the thrilling life of a new adult

well.

i'm done.

it's over.

like, for real. I am a high school graduate. When did that happen?! I know I have been complaining for, like, 13 years about getting out of here but it all happened in a blur and here I am! At work. Watching the clock, hoping 5 rolls around faster so I can go home. Ah, yes. Adulthood. Exactly as I imagined it would be.


I also woke up on Tuesday freaking out (typical)because I suddenly realized that I just began the rest of my LIFE. I just opened a new chapter which includes going to college, dating attractive return missionaries, marrying one of those hawt return missionaries, having a kid or two, graduating college....like, seriously. This stuff will probably all happen to me within the next decade. I realize it's happening, but it still hasn't hit me. I still think I'm going to go back to Queen Creek High School in July and start up another year. It is so surreal.


And part of me wonders if it will ever really "hit me". Do you notice you're getting older as it's happening? Or do you only notice once it passes you by? It seems like just yesterday I was going to Queen Creek graduation my sophomore year for orchestra and watching my "grown up" friends don their purple n' gold cap and gowns and walk across the stage, and I missed them and we cried and then they left and it was over and it really did feel like it would take a lifetime for me to get there. Aaaaand apparently it ran past me so quickly that I barely even noticed. It was like ten seconds had passed and suddenly I was wearing that purple cap and gown and walking across the stage.


The day of graduation I had to get up early. Graduation rehearsal was at 8 am and attendance was mandatory. So I rolled out of bed and stood alphabetically- Hegel, Haws, Harris- with my two line buddies and we sat in our rows and the kids complained about how totally laaaame the principal was and how totally lame getting dressed up for a graduation ceremony was (how dare the school tell us we have to look nice for theonly high school graduation we'll ever have. Those monsters. ) and how they were so tired and wanted to go home and then graduation practice was over. So we went home and I curled my hair all nice and put on my fancy dress I had acquired for the occasion. And then I went to put on my cap and gown and that's where I felt a little weird. Like, aren't I just a baby? They don't let babies graduate. There must be a mistake.

But then I looked in the mirror and I was this 18 year old who had not just gone to high school but finished. And I wasn't a baby- I was really tall and was capable of driving a car by myself and had a job. And suddenly I realized I was COLLEGE BOUND in a few short months. And then my mom told me it was time to go.

So I got dropped off to go early with orchestra. We rode the bus and exchanged stories about our orchestra adventures from the past few years. And I had this pain in my chest when I thought about how I technically wouldn't be a member of Queen Creek High School Orchestra and that I wouldn't be orchestra president anymore.....and how it was literally hotter than the depths of Hell on that bus and my dress apparently wasn't very breathable because I was sweating like a pig.

So we finally get there and we do sound checks and talk and remenisce and we take our senior group picture with Mrs. Payne. And then the teacher tells us it's time for us to leave to go join the other graduates and well, you know, graduate.

I join my line buddies in HarrisHawsHegel formation and we walk into the arena to the tune of Pomp and Circustance being played by some of my closest friends. And my face is on this ginormous jumbotron and I wave.

We're finally sitting and the speeches start. They're funny and encouraging and poignant, and I feel so sad that I don't feel sad at all. Then it's my turn to leave the crowd of graduates for one last song with the little orchestra that had been my musical family for the past three years.

AND CAN I TAKE A BREAK REAL QUICK TO JUST SAY THAT MY CELLO WAS OUT OF TUNE SO I HAD TO FAKE PLAY MY LAST SONG OF HIGH SCHOOL. YEAH. CARRY ON.

So anyway, then it's our turn to actually get our diplomas and suddenly I'm on stage and holy crap I'm next and then I walk up and grab my diploma, get excited, and sit back down.....and then I realize that I pretty much just initiated the beginning of the rest of my life. Not my high school life where I had to do what was expected of every other highschooler or where friends were petty and annoying (no offense, love you guys <3) or where I didn't have any other choice but to sit there and wait it out. Nope. Now I could pretty much do whatever I want. My new life will consist of all the exciting things, all the REAL things. And, as startling as it is to suddenly be here, I could not be more thrilled.

concertttt

You know, there were times during my senior year when I thought I would never be done.

Like, when it was hotter than Hell outside and Coach Kopp made us run hills like a million times in weights and I was 99.9 percent sure I was going to pass out and die.

Or when I was preparing for my All State Auditions and I had like two days until my audition, and I felt all awesome and prepared and then we found out that I had prepared the wrong solo for my audition. My brain imploded and I just shut down pretty much and had to take the next two days off of school and practice for 8+hours both days to catch up. NOPE. NOT OKAY.

Or when I decided to submit a senior project for orchestra and I typed up my little essay and everything, and it was a beautiful day outside and I was right on time for school, and THEN MY MOM HANDS ME A MILKSHAKE AND I PUT IT IN THE CUPHOLDER AND GUESS WHAT RIGHT AS IM ABOUT TO PULL INTO SCHOOL IT DUMPS OUT RIGHT ONTO MY AWESOME ESSAY THATS DUE IN 5 MINUTES.

