I keep my french horn in its case sitting near my dresser. I keep telling myself that I should put it away since I don’t play it anymore, but I don’t have the heart to shove it in a closet. I will pick it up again… one day. Right now it just makes me sad to realize how much I suck, when I put in so much hard work to be GREAT!

I still mess around on our piano, but it’s so out of tune and my parents won’t get it tuned since I’m moving out here soon. No one else in the house plays like I do.

My guitar is on it’s stand… gathering dust. It needs new strings, because the ones that are on it are so old it won’t stay in tune for even 5 minutes.

*sigh* My instruments are a mess. I’m sure my french horn needs a lot of work when I get the guts to take it out of its case.

But speaking of french horn and my glory days, I completely forgot that there is a recording I did with the entire horn studio my freshmen year in music school that is still up on the school website! If anyone is a fan of James Horner or the movie Titanic… zomg… this is for you. It’s a piece called ‘Titanic Fantasy” and it was actually arranged for 15 french horns by James Horner himself! If anyone is interested in listening to it… here’s the link!

Titanic Fantasy

I remember the night we recorded this… it was late wednesday night, before Thanksgiving. We were all anxious to get done so we could go home for break. We didn’t finish in the studio till about 11 and we had started around 7 or 8. I was thrilled to be able to experience what it is like to record something professionally. It was a lot of hard work and my face felt like it was going to melt off, but it was worth it when we finally heard the ending result. My professor said he was eventually going to put together a CD of all the stuff that his horn studio has recorded over the years and he was definitely going to feature our song on it. So who knows.. maybe in a couple of years I’ll be on a CD!

I was in a car accident. Exactly 2 years ago from August 20th of this year. I was at a time in my life when everything was right where I wanted it. I was happy, content. I had just completed the hardest year of my music career and was nearing the end of the perfect summer. I was excited about starting a new semester and living with 3 roommates in our new apartment. I really had no complaints.

I’ll always remember that day. No matter how many years will pass. I woke up with a list of stuff I needed to do already forming in my head. I was proud of the way I had my life organized. 2 years as a music major in college was teaching me a lot about time management. I had to finish painting the downstairs wall red before I could go practice my audition pieces that needed to be ready the next morning. It was about 5:00 in the evening when I ran out of paint. I was eager to finish since school was starting back up the next day. I made a quick trip to Wal-Mart that turned into more of a hassle than I had wanted.  Bought the damn paint and started back home when it happened. I was a block away from my house when I was hit on the driver’s side by a Yukon going about 55 miles a hour. He ran a stop light at the exact time I was going through the intersection. The impact sent me spinning until I struck a fire hydrate. He seemed to barrel through me without even a second thought. The red paint had hit the windshield and exploded all over the inside of the car and myself. I remember my chest was on fire and I couldn’t move my legs. It was several minutes before help arrived. I was stuck in the car until firemen arrived to cut me out. They took me to the ER where I spent the next several hours undergoing x-rays and tests to make sure nothing was damaged. I could relay so many details about that night. How the ER smelled, the noises, what I experienced. It is the most horrific thing I have ever had to experience. Even after two years the nightmare of it all still seems to effect me.

So much has changed since that night. I missed my audition along with the first week of classes. It was decided after several weeks of trying to make it work that my music was to be shoved onto the back burner. That decision alone was enough to break my spirit. I had never had to admit defeat… on anything in my life. My pride was wounded. I felt like a failure. I tried so hard to carry on with my course load and my practicing. But I wasn’t getting enough sleep or eating healthy due to the stresses of trying to catch up to the rest of my studio. I was forced to drop down to 2 classes and I spent all my time in an empty apartment with nothing to do but watch tv and sleep. I fell into a deep depression. I could sit and stare at the wall for hours and never really notice. My family realized something had to be done when I was home for christmas break and all I wanted to do was cry. They forced me to go see a therapist when I returned to school for the spring semester. I tried to resume my course load but found it too overwhelming. My weekly sessions with my therapist were helping a great deal. She was helping me to cope with my feelings of grief and sorrow over my misfortune. I wish I could say I was cured. But so many things remind me of what has happened to me. Because of my wasted year I was forced to move back home. I’m going to school for psychology instead because too much time has passed with me not studying music. It would take far too long to work back up to the level I was at before my accident. I resent each bad thing that happens here because it just reminds me that I am here because of the accident. Every argument I have with my mother. Every bad day at work. Every obstacle I am faced with. My legs still hurt from my injuries and I know I will have these pains for the rest of my life. I think about the friends I havent seen or spoken too since I’ve left and I get so much more angrier. I think about where I would be now if I hadn’t been at that intersection, and the answer just makes me even more sad.

Not a night goes by that my mind doesnt drift to that day, and I’m thinking about my accident all over again. It makes me cry even harder because it makes me feel weak. I should be moving on with my life. But everything just reminds me of what I’ve lost and what I’ve been through. Nothing is black and white anymore. It all leads back to that day and I hate myself for it. My parents think I’m strong and all I feel is weakness. Things that make me cry, make me want to cry even harder because I just feel like none of it would have ever happened if the accident hadn’t happened. How is anyone supposed to overcome that? This feeling of grief and resentment. I have this heavy feeling that nothing will ever be like I thought it would be. I feel that every bad mood or feeling I have burdens me twice as much.

And what makes this all even worse is the fact that no one knows about any of this. Because if they knew, all I would hear is how I can’t let this accident run the rest of my life. I have to let it go and move on.

