Gahrrrrrrrrrr.

My vision's going a bit red right now, so forgive me for any spelling errors. I'm blinded by rage. I'm literally shaking. Though, I suppose, rage isn't all of it. There's also horrible depression, and a vague sense of disappointment. As they say, the higher you are, the harder you fall. And I was pretty friggin' high today! So, of course, everything has to start sucking.

So I'm having a great day. Even better than last week. Lotsa fun, even though almost all of my friends were gone all day, performing for the elementary kids. I go to the school play. It completely sucks, but I still enjoy the experience.

Then I'm forced to talk to an individual who shall remain unnamed, when I really really didn't want to. He frightens me. Literally.

I'm told that I can't go to the drama cast party, even though I've been to more cast parties than many of the actual members.

I FORGET MY TRUMPET AT SCHOOL AND AM NOW FORCED TO USE ALEX'S.

I stew over the fact that as I'm here at home, everyone else is partying.

Plus, there's all the normal problems that I try to ignore. Like having to forfeit a scholarship because there's no pit band anymore.

I am at a very, very low point now. There's nothing more depressing than being separated from the people closest to you, especially if it's by someone who's supposed to be even closer.

.....

Give me a minute to collect myself.

.....


Maybe my feelings are unreasonable. I don't care. Everyone's entitled to be angry once in a while, and it's my turn.

That stupid jerk.

MYSTERY SWEEPSTAKES

I'm running dry as far as interesting experiences go. That is why I'm sponsoring an inevitably doomed contest. You be the first one to post a comment containing the reason why I have been uncontrollably happy for the past several days, and you get a mystery prize. Second place must guess my favorite CD EVER. This is not a hoax, as there's not really anything for me to get out of it. I'm just really, really bored.

And the mysterious stranger says, "Want some candy?"

Foul-mouthed F*^#$%s

I've had it. I'm going to hire a hitman. Anyone interested? If you take the job, you'll get to knock off a few high school students!

Some people just need to be taught some common courtesy. I don't mind if a person chooses to swear. In some instances, it can enhance their meaning, or add to the comic value of a joke. I choose not to, except if it's a mild song lyric, and that's me. But some people.....ugh. You could write a song with all the words they use. After all, it seems like they only use five of the first six letters in the alphabet: "F you, D mother Fing B. I'll Fing kick your Fing A, C-sucker."

Or, if they're in a really creative mood: "S! You Ns can Fing go to H, D A-C. C H A P S.

Hah hah! You can spell stupid words with their stupid, over-excercised profanity. P-A-D. S-A-D. H-A-D. D-A-S-H. N-A-P. Etc...

I had to spend twenty minutes listening to a couple of people (I won't mention exactly who. Let's just say one is practically a Troll, the other got a much-deserved fist to the face, and both ride my bus.) make horrible, racist comments, lie their pants off, and discuss the finer points of 'big-talking'. That is, being too full of yourself to realize that anyone off the street could beat the crap out of you. They literally swore more than every other word. Much of what they said didn't even make sense. For instance: "F F you know, cuz that Fing B was like, 'F, man. F you.' And I was all, F the F off. F your mouth, and A Fing walk away, B. And that Fing N Fer Fing walked the F away! He Fing knows that I'm a mother-Fing Bad-A."

Honestly. Do these people have any idea how stupid this makes them look? Upon reflection, I think not. After all, stupid people are often unaware of all the ridiculously stupid things they do. It gets to the point where what they say isn't even offensive anymore, for it has no meaning. Just like stepping out into the bright sunlight, people adjust. They block it out. What the idiots were doing to attract attention in the first place drives it away. Unless someone, such as myself, is trying to read in peace and can't concentrate over the volume of their obscenity.

Speaking of their volume, I hate my bus driver. You'll get the connection in a minute. She does not punish anyone. She tells people to stop, once or twice, and gives up. Jerks get right up next to her and start swearing at 6-year-old children, children who used to be good kids, but now have mouths fouler than their teachers'. She does absolutely nothing. Sure, if someone takes something that belongs to her, or even if it just falls on the floor, she'll pull the bus over and make us late.

Now these two retards (nothing against the mentally slow) were yelling, and I mean yelling. Louder than my singing in the shower yelling. I know she heard them. All the kids up front heard them, too. She didn't even ask them to stop. Here they are, plotting to get "All the whites to gang up on that N," and she doesn't even blink. ARGH! I wish she would just make it a silent bus. Anyone who talks get written up. Then I could read, and not have to worry about their idiocy. Or better yet, I wish I could finally go and get my friggin' liscense! Then I wouldn't have to ride the bus! I could sleep in! And I wouldn't have to bum rides from Juniors! Ah, the freedom....

Sorry. Started to daydream a bit there. Anywho, the point I'm trying to make is, KILL ANYONE WHO DROPS THE F-BOMB MORE THAN THREE TIMES IN ONE SENTANCE!!!!