There have been challenging days for sure. The days where I really just want to go home and cry and eat some ice cream and probably top it off with a nice nap. Those days where I thought "There really isn't any way this day could get worse at this point." and the universe seemed to take that as a challenge and was like "Is that a triple dog dare? Cuz I'll do it."

But there have been some amazing moments this year, too. And this last week has been one amazing week. Specifically the end of this week.

On Wednesday night I had my last orchestra concert of my high school music career. That's emotional anyway, but this time was especially sad for me because I wasn't just playing- I was conducting.

In my orchestra programs in Queen Creek and many other cities, it is pretty typical for the teacher to allow seniors to choose and conduct songs. I have watched tons of my friends do this in the past, and I have been planning out my project in my head for FOREVER. I picked a song (Folk Tune Air and Fiddler's Fury by Alexander Safford), worked on it with the class for foreverrr (which still didn't feel like enough time), and pretty soon I found myself at dress rehearsal for the concert.
So here I am, without my teacher (aka my mentor, aka there to keep me from losing my mind) because she's conducting the youngun's, and I am standing on the podium in the orchestra room with the baton in my hand, and my hands are shaking, and I am really really scared. The piece is in two movements (for those of you who aren't following me, movements are like the sections of the song. In this case, there was a slow movement and then a fast movement.) and the fast movement was struggling a little.

But it's not like this was an easy piece. Fiddling music can be some of the most challenging because it forces the players to play differently than they're used to, and some of the passages can be dizzying fast or extremely intricate, or both, as was the case for this particular song. I had watched my violins, who are traditionally the ones given the most brutal passages of the music, get together and practice the music, and send each other recordings and consult each other about the music and I thought it was the sweetest thing. They weren't just doing it for themselves- they were also doing it as a gift to me. And it was touching.

So we worked and worked and ran the song what felt like a million times-- at slow tempos, fast tempos, with a metronome, without a metronome-- you name it, we tried it. And I also worked- I took the score home and had to study it by listening to hundreds of recordings to try and figure out what kindof sound I wanted (each piece has it's own little personality each time as new group plays it), and then when I found one I liked I had to figure out what I liked about it and how I was going to get my group to do that. And there was one thing I really liked about the recording I was studying from- it was fast. Really fast.

So I did what Mrs. Payne told me I had to do and practiced conducting... with my earphones in and my ipod playing the recording and conducting an invisible orchestra with a pencil as a baton, facing my mirror so I could see what I looked like. Talk about the weirdest thing ever. And not only that, another thing I figured out is that conducting a group that actually watches (unlike being the chorister at church (thats my calling-- holla!)) is REALLY hard to conduct. Like, seriously, it's not just waving your arm around (I really did think that). Orchestral conducting involves cueing in sections and following a score and transitioning speeds and conducting patterns and through all of it you have to stay consistent and steady- because if you fall apart, the group will probably fall apart, too.

So I "practiced" night after night in front of my mirror and felt like a weirdo, but soon the conducting became easier and easier and suddenly I was doing things without even noticing, like standing up straighter and conducting more confidently. It was really, really cool.

And yet, here I am the night of the concert, still stressed out, despite all of my hard work. Like, what the heck, man? I got up on the podium and ran through the songs and the fast movement- the movement I had selected the song specifically for- was sounding a little sketch. I was sad and disappointed and concerned and stressed and everything else all at once, and to top it off, it was freaking hot in the orchestra room and I was sweating like a pig. Gross, but true. Those polyester orchestra dresses don't exactly breathe.

But then, just as I felt like I was gonna lose it and probably just quit/pass out right there, my cute little stand partner Ashtyn tapped me on the shoulder and handed me something. She told me she made it just for me. I unwrapped it and there was a framed picture of me playing the cello with an awesome, hand-decorated frame around it. It was so thoughtful and just as I thought the emotional roller coaster was over, another girl handed me a note from Mrs. Payne wishing me luck. And then another card signed by my class saying how much they loved me and how excited they were  for me to conduct. And the gifts just kept coming- frames, notes, cards. I couldn't help it, I cried. It was one of the sweetest, most touching moments I've had with my orchestra class. I don't think I'll ever forget looking out at them smiling at me, just as we're about to go out on stage, reassuring me that all the hard work didn't go to waste and it was worth it.

And it went perfectly. I have never heard them play so well, and I have never been so nervous for a performance ever. EVER. But somehow the world didn't end, and everything was okay. I can't really think of a feeling that compares to looking down at them from the podium, and randomly one or two will glance up and smile to reassure me, and maybe just to wordlessly tell me "Thank you, I appreciate what you do."

And, in a week I have to leave them. How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard?

-Lauren