Seasons of the Faire

Tonight, as I prepare for dress rehearsals and Friend of Faire, I think ahead to the last Friday in May. I think about not having to get ready for a weekend of crazy yet fun times for the first time in months. I think of getting to sleep in on Saturday, even if I may be working. I think of coming home on Saturday night from work and chilling on my front porch, watching the sun set, listening to cars pass and letting the dark settle in. I think of sleeping in on Sunday morning and having a day free of stuff.

But, I also think of every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday between now and then. I think of all the magic that will happen. I think of all the stories that we'll eventually be telling in the future. I think of the stories that will become myths and things we are famous for. I think of all the people we'll meet and things we'll do between now and then. I think of all the great people I'll get to work with. I think of all the great times.

That first Friday of being free after four months of getting ready for the weekend still seems far off. But, I don't really mind so much in the end.

It's all worth it.

♫Will you remember me,
Every season of the faire?♫

Getting to Happy

I had this interview last week, for a job in the media library downtown in the main branch of the system where I work. It's a great sounding job- working around music and dvd's, getting to do mostly reference work, and just chilling in a full-time job. 

One of the questions they asked was, "where do you see yourself in five years?" I said something to the effect of working in a music library. I don't see myself working in a library in five years, much less working so far from where I live.

I see myself still living in, or very close to, Denton. I love this town, it's quirkyness and eccentricities, and how close it is to so much, yet still retaining a small town feel. I've seen this place grow and change since I was a 14 year old freshman in high school, looking at the campus of UNT and saying that I too would walk those hallowed halls someday. Four years later, that was me and I've never looked back since. I've even said, "wow, they won't know all about this stuff" in relation to incoming students and new folks.

Ideally, I'd love a little house on a hill near the interstate where I could look down and see the lights of the city at night and listen to the hum of the traffic on the interstate, one of my favourite nighttime sounds. I'd love to have some acreage too and get into gardening. maybe can, pickle, preserve, maybe even have a root cellar.

I knit. I crochet. And maybe even do beading and quilling. Maybe I'll have finally learned how to sew and quilt too and my sewing machine has a great view of the garden. I write. Maybe I'll have finally published some great and wonderful story.

I'd love to be able to be in some job that I absolutely love and can't wait to get to work everyday. I want to, if possible, make my own schedule to some extent.

I'm probably still involved with faire and fencon and all that is fandom. I hope to be dancing more and going to bigger cons. I'd like to go back to aikido and at least become a black belt and still go on a regular basis. I'd like to have some really cool guy as a significant other. Maybe not kids yet, but adoption is always an option.

I cook a lot; at least a lot more than I do now. I have friends over. I'm more gregarious than I am now. I can actually talk back and not feel scared or like I have nothing to say or add to the conversation. I hold dancing house parties on an almost monthly basis. I have late night talks about whatever on the front porch with friends, slowly sipping on root beer out of bottles. Knowing me, I probably made it myself.

So yeah, happy. That's where I see myself five years from now.

I haven't heard back from the interview yet. I haven't heard from the other two jobs I applied for in the system. I want to have my weekends free come spring, but none of these jobs allow that. I want this to be the thing that catapults me into going back to school and eventually getting to all this stuff up there. I want this to be the thing that really gets me to happy. If that means hearing no, then fine. If it's yes and I can save, then that's fine too.

I just really want to be happy.

Is that really too much to ask?

♫give me what i deserve
cause it's my right ♫

It's a Show Day!

I stirred and woke up, wondering what town I was in now. Even in the darkness, I could sense and slightly see the drum major walk towards the door. The lights suddenly turned on, waking up the rest of the corps. 

"Good morning Pioneer!" she said. She told us where we were, that we had fifteen minutes before morning meeting and breakfast, and that today was a show day.

"It's a show day!" the red headed guard said, as she always did on such days. 

"Good morning Kendra," Nicole, another guard member, dutifully answered. 

