It's been summer for a week and a half, and I am beginning to remember what summer is really like. Yes, it is essentially the absence of school. But the absence of school means a whole different way of functioning. I've started to notice that my eyes hurt all the time. When I was trying to figure out why, I realized that for the majority of my waking hours, all I do is shift back and forth between the computer and a book. That's all.
My sleep patterns are getting really wierd too. For most of what there's been of the summer, I've gone to sleep at about one and gotten up at about ten thirty. Drivers' ed at noon feels like it is in the morning. Sunday after I wrote, I reconciled with my parents and stayed up until two thirty talking to them. (Neither of us was doing anything wrong, really. It's just that in the summer we're around each other too much, so I start acting slightly less mature, so they start acting more authoritarian, so I start acting less mature... And it just keeps going until my mother and I end up yelling at each other about things like whether or not to call tech support.) The reconciliation was nice, but I didn't end up going to sleep until three thirty or four, and I had to be shaken awake in the morning so that we would be on time for drivers' ed. (At noon.) Then last night I went to sleep at about three and was wide awake, for some reason, at five thirty. Seriously. So basically, now I'm all groggy and screwed up, which is adding to the general summer feeling of not being fully functional, or particularly wanting to be.
This always happens. At the beginning of summer, as well as at the beginning of school, my body and mind always kick into some kind of wierd "what the hell is going on" mode, and I feel kind of unsettled and sleep wierd and have a headache most of the time. I don't like to think of myself as someone who likes routine, but... I am. I hate change. Change makes me sick.
Anyway, I suppose what I really want to/should write about is the marching band practice we had tonight. I had a trombone lesson this afternoon, and was thrilled to discover that, with the positions written in, I could play through the entire opener on the second or third try.
Pretty much all Mr. Thomas said was "...Damn, Aidan," which made me pretty happy.
We picked up Molly on the way there. She was practicing melophone when I arrived, and I had to go upstairs and get her.
"I had a lesson today," she said as soon as I walked in. "I can play an F scale."
"Yay. Did he give you the opener?"
"Yeah."
"Can you play it?"
"Um... Mostly. Oh, and he says that you are 'an outstanding musician.' Can you like, already play it?"
"Yeah."
"Not bad for... Two weeks."
I was still pretty nervous going into the thing. I'm not a trombone player. Not yet. So I kind of just felt like a poser. Molly mentioned feeling like a poser as well. We both awkwardly walked up to a group including Dave, Ani, Bonnie, and Laura the euphonium girl from art club. I set down my case. Bonnie looked at the case. She looked at me. She looked mildly, but genuinely, upset. Bonnie does not tend to look upset. "We'll miss you," is all she said.
I felt bad. I tried to explain that I was sad to leave my section, but that this was the only way I was going to learn a new instrument at all, and that I wanted to be heard, and that I'd still hang out with her and Valerie. It didn't help much. I kept thinking about how good I am at the flute in comparison to how good I'll be at the trombone during band season, even if I practice all the time. I wondered whether I'd made a mistake.
The first thing we did was marching. Very introductory stuff - how to stand at attention, how to come to attention, how to march foreward. And the rookies got to meet Mike the drill instructor. Molly described him afterwards as being "like a military officer, only hillarious," which I think is a good description. Mike does not attempt to learn anyone's name. He gives people nicknames. Mine, for example, is Dorothy, because freshman year I came to band camp with red converse high tops. Adam's is Rambo because of the bandana. Valerie's is Twin, because she marches so well Mike says the two of them were seperated at birth. This becomes more comical when you see the two of them next to each other - Valerie is a rather small, pretty Asian girl, and Mike is about fifty, but still looks like he could play football and kick everyone's ass without even trying. Anyway, that went well. I think my technique was pretty good. Mike also made fun of me quite a bit. That's good. It means he knows you.
Then we went inside and played. That went surprisingly well too, in terms of how well I did. Certainly better than Chris, my stand partner, who looked a little like he wanted to curl up and die. I introduced myself. He said he recognized me from the bus. I asked him if he wanted to use my music, since it already had positions written in. He said, "no thanks." That was the extent of the communication between us. Dave and Moose, who play first trombone, seemed to connect right away, and were consulting eachother for everything, helping each other as they went along. Chris clearly was not even putting air into his instrument at points, but did not so much as look at the markings on my music.
I followed Laura. Second baritone and second trombone have the same part. I like Laura. Perhaps she will consult with me, eventually.
In the car on the way home, I thought about how Bonnie always used to consult with me. I feel bad for leaving her. I know why she looked upset, really - she doesn't want section leader next year. She thinks she can't do it, and she thinks I can. And she knows I want to. I dunno. I guess she'll just adapt. She's a better player than I am - it's not like she doesn't know what she's talking about. Or she'll pass it on to one of the rookies this year. But the rookies this year are... Jeez, they seem afraid to ask for help, never mind to be the one to help people when they need it. It seems like the whole group is just hurting for a leader... Whatever. I'm not going to be power hungry. I'm not going to be like Ivy. I will play whatever the hell instrument I want, and not worry about who is going to take who under whose wing.
But my part is so simple. And so low. And it was just a couple of months ago that I was on the other side of the room playing flute, and... it's wierd, is all.
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