High School, Pt. 1

This is one of those posts that I know I'll get crap for from those of you that don't understand, but for those of you that do get where I'm coming from will appreciate the throwback.

I did something tonight that I've done a handful of times in the past 5 1/2 years since I've graduated high school (has it really been that long?!)...I drove past Pope to see if the band was practicing. Not that I would know a soul out there, with the exception of Mr. Gary Gribble himself, which I'm sure would have depressed me because in my mind, I was kind of a big deal among the Pope Marching Band and only knowing 1 person out of 130ish people is just a sad situation to walk into. Regardless, I drove past only to realize that they probably have reached the end of their competition season and wouldn't be the praticing the whole 3hours on a Thursday night.

Like I have so many times before, I got the urge to reminisce. I had already been listening to my CD with songs from the OC and All American Rejects, so I was already feeling nostalgic. Combine fall weather, old school music, and driving through my high school parking lot...Thoughts of high school were inevitable.

Unlike most people that I am friends with now, when I think of high school, I think of marching band and color guard. You see, that was my life. And I loved it. Every bit of it.

This was a normal day for me in high school: Wake up at 6 AM, get to school by 7:15 for a club meeting, leadership meeting or group project and then hang out in the band hall until homeroom. School from 8ish until 3:30. Hang out in the band hall until 4 while I waited for traffic to die down. Drive home, eat dinner/a snack, do homework and head back to school no later than 5:00 so I could get to school with plenty of time to help the younger girls practice before practice. Practice with the band or winter guard (depending on the time of year) until 9, but not actually leaving school until 9:30 because I would have to stay after to pick up, meet with section leaders, etc. When I'd finally get home, I would finish up on homework and/or talk to boyfriend (insert name here) on the phone. Repeat. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. All school year, with the exception of 2-3 weeks. We had football games every Friday night, practices, sectionals, or competitions most Saturdays and Sundays. I didn't know what "free time" was. But the thing is is that I was passionate about what I was doing and so were the people I was with. I loved performing. I loved practicing. I just loved it.

After I got home tonight, my parents and I watched a handful of old shows (leaving a few of the less popular ones out of the mix) while talking and laughing about traveling for countless shows, crazy props, long rehearsals, and of course some injuries from along the way.

If you weren't in marching band, (and not just any marching band, but a good one) then you just wouldn't get a single sentence from this post and probably think I'm an even bigger dork than you already thought I was right about now. But I know I still have a handful of you that could, at a moments notice, chime in if someone started saying "Good, Better, Best" and finish that phrase.

All of that to say, I loved high school. And I say forget the 10 year reunion, I think we just need to have a SYNR band reunion...or just relive high school for a week and then go back to the real world? Just a thought?