My Language Arts Methods prof, Rebecca Kaminski is a skeeza... bless her heart. A skeeza (to me) is someone who acts like they've got it all together, but in reality, they suck; they are rude, inconsiderate, and two faced. Dr. Kaminski can be nice... like, you'd think she was batting for your team... until she pulls some ish like a huge project the week before exams. Yes. That's what that ol' SKEEZA did to us... after she gave us a pizza party and got people to sell us discounted books (the discounted books were of no real importance to me though). It's okay, Dr. K... you shall be in dumb pe0ple for some idiocracy that you said today AS WELL as earlier in the semester.
The whole reason I am writing about this skeeza is not because of the assignment she gave us though... I am wondering if I am becoming a SKEEZA!? Today in class we got to make up our own rubric for this BS project. Now, I am not any more excited about it than anyone else, but I don't see what the point is in making it so ridiculously easy to get an A. My group was in charge of making the rubric up for presentation... I did most of the work. So what Dr. K asked if time should be figured into the rubric, I said, for the lowest grade, 2 minutes and under, and for the highest grade, at least 5 minutes... that is not asking a lot. But if you had been in the class, you would have thought WAY differently. People were spazzin' out throwin' stuff and cursin' (not really, but I'm just trying to add to the atmosphere)! Dr. Kaminski WANTED 10 minute presentations... I think 5 minutes is a good compromise personally.
But then I got to thinking... am I becoming an ol' skeeza in my old age? I mean, Language Arts Methods today was my second to last class of my undergraduate career ever... Am I turning into an old fashioned fogie?
Even if I do, I will NOT EVER stoop to this level...
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Monday, November 29, 2004
i feel like writing...
Poor blog. What have you become?! Just a couple hundred pages sitting there in cyber space longing for the days when I had a chance to actually write in you... I'm so sorry. The past few entries, I have said over and over again how I am going to start writing more. Well, that was during the worse time of my life: THE BLOCK. I'm so glad it's over. I really do miss Mrs. Hatton's class though. It was a good learning experience. I am really looking forward to student teaching in a better situation though.
Anyway, since the block is over, I only have 2 classes tomorrow and 1 on Thursday. So Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are going to be play days. I am so excited... the sad fact, however, is that I probably won't do a damn thing any of these days. I said I was going to go to Athens on Wednesday for a "college visit." I dunno if that will really happen though. It would be fun, but I really need to figure out logistics of that if I'm gonna do it.
Hell... I need to figure out logistics for pretty much everything about life after May 13. I'm so ready to graduate... but I don't really know if I'm ready to get up out of Clemson. ::sigh:: Lets see. The main reason that I would want to stay here at Clemson is to be a grad assistant with the band, and because I have friends here already. I don't really know if those are valid enough reasons though. I am really leaning towards USC actually. I know, it's really weird--my university's rival... Something about it seems very appealing though. I like how it is still in state. I like how they have a good band program. I like the fact that it is in a metropolitian area (who am I kidding? It's just Columbia, but they call it "da Met"). So yay for USC. Then there's UGA. It would also be completely new to me... however, not as new as USC would be. I hav visited there lots. I also have a pretty good relationship with the Kappa Mu bros there. It would be fun to go to school with them. They have a KILLER band program there. They also have an incredible school of education. Quite frankly, I am concerned that I may not even get in there. That is the only school that I didn't get into when I applied for undergrad (even though, it was my guidance counselors fault... grrr).
By the way, that is what I am going to do now. I decided that Ed Psych was not going to be worth anything once I got out of school. I actually had to do some researching, talking to people... and I decided that it isn't what I want. An Elementary School Guidance Counselor sounds better to me. I haven't talked to any guidance counselors who don't enjoy it. I'm really looking forward to it.
Anyway, like the title of this entry says... I feel like writing. Not only do I feel like writing in this heavily neglected blog, but I feel like starting new stuff too... and picking up where I left off in another neglected creation of mine. POOR, POOR DELIGHTFUL! My dear sweet Georgia peach. I made her and her friends up this summer when I had nothing better to do. I guess the fact that I left readers at a cliff hanger on Buckhead State Bid Day shows that I found things that were better to do... WRONG. I just found things that were BITCHES to do... school work. Anyway, break starts soon. And I get a lot of writing done on break. I plan on picking Delightful back up... somehow. I also started a novel that is based on my family back in Dale. It's called Family Friendly. It should be good... based on a true story with elements of fiction. My friend Mandy from high school is going to be writing something with me as well. It's called Any Suggestions? I actually got the name from her when she was asking me what I thought we should name it. She said, "Any suggestions?" and bam. There it was. It's going to be a series of letters written back and forth between to high school friends that are apart from each other at college. I'm really excited about it.