And thus, our show day began. 

That was a typical morning on a show day. The other days were practice and show days. What were we doing?

Drum corps.

Tonight, I got to go to my show of the year, the Denton show as I call it. Ten years ago, I was one of those people, standing in the lot, playing for others. Getting up early. Practicing. Memorizing. Running. Performing. Eleven and a half minutes never flew by so quickly.

It was the summer of 2002 when I marched with Pioneer Drum and Bugle Corps out of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Pioneer is what was then referred to as a division one drum corps. These days, it's called world class. It all has to do with size. We had over a certain number of members, amongst other rules I'm sure.

The governing body of drum corps is Drum Corps International (DCI). They even call drum corps "marching's major league." In a way, it is. We all did eleven and a half minute shows on a football field. We marched, played music, and guard did flags, sabres, and rifles.

But, don't dare call it marching band. Because marching band it ain't!

Plus, there's no woodwinds. And people will get mad if you call it marching band.

freaking out, again

yeah, so i'm totally freaking out about scarby auditions. a little over five months away! i'm. fraking. scared.

this will be the norm in reference to this. the more i hear, the more i want to be part of it, yet the more freaked out about auditions i become.

why i want to be on scarby cast

i may start posting some things here so as to write more than what i can on my lj account on account of a person there. i kinda need to edit more there because of mentioning him and other people that he knows. or stuff i just don't want him to know. now. or ever. or yet.

here's one such post.

why i want to join the scarby cast

there's a certain magic about the cast of scarby. admittedly, i've been spoiled by them the past two seasons. this year especially. i really want to share that magic with others. i want them never wanting to leave or not being able to contain their excitment upon return visits. i want them to get season passes and friend of faire tickets. i was told several times one day that i was missed. i want patrons to feel that. to know that. to have fun in the lanes with a crazy cast of characters.

i'm ready to cross that line.

how long til january?

in which we are driven crazy by the writer and her insane need to leave her residence for another. plus, a song!

today is getting to be one of those days i wished i were elsewhere. sunday at church was like this too. it's just one of those things. summers make me feel that way anyway. but now, i feel like i just need to be collecting on my happiness or something along those lines.

sometimes, i think you just have to give fate a little push. i know i should be praying, which i am, but when the phone isn't ringing and no one is even admitting you're applying there, it's really hard not to. but, since i got a scholarship for doula training, it's like, that's where i'm supposed to be right now. back home in a great little town that isn't where i live right now. if only i could move there now and get a place to stay. too bad no one i know has a room for free in exchange for light housework and cooking.

when i was working the delic at a grocery store, there was this song i got really annoyed at cause they played it way too much. i remember the chorus:

i gotta back,
i do i do.
i gotta get back,
i do i do i do.

i really should go find that song. off i go then.

summer time dci blues

do you ever wonder if you made the right decisions in life? or rather, what would have happened if you went another way? it's not really a question of regret, but of what if?

me, i was just thinking, what if i had gone to play bass with the troopers and not plates (aka cymbals) with pioneer? wyoming that i know nothing about or milwaukee where we flipped off the planes from gen. mitchell airport and i flew over the land when i left.

first off, i wouldn't have know all the people i knew.

second, i wouldn't have known the one person i really don't like from that summer (hey, i really did have a dream about her where i beat her up and others had to restrain us!).

third, i wouldn't have quite the same memories.

i suppose it's something i shouldn't dwell on. hey, i got to do corps, which is something a lot of people never get to do. i even got to impress a coworker. right now, it's probably me just reminiscing and missing summers traveling and wanting to be out touring or something.

it's a summer i'll never forget. i've still got the scars to prove i was there. i even got the jacket and the memories. i should really put up those age out pics. i still remember this one night, probably in the fall, sitting in someone's room at bruce hall watching corps videos and getting in trouble for them being too loud.

rich he said, "wouldn't it be cool if we all marched next summer?"

yeah rich, it really was cool when we all did.