(no subject)
I think my favorite thing about rain is how everything looks blue when it rains really hard. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I took Art Appreciation in college, too. It's something about atmospheric perspective or something like that, right? How the moisture in the air causes far-off things to appear hazy or bluish. I still like it, even if it is just an everyday thing. Of course my second favorite thing about rain is the awesome power that it harbors. Well, I guess that's true of water in general. It's funny how something so fiercely necessary for survival can kill us. Just like that. They say April showers bring May flowers, but what do February and March showers bring? Do they bring April showers? Tornadoes? Death and destruction? Life? Does it matter? Probably not. Not at all.
I'm glad I started writing in this old, forgotten journal. It gives me a chance to clear my head. Now I don't bother people with my inane thoughts. Well, I don't bother my pets with my inane thoughts. They seemed to be getting irritated. They also are the only things I talk to anymore, other than myself, which has been happening with increasing frequency and is really damn weird. This is unemployment. You talk to your pets, you talk to yourself, you take up running as a hobby because otherwise, you'd end up being fat during swimsuit season, which is just about as depressing as it gets, and I know depressing. Sure. That may seem shallow, but let me just say this. Everyone I know is engaged, married, or procreating ON PURPOSE. So I can quibble over what I look like as much as I damn well please, because I'm single and pretty sick of it.
Although, being single does free me up to go wherever the hell I want for whatever teaching job I can get. I'm hoping to get a middle school band job in Oak Ridge. Wouldn't that just be the shit? I loved teaching middle school. I also loved teaching high school, but that involves marching band, which is much more enjoyable as a prison guard than a prisoner, but will still take up all of your free time. Granted, I won't know anyone where I'm going, so my free time will be taken up with lesson plans and pathetic, old lady hobbies (knitting, crocheting, writing my will). So I might as well just teach high school. Anyway, I loved teaching middle school. Those little guys are so awkward. It's wonderful. AND they're totally clean slates when it comes to band. This means I can teach them basics like embouchure, counting, and style. Oh goodness. I can hardly wait.
It's strange. I decided to be a music major because I thought it was the only thing I was good at. It was between music and physics, my other love, so I chose the one that would pay the least. Yep. Go me. So I entered college thinking that one day I could be in the New York Philharmonic. Yes. Young people are very, very foolish. In high school, I was a big fish in, basically, a jar. Not even a pond. So when I moved to the pond, Tennessee Tech, my dreams were squished. I learned that clarinet players are EVERYWHERE, they're way more talented than I am, and there's no damn way I could ever possibly even think about making money with my instrument. I very quickly realized that music isn't about being the best. Music is so much more than that. It's politics. You piss off the wrong person, and you'll never play clarinet in this town again! Now, I never pissed anybody off, as far as I know. I was very diligent in making other people happy while I was in college. I'm actually very good at it. And it's funny, I like it. It makes me happy to make other people happy. Most of the time, I don't want the credit, at least not publicly. It bothered me when Hermy or Harris would call me out on stage to thank me at Festival. It just felt weird. Awkward. Maybe that's the Catholic guilt rearing it's face. You do it because you should, not to get credit, and even if you didn't ask for public thanks, you still feel guilty about it. Sorry. I just digressed really hard. You can do that, you know. So, I realized I won't make a living with my clarinet. That's okay. I didn't really like playing clarinet in symphony band or wind ensemble. I felt lost. The way Hermy treated us made me feel like if I wasn't the first chair, I was nothing. And you know what? I wasn't nothing. I wasn't great, but I was something. To be totally honest, (which I have been already and that expression is kind of baffling, really. It's like saying I've been lying this whole time) the only time I felt like I made a difference playing clarinet was in orchestra. I felt important. I felt like I wasn't total shit at clarinet. I played the hell out of those solos in Beethoven 6, and Mr. Allcott pushed us to listen to music more. Hermy never did that. No wonder Preston is so musically smart. He's been in orchestra for forever. He's been listening to music. I feel like I got the shaft sometimes, but that's alright. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if the New York Phil called me and said, "Hey. Can you fly to New York and play clarinet with us?" Well, I'd be there in a jiffy with no thoughts about saying no. But until then, I'd love to teach little kids.
