You might be a nerd if you've ever gotten seriously injured in band class. As of yesterday, I became a true nerd when, during band class, I managed to gash the bridge of my nose deep enough to have to get it stitched up. You're probably wondering how exactly I accomplished this, so let me tell you.

It all began when the band was practicing a rendition of "Do You Hear What I Hear" and "Snow Bells" for our upcoming Christmas program. The trumpet section was having some difficulty with part of "Snow Bells," so Mrs. Wellman was working with us on it. All of the sudden she got all ticked off exclaiming, "The rest of the band shouldn't have to sit and wait quietly while you guys try to figure this out. Can't you practice outside of class? That's it. I've had enough. Go out in the hall and practice." Well, I was already ticked off at her because I almost had to get a tardy at the beginning of class because of her, so I shot back, "Fine. I don't want to be in here anyway." (I don't know exactly if she heard me or not, but I hope she did.) With that, I grabbed my trumpet, picked up my stand, and trooped out of the room with the rest of the first trumpets. (Don't confuse my being a first trumpet with actually being good at playing it. Keep in mind, we were being sent out in the hall because we basically suck!)

So, I get out in the hall, and I'm all pissed off, which probably hindered my ability to use my head...well, I did, sort of...oh just let me get on to it. I needed to raise my stand because we were going to be standing up. Well, this stand was one of the many half-broken, f**ked (see how mad I am, I'm cussing) up stands our school has, so I'm pulling on it, and it won't budge. Finally, I yank up on it as hard as I can, the whole top part flies off, slamming me on the bridge of my nose. In my frustration, I throw down the stand and turn around yelling, "Gosh darn it, guys. I just hit myself in the head with this stupid thing." I reach up to feel my nose, and I just feel this indention in my nose, so I think nothing of it until everyone gasps at the sight of my face. "Lindsey, you're going to bleed," "Oh my God!" "Are you okay?" "You need to go to the nurse." These are the responses I get, and I'm just all like, "What?"

So, one of my fellow trumpeters/flag co-captain ushers me off to the nurse. You have to understand this girl is as blond as they come, so she's freaking out asking me if I'm going to faint, while I'm just all, "I feel fine." Heck, I didn't even cry. That's right. I'm tough. Anyway, when I get to the nurses office and see this lovely gash on my face, I realize it is worse than I thought. The nurse tells me I probably need stitches, which is what really scares me because dang, that would hurt.

I then drove home, and Dad took me to the doctors, where luckily, he didn't have to stitch me up; he used some special glue called Durabond to patch me up. So, now I have a lovely little band-aid on my forhead instead. The bonus: it's Care Bears! Everyone at school made fun of me so bad. Don't worry. It didn't bother me. At least not as much as the thousands of times I got asked, "What happened?" That is so annoying. But really, I can't blame people for making fun of me. I mean, seriously. How many people actually get hurt in band?! By the time this is all over, I'm hoping I've started a new trend: the band-aid across the nose look. Heck, Nelly did it with the band-aid across his cheek. Why can't I?