One of the freshmen in my trumpet section is named Eddie and every time I want to ask him to do something or mockingly scold him, I love to yell “EDWARD!!!” until he complies… welp, I found out last that his name isn’t even Edward. It’s literally just Eddie. Not short for anything. … That’s really depressing. :/

*WHISPER YELLS* I’ve been posting like a madwoman about my latest band trip shenanigans/misadventures/random musings (the week before last my band went to Disney!) on my main blog (quaddle) under the tag “ANUS ANNIHILATOR!” so if for some reason you might be interested in what I have to say feel free to go check it out… (some of it’s actually kind of interesting I swear LIKE THE TRUMPET PLAYER WHO JUMPED OFF A THE SECOND FLOOR OF A BUILDING AFTER TAKING A SECTION PICTURE DON’T WORRY HE WAS SOMEHOW COMPLETELY FINE)

(I’ll prolly be reposting some of the better posts here when I’m done dumping it all out diary-style over there, but I figured since this is my band blog and all it’d be relevant to tell y’all!)

At our last band practice we stepped up our game and instead of just playing card games like BS and President for hours until we started (which, admittedly, has been epicly fun and has won me toooons of new friends and enemies ;P), we decided to play Sardines! We let the hider go anywhere in the school… buuuuut even though we had twelve people playing, after forty minutes we still hadn’t found him. … Good thing he elected to come out of hiding himself before much longer because he totally would have missed practice because of our incompetent seeking skills. XP

Our director always makes fun of people in our band who lift their knees too high when they march, yelling at them “We’re not in Ohio State here!” (after an amazing band that famously uses that technique) and I guess our new assistant director didn’t understand the reference because after about the third time he said it one night— six months into the school year— he tapped the kid next to him on the shoulder and whispered, clearly distressed, “Can you please explain to me the hell does Ohio has to do with anything?”

So my assistant band director Mr. Blumenthal has about a million different nicknames (most of which he actually even knows about!) from B-Thizzle to Blumedaddy to Blumebaby to simply Bloom…. do you have any affectionate nicknames for your directors?

Harmon mutes are my favorite kind because you can stick them against your eye and look through the hole at the end and pretend like you’re a pirate scout peering out of your telescope BD

(is it embarrassing that I have actually done that on multiple occasions)

At our performance the other night my sister asked me to take a picture of her and I hate taking pictures so I shamelessly pawned the task off on the first random friend I could pull aside, and then that friend and I got to talking about picture-taking and I relayed the epic tale of how I bought a new camera specifically for our band trip two years ago, took hundreds of pictures throughout the week,  and got home super excited to upload all my great pics online… except by that time I had already lost the camera’s charging cord so it died and I could do nothing for weeks until I found the cord— and proceeded to immediately lose the camera. Whoops.

So the jazz band was the last group to play at our fundraiser the other night and we were told we were going on soon, so we were all sitting around in the practice room waiting for further word. I was sitting next to my friend Scott and we were doing the usual band shenanigans, playing dumb riffs on our trumpets, reminiscing about hilarious marching season memories, making jokes and telling stories, when my sister came up. She was getting antsy and asked if we were going on soon because she wanted to leave.

Before I could say anything, Scott blurted out “You can’t leave! Jenna has a solo!”

My sister looked genuinely surprised, saying “I didn’t know that!”

Excitedly, Scott added “And she sounds really good!”

I clapped him on the shoulder and laughed “That’s my boooooy!” but seriously I thought that was like the sweetest thing ever and it made me so so happy~ <3 <3 <3 <3

I AM SHOCKED AND APPALLED

 THE BASS PLAYER IN MY JAZZ BAND— WHOSE GREASY LOCKS HAVE EARNED HIM THE (UNOFFICIAL, AND SOLELY FROM MY POINT OF VIEW) YEARBOOK SUPERLATIVE “MOST LIKELY TO SELL YOU DRUGS BEHIND THE SCHOOL THEN KILL YOU AND HIDE YOUR BODY IN THE DUMPSTER” (“I had no idea who he was… but after telling me that I know exactly who you’re talking about”)— HAS COMPLETELY SHAVED HIS HEAD

I LITERALLY HAVE NO IDEA TO REACT I MEAN WHO’S GOING TO BE OUR RESIDENT FILTHY-LOOKING WANNABE MURDERER NOW

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