I'm glad I started writing in this old, forgotten journal. It gives me a chance to clear my head. Now I don't bother people with my inane thoughts. Well, I don't bother my pets with my inane thoughts. They seemed to be getting irritated. They also are the only things I talk to anymore, other than myself, which has been happening with increasing frequency and is really damn weird. This is unemployment. You talk to your pets, you talk to yourself, you take up running as a hobby because otherwise, you'd end up being fat during swimsuit season, which is just about as depressing as it gets, and I know depressing. Sure. That may seem shallow, but let me just say this. Everyone I know is engaged, married, or procreating ON PURPOSE. So I can quibble over what I look like as much as I damn well please, because I'm single and pretty sick of it.
Although, being single does free me up to go wherever the hell I want for whatever teaching job I can get. I'm hoping to get a middle school band job in Oak Ridge. Wouldn't that just be the shit? I loved teaching middle school. I also loved teaching high school, but that involves marching band, which is much more enjoyable as a prison guard than a prisoner, but will still take up all of your free time. Granted, I won't know anyone where I'm going, so my free time will be taken up with lesson plans and pathetic, old lady hobbies (knitting, crocheting, writing my will). So I might as well just teach high school. Anyway, I loved teaching middle school. Those little guys are so awkward. It's wonderful. AND they're totally clean slates when it comes to band. This means I can teach them basics like embouchure, counting, and style. Oh goodness. I can hardly wait.
It's strange. I decided to be a music major because I thought it was the only thing I was good at. It was between music and physics, my other love, so I chose the one that would pay the least. Yep. Go me. So I entered college thinking that one day I could be in the New York Philharmonic. Yes. Young people are very, very foolish. In high school, I was a big fish in, basically, a jar. Not even a pond. So when I moved to the pond, Tennessee Tech, my dreams were squished. I learned that clarinet players are EVERYWHERE, they're way more talented than I am, and there's no damn way I could ever possibly even think about making money with my instrument. I very quickly realized that music isn't about being the best. Music is so much more than that. It's politics. You piss off the wrong person, and you'll never play clarinet in this town again! Now, I never pissed anybody off, as far as I know. I was very diligent in making other people happy while I was in college. I'm actually very good at it. And it's funny, I like it. It makes me happy to make other people happy. Most of the time, I don't want the credit, at least not publicly. It bothered me when Hermy or Harris would call me out on stage to thank me at Festival. It just felt weird. Awkward. Maybe that's the Catholic guilt rearing it's face. You do it because you should, not to get credit, and even if you didn't ask for public thanks, you still feel guilty about it. Sorry. I just digressed really hard. You can do that, you know. So, I realized I won't make a living with my clarinet. That's okay. I didn't really like playing clarinet in symphony band or wind ensemble. I felt lost. The way Hermy treated us made me feel like if I wasn't the first chair, I was nothing. And you know what? I wasn't nothing. I wasn't great, but I was something. To be totally honest, (which I have been already and that expression is kind of baffling, really. It's like saying I've been lying this whole time) the only time I felt like I made a difference playing clarinet was in orchestra. I felt important. I felt like I wasn't total shit at clarinet. I played the hell out of those solos in Beethoven 6, and Mr. Allcott pushed us to listen to music more. Hermy never did that. No wonder Preston is so musically smart. He's been in orchestra for forever. He's been listening to music. I feel like I got the shaft sometimes, but that's alright. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if the New York Phil called me and said, "Hey. Can you fly to New York and play clarinet with us?" Well, I'd be there in a jiffy with no thoughts about saying no. But until then, I'd love to teach little kids.