Bigger is Better.

So I lost my job and now I've lost my apartment.  Luckily, my sister is taking me in...again.  Thanks sis!

When I made the big switch from Elementary school to Middle school I had to make a choice between Physical Education (PE), Choir, or Band.  I pictured PE as an hour long sprint that would no doubt leave me sweaty for the rest of the day so it was quickly dismissed.  Choir seemed pointless because I had already logged hundreds of hours in front of my mirror singing with my headphones on...no teacher could teach me to be a better singer I was sure.  Band seemed like a great choice, my parents didn't force me into piano lessons as a child so this was an opportunity to be able to say, "Yeah, I play _____, no big deal."

 So before 6th grade started we had to go to the big metal building that was used as the band room and select our instrument.  I had already decided I wanted to play drums because my Dad bought me a set for Christmas one year and I had yet to teach myself how to play them.  (Even with the Metallica book I had begged him to buy me.)  Unfortunately, all the boys with brothers in band had snapped up the four spots before I got there.  Then I was ushered into the flute room.  This just pissed me off, why would they think I was ok with playing the flute instead of the drums??  No, surely there would be something that would suffice my need to play the coolest instrument in the band.  American by birth, I firmly believe BIGGER is BETTER!  So, I chose the largest instrument available...the baritone.  The baritone is the little brother of the Tuba, I was promised that I would move up to the tuba in 7th grade band.  So I was happy, I wasn't playing the drums but I had a huge horn and I was excited for the year to start so I could learn how to play it.

I got to take my baritone home that night and I was ready on the First Day to get it back into the band room so my parent's tax dollars could pay for my lessons.  The bus pulled up and I grabbed my horn, ready to board.  WHAM!  It wouldn't fit through the door so I had to turn it on it's side.  I climb up the stairs and quickly search for a seat.  I would need a completely vacant one because my horn and I wouldn't leave much room for another body.  Mine was the last stop on the route to school so there were no empty seats and the seat with the most room was located at the center of the bus.  Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack!  My horn smacked against every seat on the way.  Getting off the bus was just as bad except the person in front of me was the only one who got hit.  By the time first period was over I was sick of lugging it around.  It would be another month before we were allowed to keep one at home then use another at school.  Luckily, my sister got a car about a week into the school year so the students on the bus only had to deal with the baritone assault for a few days.

The year went by smoothly and I excelled in band.  I believe I only sat in the Second Chair once, I was the only girl in my class but I got along with the boys alright. 

Band camp was mandatory to make the move to 7th grade band and I was ready.  It would be my first time on a college campus and I couldn't wait to see where the "College Kids" lived. 

I was horrified.  The rooms were filthy...communal showers?!?  Also, the school was built with tons of different buildings to accommodate classrooms instead of one big building.  I was way out of my element.  I hadn't planned to carry that awful baritone around a college campus.  It was in the middle of the summer so it was about 100 degrees and 100% humidity.  I spent the whole week of band camp drenched in sweat and angry about carrying that instrument.  I didn't return to band in 7th grade and I learned that Bigger is certainly NOT Better.