Marching Band Memories


My nerd-dom was secured the summer before third grade. ¬†Huge round-framed glasses. Frizzy perm. Hot pink velour shorts and matching v-neck short-sleeved shirt. Three things came together at the end of eighth grade to jeopardize that status: the hair grew out, I got contacts, and I practiced baton twirling for a hundred hours to try …

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