But, sometimes, they can just make you feel a certain way. Like today, I was wearing my absolute favorite jeans of all time. Not to go into too much detail, but they're dark, and kinda skinny, but not too much, and they have that perfect kind of new-worn feeling. So I put on the jeans, and actually said out loud, "I am wearing my favorite jeans today, and anything is possible." Then, standing there in front of the mirror looking like a dork, I mentally listed all the great things that were gonna happen that day, while admiring my new braces-free teeth. OK, so today I'm gonna find out if I made ASR (that's After School of Rock, doncha know) vocals, I'm gonna kick butt on my ASR guitar audition, I'm gonna have no homework because it's the day after a holiday and because it's FRIDAY, another reason to be happy. And then I'm gonna finish off an amazing day with my two best friends for our weekly "it's-Friday-let's-party" party.
It must've been a sight, too, me in my socks and AD/HD (not a typo – it's a joke on the AC/DC logo) and a stupid normal looking pair of skinny-jeans, but I was feeling confident that it was gonna be a good day.
That was at 6:10 am.
I got to school at 7:35 and was still feeling good, until I got down to the little courtyard area where the eighth graders wait for the bell to ring. That's when I find out that we can't go to Jehan's or Andrew's (those are my friends) house for our Friday party. I realize that my mom's not gonna be home so I assume that we can't go to my house, so I'm bummed about that. Strike one.
Then I get to math. My teacher's great and all, and she doesn't give weekend homework, so it's a given. Nope. I forgot that she assigned homework over the holiday, during which I could not work, so even though it's excused, I still have to do it this weekend. Strike two.
And, not only has math kept me from my no-homework weekend, but we have an evil butthead sub who I hate. Her name is Mrs. Browner, and who the heck would marry I her, I dunno. I actually had her for almost three months last year when my science teacher got STAFF and was out of school for an eternity. Strike three, you're out.
But no, why would fate stop there? Just because I've reached strike three doesn't mean more things can go wrong! On my way to second period, I find this stupid flyer in the eight grade hallway that says something like "IS YOUR NAME ON THIS WALL BECAUSE YOU CAN WIN A FREE iPOD???" then surrounded by about 10 papers with people's names. And then at the bottom, in like the smallest font possible, it says "or because you haven't turned in your New York emergency forms?"
Now, I know what you're thinking, if someone is actually still reading this, or if someone has read any of this at all: wait, New York? You're taking a field trip to NEW YORK??? Well, FYI, it wasn't something the school paid for: it's a $1,000 trip, and I had to help pay for it.
AAAAAAANYWAY... now I'm pissed because I turned in my forms the day after they handed them out, being the ochee I am (ochee = overachiever). AND MY NAME IS ON THE WALL. So as I rush to second period, History, I'm thinking, "OK, I gotta talk to her about that" (Her being my History teacher, who's in charge of the forms, and who I asked a day ago if she had my forms and said yes.) So I get there, and guess what? SHE'S NOT THERE EITHER. In fact, SHE'S NOT GONNA BE AT SCHOOL UNTIL TUESDAY. Strike, what is it now, five?
As you can see, I was not having the terrific amazing day I was hoping for. But wait. Third period holds hope: Band. I get to band, all happy that my braces are off and that I will now get first chair, no problem. OK, I actually already have first chair, but it was a close race between me and the only other trombone player. But I knew that with my braces off, I would be waaay better and keep my chair. NOPE!!! Turns out you have what Ms. Levy (who, by the way, is the coolest teacher that ever walked the earth) calls "fuzzy lip" for about two weeks after you get your braces off, because you basically have to re-learn how to blow a trombone. Yay... Strike six.
So, that doesn't look like much hope, now does it? Well on my way in, Ms. Levy pointed to the announcements board, where I see there is, amongst the pictures from last year's spring show, a list of names. The names of the ASR vocalists.
So, of course, not caring that the bell is going to ring any second now, I rush over to the board and look for my name on the list. I don't see my name...
BUT WAIT!!! THERE IT IS!!! AMONG THE TWENTY OTHER KIDS, THERE IT IS!!! MY NAME!!! Maybe the jeans are working after all!
Turns out I'm right. Not only did that happen, but despite my fuzzy lip, I did relatively well on my playing quiz and Ms. Levy said she'd curve my grade to accommodate my lack of good amateur (amateur = the way your mouth is positioned on the moutpiece. It's really important to get a good sound). Then I get to Media Production class and get stuff done, and I see a sitar!! Sweeeeeet. Unfortunately, Mr. Dempsey, my media teacher, wasn't helping my no-homework cause and gave us homework. But during "Power Hour" aka, Study Hall, I went to my ASR band audition and played "Here Comes the Sun" the best I've ever done, thanks to my guitar Dhani (named after George Harrison's son). And then Ms. Levy let me "tear down," which is just a cool way of saying put all the stuff away, which I actually like to do because I get to be in the band room and not in health class for 15 minutes.
Then on the bus, it all came together. I suddenly have this great epiphany that "Wait! My dad's gonna be home! Andrew can come over!" (since it was already too late for Jehan: we were already on our way on the bus, and Andrew rides my bus; Jehan doesn't.)
So Andrew comes over and we have a great time playing football, Mario Kart, eating pizza, and just hanging out.
And, y'know what? If I hadn't been wearing my jeans, maybe I wouldn't have kept up my optimism that I would have a great day.
Yeah maybe it's just a mindset, but y'know what else? The whole time, I felt good, because I was comfortable in my jeans. :D
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