I've already blogged for the week, but I couldn't resist doing another one, so enjoy! I would love to get some comments, critiques, and suggestions for two of my other posts- "Target Down" and "Brown". Thanks!
Waking up my body screamed at me with exhaustion, mentally and physically I hurt, but that didn’t mean anything, it hadn’t for the last few days. I’d been trying purposely to get my knees to bend backwards, I hadn’t cared if I could feel muscles ripping when I stretched, but then again I never really do. I was bruised mentally and physically from a prior experience this week, but it wasn’t going to matter, I would not let it. I went back into the piano room where I had departed only to go to bed last night, and to take small breaks. I played the same things I have been for the past few months, after today I wouldn’t have to play most of them again. Quickly I hopped into the shower and then got dressed into my long red, Russian looking skirt and DownEast top and screwed my hair into a tight bun, and pulled my bangs of to the side. I managed to get two pieces of bacon down, brushed my teeth, grabbed my music, and went to the car. Hopping in I could feel some nerves trying to twitch through, but mostly I’m laughing with my mom about how desperate my whole family is for this to be over. Winding up the road to the browning center it’s hard for me to realize that I won’t be getting on the stage this time. That I wouldn’t be running downstairs into a crammed dressing room and putting on my point shoes. Instead I hike my skirt up and climb the stairs so I can go check in and then head up the next level to be seated in front of Practice Room number 2, which is closest to the end of the hall by the window. I have multiple memories of that window, both from the inside and outside and so I focus on them. I’m a bit nervous now, but mostly I’m just happy about how nice everyone is, that I finally get to perform, that this will be over with, and for what was coming later that afternoon. They send a little girl to sit with me who didn’t receive a time. They want to slip her in front of me and I enthusiastically agree to the arrangement. Silently laughing to myself that this eight year old is the epitome of fake confidence and teenager knows best, but she calms me down and silently goes through her folder and looks at her sight reading piece copying me. As the student comes out of the room, though I failed to see his expression, I stand up and bring the girl with me. Push comes to shove and they won’t let her slip in front of me, but that’s just because performing in front of your mother on level 1 would probably not be fair. So I wait and then go in after it’s all cleared up. I do my thing, I screw up a bit, I do really well for another bit. I sit there and laugh and talk with the judge, and then try to shake the nerves out of my fingers. Next comes sight reading and I head down the stairs laughing with my mom. I head to the same place as last year, a hallway by the lobby, and go over my piece. Someone walks into the hall and I look up to see if I know them. I don’t. They’re looking for a Taekwondo competition so I “unselfishly” agree to be their guide. I lead them downstairs. I don’t know where it is there looking for, but I knew that after hanging around this basement for eight years I probably could figure it out. I need to get away, and I’m always happy to go down there. But, I couldn’t find it, so I find my mom and pass them off to her. They found it eventually (they were in the wrong building). I find my friend and we chat. One after the other we play our piece and then we both leave. Now comes the fun part.
The Jensen Family shootout at the Mantua range. It was my first time shooting and I was ecstatic. My favorite was the AR 15, the big black one that I’m sitting down with. I also shot the 22 and apparently did well with that, but it wasn’t as much fun. The other fun one was the Kazool (spelled totally wrong), which was at one point the most powerful pistol in the world. Originally my cousin and I decided that it was a “we are too small to shoot gun”, but we did it anyways and after her experience that my grandpa decided he needed to hold me (and I am grateful, also there was another gun, but I can’t recall the name)! It was a ton of fun and a great rest of the day with my family!
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