Well the plan for hometown throwdown involved a car of 7 enthusiastic young adults, and other people at the destination… like Lauren. But then stuff got in the way, like work, and wisdom teeth and people deciding to go to Hong Kong. As a result, our car load dwindled to three. Sarah, Brad and I made the trek to Panania, with only one navigational stuff-up on my part.
Our trial did not end there. Upon reaching the fence, we were stopped by guys from Winter’s Underground, who wanted to sell us their cheap tickets. So that was more unnessecary brain using as we tried to work out how to get correct change.
But in the end it wasn’t that bad. Sarah knew people working the BBQ, and Katherine and other Lauren from Narwee Baptist were there. And so was my brother’s friend, and some kids from my church, and random people that were at stump, like crazy Tommy. The music was cool, Sounds Like Chicken were mad, but I wouldn’t stalk them – the trombone man is too scary, and they live in Melbourne. On the plus side, they had a song about Pirates. Sarah and I did the Octopus Dance on a massive scale while we were waiting for Crying Out Loud to set up, and the night finished with them not being able to play extra songs. How lame. Their concerts have shrunk in length 😦 But their coolness has not shrunk at all 😀
And then we drove all the way back to Brad’s McDonalds and went through the drive through to order a paper bag and a napkin to wrap his present in.
Tonight was IMP night… last one ever. Us year 12 orchestra kids got to play a piece we’d only played once before, which was very exciting. Me and Sarah and Nadia went to the back of the hall to dance away the Stage Band’s last two pieces and were joined my a hoard of year 7s, 8s and 9s. I didn’t help pack up, cause there were too many random people to say goodbye to. It sort of worries me that I’ll never get to play music with other people ever again, unless I sacrifice my dignity and join some random community band – a path I have absolutely no desire to follow. So, I guess that’s it, and now my flute will just stay under my bed and gather dust for a few months. And then I’ll pick it up again later on, and search for screwdrivers so I can put my wandering screws back, and make a noise that sounds like wind, and then it’ll go back under the bed for awhile. And to think that at one stage, I would practice for an hour every afternoon, because I believed it was of utter importance that I passed grade 5 flute.