That's all.

Oh, and if anyone happens to 'accidentally' kill, or even maim the guys that I'm 'not' talking about, there's always there chance that they happen to find a wad of twenties lying inside their locker a couple of days later. Not that I'd know anything about that.

And the imbecile, apparently, says, "A-B-C-D-F-F-F!!!!!"

State

What a draining weekend I've had. A draining week as well, now that I think about it. We had drumline rehearsal tuesday, wednesday, and thursday. Not that I'm complaining or anything. I really do enjoy physical agony. It builds character. I will, however, complain about Justin's knee. Absolutely disgusting the way it moves, much more so indeed than Jes's. He moved his kneecap around to the side of his leg! Ugh...

We left friday after school for state competitions. Yet another five hour bus ride, though it was pretty fun on the way up.We practiced. Again. Then we went to the hotel and chilled. It was cool. We stayed up way too late, and got up again early the next morning.

Saturday was prelims. We made it into the finals, tied for fifth place with a score of 83.0, our best performance ever. It was a good day. We had a pizza party when we got back to the hotel, and our room took three leftover pizzas, along with armfuls of rootbeer and RC. Of course, the real fun didn't come until later that night.

We moved matresses around and spent a few hours jumping on them, and recording our antics. Our very destructive and self-endangering antics. As this was happening, we also called the room that 'The Girls' were in. Over and over and over. And over. And over. They were pretty peeved that we were keeping them up, even though it was only midnight. Eventually Sam came across the hall and started pounding on the door. We thought it was a chaperone, so we turned all the lights off. It was then that we realized that our room was completely trashed. So while I went to check the door, everyone else frantically tried to clean up. When I saw it was Sam, I tried to find the skeleton costume I had brought along. Trust me, in the dark the thing is terrifying. But it was dark, and I couldn't see well enough to find it. Eventually she gave up knocking and just yelled at us through the door. Kevin decided to ask who was at the door just then. Pretty loudly. Apparently the chaperones heard this.

I was going to go open the door, and through a stroke of luck I decided to check through the peephole first. When I saw Mrs. Krontz, I told the others. We stopped giggling. Now we were really panicking. Abran, Jake, and Kevin somehow managed to make the room fairly presentable, and unanimously voted me to open the door. So I did. With a can of rootbeer in my hand. Very inconspicuous. Before I had a chance to say anything, Mrs. Krontz said, "If you pick up that phone one more time, you'll be sleeping with me, understand?" I just mumbled yes, and she left. Then we all broke down laughing. It really was pretty funny.

The next day, we were all a bit worried. Okay, we were downright terrified. We did NOT want to go downstairs and risk running into the girls. So instead of going to breakfast we stayed in our room and ate leftover pizza. When we finally had no choice but to leave the room, we discovered that they weren't plotting to kill us. They had simply decided not to talk to Kevin or I. Apparently they blamed us for the whole incident. I don't know why, we all thought it was equally funny. But that's the way it was.

Sam and Jordan did not take long to break. This surprised me. I expected Sam to be the hardest, since she's the one who actually came across the hall. But basically as soon as we came downstairs they were willing to talk to us. I guess they thought it was funny, too, in retrospect. Jenny only took a couple minutes more. As she said, she honestly didn't care about the whole thing, she was just going along with the others. Jessica was too angry at Kevin for microwaving things in their room earlier to keep herself from 'talking' to him, a.k.a. threatening him. So Megan lasted longest, and I still broke her in about fifteen minutes. She lasted against Kevin longer, however. An hour or two, I believe. So yeah, they were basically okay with it. I'm glad. I would hate for them to stay angry at me. My self-esteem is low enough as it is...interpret the sarcasm there however you'd like to.

So we performed for finals on Sunday, and went up by four tenths of a point. Unfortunately, the group we were tied with went up by eight tenths, and we got sixth overall. Ah, well. That still beat our best performance. We kept improving, and that's a large part of what counts, though not all of it.

The ride back was ridiculously boring. I now suffer from severe personality disorders as a result. I wish I had someone to sit with to make the ride more interesting (hint, hint, ladies). Of course, that someone would have to pass several rigorous examinations first (again, hint, hint, ladies). If interested, I'll be making just such an exam shortly, so be looking for a link soon. A link to Link. Heh heh.

Overall, I'd give the weekend an 8 out of 10. It would be a perfect ten if it hadn't been for that infernal return trip. Gah!

Now I'm completely exhausted, as well as a bit sick, and I couldn't face school today. I stayed home and slept in until 2. Then I played FFX, ate and wrote this. Much, much better than a day of further boredom, I must say.

As a final note, I have some very incriminating photos from the weekend, of various people. I'm debating whether or not to post them. I'll confer with Abran, who also has some, and get back to you on it.

And the drummer says "doo-gacht, de-gach gah, jigga-jigga chow chicka buddly-biddly-bow!"