More Bubbles

I had an audition for my high school's Symphonic Band this morning. My traitorous middle school band director told Mr. B (the high school director) that I know how to play bassoon, so after auditioning on my oboe, Mr. B told me that the band already had two oboes but needed a bassoon. He then gave me the school's old, smelly, probably horrible sounding one. He says he'll let me transpose trumpet or clarinet or whatever other parts the band needs unless there's some sort of vital bassoon part. Unfortunately I haven't played a bassoon in about a year and a half. Oh well.

Before any of you ask, my photo is of creme soda, not beer. My mom and I stopped at CARRS (Safeway) and got soda because my mouth was so dry from nerves. I hate playing alone in front of people.