My mother and I got into a fight today. She is the manager at the restaurant I work at… and I am her assistant manager. I discussed something with her today at the store and she got mad about it when we were home. She said I attacked her and that I don’t know what I’m talking about because I’m not there all the time. My problem was that she was bringing it up… again… while we were at home. She’s my mother at home, not my manager. Of course it turned into this huge thing where it made the rest of my family mad. My grandparents are visiting from Pittsburg and I hated for them to witness us fighting so I ran upstairs real fast before they could see that I was crying. But once I got into my room all I could think was that this wouldn’t be happening if I were in Louisville where I belonged. If that accident wouldnt have happened I would be at school and there would be no fighting. I feel so alone all the time in my house. When my sister is upset and crying, my mother is always in her room to comfort her. When it’s me in my room crying, they all forget that I’m upset or they don’t care.

I’m just so confused with all that I’m feeling. I just wish someone could help me feel less confused.

I’ve been telling myself that I was going to write a new and interesting post for the last 2 weeks. But when it comes to the interesting part, I’m stumped. I could write about how interesting work HASN’T been and all that jazz, but I’ll spare you the boring details.

Music. Music has been a part of my existence for as long as I can remember! It started with a piano and trips to Grandma’s house. I was amazed at the sounds that would come from it when you hit the keys. For awhile my cousin Becky tried to teach me Mary Had A Little Lamb, but I was only 5 and had the smallest attention span ever! Cousin Becky was my idol. She could play the piano and the flute! Wowza! So spending time with her was always a highlight of my childhood.

The first official thing I learned to play was the C Major scale. To anyone who is familiar with music that would be the most basic fundamental scale out there. I was so proud of myself when I first walked my fingers up the keyboard without making a mistake. “Mommy what’s next?!” I always asked. She said she would teach me something new next week and of course the next day the same question popped out.

When we moved to Kentucky my grandmother gave us that piano as a housewarming gift and Mom started looking for piano teachers. I started lessons when I was 8 and I even got to leave school early every Tuesday to take them. Oh yeah I was special. When I hit middle school I started playing the trumpet in Band. My twin sister and I were flower girls in my Aunt and Uncle’s wedding and they hired a trumpet player for the ceremony. I was enthralled from the moment the rehearsal started.

Shortly after my trumpet career, my piano lessons ended. I remember being so upset. My twin sister was taking them too and she never enjoyed it like I did. So she told my mother she wanted to quit so mom told our teacher we were both quitting. I remember a lot of yelling and a lot of crying that day.

My trumpet career only lasted 2 years. 2 great years I might add! I was the best trumpet player in 6th grade AND 7th grade. Before my 8th grade year started my band director wanted me to switch to the French horn. At first I thought that was the worst idea ever. I loved my trumpet and I loved always being at the top. (Who doesn’t?) But I gave it a shot and it turned out I liked it a lot better than my trumpet.

I played my French horn through the rest of middle school and all through high school. I had pretty much decided I was going to college for music when I was a sophomore. And I already had my university picked out. My parents bought me a brand new French horn when I graduated. The one I had been playing was on loan to me from the school. French horns are uber expensive and they didn’t expect my parents to pay for something they demanded I switch to. But I finally had a horn of my own. It sparkled. It shined. It made a wonderful sound. I was on cloud 9!

My time spent as a music student wasn’t all bad, but it wasn’t all good either. For one music majors have a lot more on their plate than an average college student. On top of the general education requirements we have to fulfill we have a ton of music requirements to fulfill as well. While some students my age were taking math, english, biology, history, and maybe a religions class… I was taking english, history, music theory (1out of 4), intro to music, private lesson, marching band rehearsal, symphonic band, French horn ensemble, piano class (1 of 4), recital attendence, brass class, and some other stuff I can’t even remember now! I would get up at 7 and have classes and rehearsals till at least 6 or 7. And then I would have to start on the mountains of homework I had AND not to mention the 3 hours of private practicing time I was required to do everyday. The only thing positive I can say about the whole experience is that I learned to manage my time AND the semester went by fairly fast.

So if I was doing wonderful with my music load, why don’t I have a degree in music by now? Well the answer is one of sadness and understanding. I was in a car accident the night before my junior year started. I wish it were as simple as a fender bender. A guy ran a red light and T-boned my little toyota corolla. I’ll spare the details, thats for another entry. But it ended my music career. I can play now no problem since its been almost 2 years since the accident. But I’ve been forced out of the music loop for so long, it would take me awhile to get back to where I was when I was practicing 3 hours a day. It’s sad since music was always a part of my life for a long time. But it’s ok because during this time I’ve learned that I have other interests that define me. A degree in music would be nice but it is not necessary. In fact, there is very little I can do with that degree and one thing I have always wanted is a degree that works for me. I don’t want to look back on my school years and regret the choices I made because I’m struggling to find a solid career so I can provide for my family.

Everyday I think about where I would be now if that accident hadn’t happened. What kind of music I would be playing and what level of difficulty I would be at. But no regrets. The past is the past and the only thing I can do is look to the future. I’m pursuing a degree in psychology and I’m hoping to return to my university in about a year. (I moved back home and am attending the local community college). I’m happy, healthy, and excited for what the years will bring. But as for music… I still have my piano and my French horn that isn’t so shiny anymore. Nor does it sparkle. But it still makes that beautiful sound.

“ Music is what feelings sound like. ” – unknown