Today the jazz band went to a giant convention center in the city to compete with a bunch of other high school jazz bands. It was pretty chaotic. The whole time we were there, people were running around the hallways and big open spaces of the convention center, weaving in and out of the thousands of other people running around, sometimes wearing tuxedos and evening gowns, sometimes carrying cymbol stands, saxophones and upright basses. There was one band that tried to carry a vibrophone up an escalator. Besides the people hurrying to their performances, there were also a lot of people who were just wandering around. That was how the festival operated, basically - people wandering in and out of rooms where there were performances going on.
After we arrived, wondered what was going on, wandered around, set up, and warmed up, we played. There were not too many people who wandered into our room. Frankly, I think we did end up embarrassing ourselves. Don't get me wrong, I was happy with how we played, it's just that every other band there was unbelievably amazing, and we're not.
Side note: we're screwed once Jay graduates. I never noticed it before Mr. Casto announced it today, but here's how the solos go:
"Five Hundred Miles High, featuring Jay Goldman. Ornithology, featuring Ryan James, Alice Rhodes, and Jay Goldman. The Chicken, featuring Julian Miller, Rob Yonnick, and Jay Goldman."
Julian sat as far away from me as possible on the bus, and he didn't talk to me until after we performed. And that was just me complimenting him on his crazy solo and him looking uncomfortable and saying "Thanks" without smiling. He went back to hanging out with people who weren't me, Dave, Valerie, Eric or Alice.
After we performed, I went down to the cafeteria with Dave. We got our chicken fingers and sat down at a table. It was kind of an awkward time to be eating, so there was virtually no one else in the cafeteria. There were a few minutes of silence before I worked up the nerve to say, "I get the feeling I severely freak Julian out."
"What gives you that idea?"
"I dunno, I just... I feel like he avoids me. I feel like I make him uncomfortable. I... Don't know. Crap."
He smiled a little. "See? I'm not the only one who's terribly insecure." There was a pause. "Don't worry, you don't freak him out," he said in an I-don't-have-any-actual-facts-to-back-this-up-but-you're-my-friend-and-I-feel-like-I-need-to-be-supportive tone.
"Well, I'm essentially stalking him, and I know that if someone were stalking me, I would be freaked out. Someone is stalking me, and I am freaked out."
"See, if someone were stalking me, I think I would just stalk them back. Then everyone would be happy."
"Yes, but unfortunately, it isn't working out that way for me. Crap." I put my head on the table. I felt like shit. "Where is everyone?"
"Well, Eric left the convention center to get better, cheaper food. I think other people might have gone with him." There was a short pause. "Are we the only tools who actually did what Mr. Casto told us to?"
"I doubt that there are only two tools in the jazz band."
"Who else would be enough of a tool to stay here?"
I thought. "...Valerie?"
"Not if breaking the rules is an excuse to follow RJ around."
I laughed. "Oh yeah. Schultz? No, he probably followed Eric. And Julian is probably avoiding me."
"Does he know that you're..."
"No! Yes! I don't know! I alternately get the impression that it's really obvious, he knows, and it freaks him out, and that he has absolutely no fucking clue. Damnit!"
"Damn what?"
"Everything. Damn everything."
Another short pause.
"Do you get the impression Eric has a thing for Liz?" Liz came to the performance today, since she goes to the college that hosted the competition. They were calling each other on their cell phones all morning.
"I think Eric has a thing for a lot of people," I said.
"And none of them are Alice," we both said at the same time. We laughed. "We should probably be careful. This room is definately very open to that hallway," I said.
At this point, I saw a very tall, very thin form in concert dress emerge from the hallway and walk into the cafeteria. I think I lit up. "Hey, you didn't abandon us!" I said. He sat down in a chair at the end of the table, next to neither one of us. "Have you been doing anything exciting?"
"No," he laughed. "Not at all. I bought a t-shirt, and people told me to go to music school." We talked for a while. I told funny stories, which he laughed at. Then the three of us decided to go do something. So we saw a couple of (amazing) high school bands, and then we saw the Berklee Concert Jazz Orchestra.
Holy. Motherfucking. God. It was the most mind blowing musical experience I've ever had. The kind of music that is probably a lot better than sex. The kind of music that makes you feel like shouting "I agree!" to certain improv licks. The kind of music that actually captures your entire soul and manipulates your mind like a drug. Music that you make noises in response to. Music that you can't even comment on after you've seen it. You can only exchange wide eyed, open mouthed stares. You know? Jesus, it was amazing. I have to be vulgar. Even this doesn't come close to describing it.
I started tapping my foot to the beat, and before I knew it, my whole body was moving back and forth. I was completely under the music's control. I looked over at Julian, and he was doing it too. Moving his body, his feet, his head, with the music, in response to the soloists. He had his eyes closed. I could actually physically see the emotional effect each note was having on him. He sat in the seat next to me. I was inches away from him. We were moving together to the music, being affected the same way.
It was too much. I wanted so, so badly... Agh, it was painful. I have to do something about this. I have to do something. But I don't know if I could take rejection. It seems like I'm stuck with this pain. This. Sucks.
Now I just feel like shit. My whole life, people have been telling me I have all this potential, and now I'm not an outstanding student and I'm not an outstanding musician, and it's all my fault. I don't practice, I don't do my homework, I procrastinate, I don't even read anymore. I sit around and do nothing or sit and stew in my shallow little thoughts and problems on this website. And I can't concentrate on anything, and I don't care about anything, because all that matters in the entire universe is some boy. I am exactly the kind of girl that my mother has spent inordinate amounts of time making sure that I wouldn't become. I have an incredibly obsessive, addictive personality, and I am nothing without something to be attatched to. I hate it, and I don't think I can fix it.
I have an Odyssey essay due Monday. We're supposed to have been working on it for a month, and I haven't started it yet. Why the hell did I take Odyssey if I'm not willing to put work into it?
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