And this is why I don't let people touch my instruments

A while back, when I visited him in college, I promised my friend that I would give him a mini-concert with something I had prepared. I had doubted that we would have time, but as it happened, we did. I promised again that next time I saw him I would play for him.

Since he was home for Thanksgiving, we decided to get together yesterday, and I took him with my family to get our Christmas tree. A new experience for him, I think, with him being Jewish. Afterward, he wasted no time in making me take out my oboe and give him a concert. (I did; I'll be honest, it was terrible. I apologize if he's reading this.) 

My double case was sitting out, with my English horn in it. He picked up the top two pieces, and after a minute of confusion, started to fit them together. While he was attempting to put on the bell, he did what a lot of oboists (and I would assume clarinetists, as it's basically the same thing) do: use your hip or pelvic bone as a sort of "floor" to press the pieces against to more easily put them together.

Except, it wasn't quite his pelvic bone that he was using. I can sum it up with what he said: "I am slowly destroying my children." As is typical, I was quite literally rolling around laughing. 

I don't think he found it as funny as I did.

Of all times, it had to break now.

In an attempt to make myself excited for All-State, rather than just terrified, I decided I may as well be prepared and listen to some recordings of what we're playing. Well, it worked, until I went back to practicing my part.
Now it's all back to fear.
Sometime between now and this coming Tuesday, this English horn needs some repairs. My left hand Eb key is tapping other keys when I press it (which is quite often) and its location just feels very, well, wrong.
The likelihood of this actually happening, on a scale of 1-10, is somewhere near zero. No matter how desperate my situation, a student oboist will have to wait if there's a professional who needs repairs. If there's one thing I've learned so far in my relatively scant years of playing, it's that. Though, I may as well try.

Monetary Misery

Honestly, the number of times I've been told "Don't do that" or "Maybe music education?" or "Yeah, a double major is better, that way you'll at least have a job" is far, far beyond ridiculous.

I don't quite understand why people whom I've never spoken with before feel the urge to tell me that I'm doomed to live in a cardboard box on the side of the road by leaning toward music performance. Yes, I'm well aware that it's a difficult field - do you not think that I've already considered that? Sometimes it just makes more sense to go with what you want than what may provide you better. 

At least, that's what my view is.

For the longest time (okay, less than a year, but still) I would say "Science and music double major" whenever someone asked what I was thinking of doing in college. Science would be the backup, something I've long enjoyed and have been good at. But, I know if I don't make music my profession, I'm going to eventually cease playing. I need something to practice for, and I've played with some of the community orchestras around here. Trust me: been there, done that, not going back, and trying to forget what it sounded like. If I'm an adult and employed in the sciences, I'm going to lose passion for it, and that is something I'd rather die than have happen.

Well, maybe not die, but I don't want to do it. I feel as though stopping playing is the same idea as stopping living - worse than death, perhaps? I know not. But at the very least I'll be losing touch with a part of myself that I think is closest to my truest core.

My teacher's friend's daughter (easy enough to follow, I think) had the same decision I'm starting to lean to: she ignored all advice telling her to find a backup, and poured herself into the music. Now, she's a Metropolitan Opera star with jobs here in New York and San Francisco (likely depending on who pays more). I find this admirable, and it's definitely weighing more in my thoughts than it has previously. I feel more at home in music situations than I do in those that are science-related. I enjoy science, I'm good at it, but I don't think it's where I'm going to be happiest.

Let's hope I'm right.

Well, thanks... I think.

Today, as with every Monday, was the orchestra rehearsal at the community college.
Normally, woodwinds and then strings separately get a five to ten minute break, where the other section gets a sort of sectional rehearsal. I have a small group of people I know I usually talk with while we're on break. Unfortunately, every single one of them was absent.
After a few minutes of rather awkward standing on my own, I spotted the second oboe talking with a group of people I've spoken with occasionally, and a couple I'd never seen before. I went over and jumped into the conversation: they didn't mind.
After a minute, one of the people I didn't recognize turned to me and said, "I love your oboe playing! It almost makes me want to cry!"
That's not the first time I've been told that, oddly enough, but it was still rather peculiar. A few minutes after that, she mentioned how she had seen me at a local production of Hamlet during a summer Shakespeare festival, on the line to the ladies' restroom, of all places. She said how she saw me and thought I looked familiar, but couldn't place it. I laughed; that sort of thing happens to me all the time. I didn't think until later that I had previously thought I had never met this girl before.
Well, ... I guess that's what having all the solos gets you: people knowing you, while you've never before met them.
Odd.

Who am I?

I'll leave the philosophy for another time, and instead give a brief background on my musical history, so all of you know who you're working with.
Currently, I'm hoping to earn a Bachelor's in music performance once I reach college, and then likely a Master's in education. Where? Who knows. We'll see when I get there.
I started playing in fifth grade, though it was the summer before (summer of '05, I believe). When I was in seventh grade, I joined my first orchestra at a local conservatory. Though it was disbanded because of a lack of players after two years, it was still a great experience and I still play with a few of the people I met there. Like the majority of musicians in my area, I played in All-County, as second oboe underneath a guy, whom I'll call James as he doesn't exactly know he's being mentioned, whom I'll be playing with in two weeks in All-State. The following year I positively bombed my audition (I hated the piece I was playing) and was invited to All-County band - I declined, and wasn't invited to go back to a NYSSMA festival until this year. (I still swear they took it personally.)
My freshman year, I joined a local orchestra at a community college in the area, and have been with them since. That year I picked up English horn after a piece we were playing contained an English horn part for the second oboe. I've loved it ever since.
The same year, instead of the chamber orchestra at the conservatory, I played with a violin, bassoon, and harpsichordist in a baroque ensemble, which continued until my sophomore year. The second year, however, we exchanged the bassoonist for a cello and got a different piano/harpsichord player. I was re-invited to play another year and denied, and am instead in a woodwind quintet (thus far, I much prefer it).
I've played in various pits around the county and in my school district. I've even managed to get paid for a few - not a bad deal, in my opinion. I'm still surprised that I can be considered good enough to be paid for playing. I underestimate myself on a regular basis.
I'm now first chair in the orchestra at the community college, and am teaching two other students at my school who are interested in taking up oboe and becoming better players.
That's about all I can think of for the moment.