Wednesday, November 3, 2004

The concert went very well, but it was very tiring.
And the teacher let us do our homework we didn't do last night because we were listening to absolutely amazing oboe trios and people bragging about how the new hall cost 33 million and someone donated a 95 thousand dollar grand piano plus 2 uprights to the hall and school.

My school is dirt poor. We really are. Plus, we're doing construction, as we're an overcrowded dirt poor school. Okay, compared to a lot of schools, we're not too bad. But in Massachusetts, things are costly and there are a lot of wealthy towns we deal with, because, as one of the top bands in the country, we wind up at the same places as the bands that have the money to really do everything necessary to succeed. We have to compromise, but that's what happens. We deal, and we're great.

But ... the Riverdance week continues. I'm gonna call my friend in MN tomorrow. I really am. Right after Gilmore Girls.

While my friend ... "J" has the Issue of the Week, "E" complexes at me, "H" is in MN, and "N" blows me off, I'm having a Riverdance week, and no one really knows this.

Well, tech may not interfere with band, but when there are only two women who teach bassoon within an hour of my house, I really can't be selective. My teacher rocks, but lessons interfere with tech. I need to work that out with my history teacher/drama and tech director.

Did I mention the man's a ... jerk?

But at least he gets that band is a graded class, making it just as important as any other. True, band is my no-stress class, but I do still like to do well there, and conflicts arise, but since there is so little written homework, people don't understand that the commitments of band are doubly important to make. Which is why he let us do our homework, because he knows people don't get this.

No-stress is what band is for me. You join band if you like music, and chorus later. Well, yes, I sing better than I play. But I'm not serious about music. It's a way for me to destress. However, as great a friend as "E" is, she doesn't understand that some people really do consider band a fun, stress-reliever. For her, life is about becoming a flute master. I'm not serious about music that way, and she doesn't get that. She really gets on my case about practicing too, but interestingly enough, she has no ideas what parts I'm playing until I tell her, suggesting she actually pays no attention. She just assumes I can't hold my own. I can, though, and I know I can, but it still drives me nuts! Especially since she doesn't understand how hard it is to make sinificant dynamic changes on a double reed instrument.

"J" and I were talking on the phone. I commented on how we need a creative writing club or a literary magazine, in addition to our poetry magazine. Well, she went to a teacher, and guess whose name she used and is now supposed to sacrifice her one free day to lead up a writing club? Ain't I lucky?

And apparently, I'm the only person I know who likes polkas. Really.

Then again, I also like banjos, accordians, concertinas, fiddles, and bagpipes. I do not, however, care for harmonicas.

Though I may be over polkas by the end of my Riverdance week.
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