Looking at the stars, with a smile on my face but tripping over my feet.

I've only been up sixteen minutes, and already I'm knocking things over.

I am not the most graceful of beings. In fact, the only time I was EVER graceful was when I was performing in Color Guard. Believe it or not, I was in contact with something inside myself when I was performing. The girly-girl seemed to surface when I put on the make-up, bodysuits, and finally my uniform then I grabbed my TWO flags, and rifle. Because, when you're on rifle line, you only usually use two to three flags, whereas flag line uses three to four. I was such a performer. It was like I was born to do it and I would always do it with my head held high 'cause I was proud of it.

I'll never forget the last competition that I ever took part in. It was also my "older sister's" last performance as well. It was what we thought was the best one of our lives. We all came off the field crying, and hugging each other, and I'll never forget the last note that was played, because as the band hit their last note, we hit our last pose and it stopped, suddenly. (I'm getting the chills I use to get on the field as I remember this). The five seconds later, one of our Band Directors yelled "THAT WAS THE ONE!" And we all just smiled, and had tears running down our faces, smearing our mascara.

There's this feeling that you'll hear members of the Marching Band talk about. They'll all tell you the same thing, "There's this feeling you get before you walk on the field, it's like you gotta pee, but when you get out there and take your opening set position, it goes away and everything fades. It's just you, the Drum Majors, the Music, and the Guard, the audience doesn't matter. And when you're performing, you forget to breathe. Everything is so perfect for seven to eight minutes. But when the last note is played there's this feeling that rushes over you like the waves in the ocean take away the sand from the beach and replace it, that's what it's like in your soul, you shake and finally exhale. Then you walk off, and it's just-you can't explain it, you'll see." And it's the truth. You have to experience it to feel it. It's a natural high.

But that last performance, before we made the long walk down the side of the school in Centerville, OH., we were warming up, it was a speedy warm-up cause the band before us took FOREVER getting off of the site. When we finally did, the flags did some drop spins, tosses, and the rifles didn't warm up on flag at all, we all took our weapons and walked away from them, doing some exercises, rights, lefts, flat taps, and tosses. I tossed a strap-toss so hard that my strap broke and I had to find tape. Of course, the only people that carry tape are those that are in Drumline. So, I had to find a director with tape. I still have my black taped rifle strap. I kept it as a souvenir.

I'm not graceful anymore.