Well, that makes my roomie and I, the first two ever to go to the hospital at band camp. Oh it was horrible. I didn't start crying until I was told I couldn't march. Band faggish enough for you.
Well, ofcourse I marched, I wasn't there for nothing! And played botchi too. Pain killers are nice. Very nice.
A/N Well, those are the two stories I think are good enough about band camp. It really sucked. Got my senior friends back with a little kick ass botchi. Can't do much with a bruised bone-oh yes, it wasn't broken, leave it to me to do everything BUT break it. Trip to Canada, Local Band Show, and Dixie Classic trip yet to come. Ofcourse.. with the funny things here and there.. in band. Just remember... Brass has the word ass in it, because, in the musical body, they are the ass. REVIEW!
Band Camp
This one time.... at band camp...
"Briana?" I said to my roomie, my best friend.. my partner in crime. "What floor are we on?"
"Oh.. " She said, looking at our folder of info. "Three."As we walked up the stairs, we were greeted by a numerous amount of people going to search for their rooms. When we arrived on the third floor (why us!? why THREE?) Mrs. Tied was standing at the top, with her arms crossed and a smug look on her face. She was a booster, evil as they come. She had hated my family and I since I entered the school system and stole section leader away from her daughter-who had no reason being section leader.. 9th grade and cant play an Eb scale... what crack was the director on then!?--and why didn't he share?!. Well, Mrs. Tied did this thing with her shoulders, she thought she was the shit-she wasn't.
I should inform you, that Briana and myself are the worlds biggest klutz's. We tripped about four or five times on the way upstairs. We unpacked and went down to the field..practiced.. blah blah blah.. and went to bed. Also, I should inform you, that the seniors, nearly every one of them (about 12) were some of my closest friends, but I will never forgive them for what they did that night. Briana and I sleep like rocks, we hear nothing-except drums.
Around three in the morning, Briana and I woke to the sound of drums. I was on the bottom bunk, and Bria, the top. At sound of the drums, I thought a bomb went off. I jumped up, needless to say, hit my head on the bunks, and ran out side.. in my boxers and t-shirt, with my cute little stuffed animal in hand. (15 and sleeps with stuffed animals.. YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?!) Right outside our door, were the seniors. Soon after the drum cadence, the rest came in with their part in-some song, I was too groggy to remember what, when I saw her.
Her name is Tutu, evilest of all the boosters. She thinks she's in charge, is hated by everyone, and tells lies about every student-because she's "better than them." She tried yelling at the seniors, who were merrily playing-lalala- and I decided to go to my room, I'd get them back somehow..I walked back into my room, and Briana was lying on the floor, kinda motionless. She looked up at me, and said she thought she broke her ankle-tyring to jump off the bunk because the noise scared her shitless. Rule One- if you fall down alot, don't jump off of a bunk bed, injuries are likely.
The first injury..and it wasn't me! ::happy dance:: No, I was the second one.
This other time- at band camp....
Julie and I sat in my room, LeAnne was sleeping in hers. We ate the food and cans of cheese my Mom had packed for me. We were also throwing rits crackers out the window. Well, you know how your brain gets confused because you want it to do more than one thing? Well, I really really wanted the cheese in a can that was on the window sill, and I also wanted to hit dorkface down there with a cracker. Lifting my arm, not knowing where it was going, I swing it right into the corner of the window, the sharp metal part.
OMG did it hurt. I grabbed it as hard as I could and ran around the dorm floor a couple times, to keep myself from screaming. Getting back to my room, I flung myself on the bed and started laughing.. Julie just looked at me and said, "God Isabelle, it was just cheese in a can!" After a while, it stopped hurting.-that bad. I removed my hand from the grasp on my arm, and it was a nice shad of purple with about a two inch cut on it. Pretty red blood flowing from it. I ran downstairs, to get a band aid, or whatever, and the lady in charge of all that stuff-an evil booster- asked me to move my arm. It didn't move. Well, that makes my roomie and I, the first two ever to go to the hospital at band camp. Oh it was horrible. I didn't start crying until I was told I couldn't march. Band faggish enough for you.
Well, ofcourse I marched, I wasn't there for nothing! And played botchi too. Pain killers are nice. Very nice.
A/N Well, those are the two stories I think are good enough about band camp. It really sucked. Got my senior friends back with a little kick ass botchi. Can't do much with a bruised bone-oh yes, it wasn't broken, leave it to me to do everything BUT break it. Trip to Canada, Local Band Show, and Dixie Classic trip yet to come. Ofcourse.. with the funny things here and there.. in band. Just remember... Brass has the word ass in it, because, in the musical body, they are the ass. REVIEW!