Handbell Bitterness

When I lived in Indiana, I was in my church's handbell choir. I loved it and don't mind saying was freakin' awesome at it. They gave me the toughest bells they had (A flat, A, B flat, B just above middle C), and I kicked major ass. Then I moved to PA and boo, no handbells. My church in North Carolina just decided to restart their handbell choir, and I was totally psyched. I signed up and even ditched bidding on my friend at the school's "date" auction to go to the first rehearsal (because you can only miss on rehearsal per season...yes, handbells have seasons.)

But God screwed me over. (hi. one way ticket to hell please. Yes, I'm the girl that said God screwed me on my blog.) I show up and apparently because I have played flute and am considered a "temporary" ringer (though I would argue I'm as temporary as some of the elder members of the choir) they gave me the highest bells they have. Even after I told them I could handle twice as many bells as the other members, I honestly play like four notes for an entire song. There is actually a song where I don't play at all. I spent the entire practice turning pages and telling the woman beside me when to play. Because, did I mention, she doesn't read music? (is that the C? No, that's A. Do I play A? No, you play C and B.) Really? You gave her better bells than me? Really? Anyway, I'm really bitter. Joy thinks there's probably some bribery taking place under the table, so we'll see if I can move up the bell choir hierarchy.