So, I have my work cut out for me. As for dumb pe0ple and Short Bus Stories, I think those are pretty dormant for the time being. Those are for random and sporadic bursts of writing... not really things meant to be kept up.
ANYWAY... on to the juice of my ever so fabulous blogs (j/k... I have been brought back down to earth now that I haven't had time to keep it up... although I really did love my rendition of "Overnight Celebrity" a few entries back). I used the r-word earlier in this entry...
I don't think I'm going to get married. I think I'll end up one of those strangely happy highly successful and fashionable single people. It has it's perks. No one to answer to but myself... I'll be able to come and go when I want... I won't have to fight for the remote control... and I will be able to decorate my bathroom in Spongebob Squarepants if I want to. Just kidding. Anyway, I really don't know how I feel about this... it's not really a disappointed feeling, or even a feeling of liberation. This is gonna bug me until I really get to that point. ::sigh:: So May 13, 2005, you can take your time getting here...
Anyway, since the block is over, I only have 2 classes tomorrow and 1 on Thursday. So Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are going to be play days. I am so excited... the sad fact, however, is that I probably won't do a damn thing any of these days. I said I was going to go to Athens on Wednesday for a "college visit." I dunno if that will really happen though. It would be fun, but I really need to figure out logistics of that if I'm gonna do it.
Hell... I need to figure out logistics for pretty much everything about life after May 13. I'm so ready to graduate... but I don't really know if I'm ready to get up out of Clemson. ::sigh:: Lets see. The main reason that I would want to stay here at Clemson is to be a grad assistant with the band, and because I have friends here already. I don't really know if those are valid enough reasons though. I am really leaning towards USC actually. I know, it's really weird--my university's rival... Something about it seems very appealing though. I like how it is still in state. I like how they have a good band program. I like the fact that it is in a metropolitian area (who am I kidding? It's just Columbia, but they call it "da Met"). So yay for USC. Then there's UGA. It would also be completely new to me... however, not as new as USC would be. I hav visited there lots. I also have a pretty good relationship with the Kappa Mu bros there. It would be fun to go to school with them. They have a KILLER band program there. They also have an incredible school of education. Quite frankly, I am concerned that I may not even get in there. That is the only school that I didn't get into when I applied for undergrad (even though, it was my guidance counselors fault... grrr).
By the way, that is what I am going to do now. I decided that Ed Psych was not going to be worth anything once I got out of school. I actually had to do some researching, talking to people... and I decided that it isn't what I want. An Elementary School Guidance Counselor sounds better to me. I haven't talked to any guidance counselors who don't enjoy it. I'm really looking forward to it.
Anyway, like the title of this entry says... I feel like writing. Not only do I feel like writing in this heavily neglected blog, but I feel like starting new stuff too... and picking up where I left off in another neglected creation of mine. POOR, POOR DELIGHTFUL! My dear sweet Georgia peach. I made her and her friends up this summer when I had nothing better to do. I guess the fact that I left readers at a cliff hanger on Buckhead State Bid Day shows that I found things that were better to do... WRONG. I just found things that were BITCHES to do... school work. Anyway, break starts soon. And I get a lot of writing done on break. I plan on picking Delightful back up... somehow. I also started a novel that is based on my family back in Dale. It's called Family Friendly. It should be good... based on a true story with elements of fiction. My friend Mandy from high school is going to be writing something with me as well. It's called Any Suggestions? I actually got the name from her when she was asking me what I thought we should name it. She said, "Any suggestions?" and bam. There it was. It's going to be a series of letters written back and forth between to high school friends that are apart from each other at college. I'm really excited about it.
So, I have my work cut out for me. As for dumb pe0ple and Short Bus Stories, I think those are pretty dormant for the time being. Those are for random and sporadic bursts of writing... not really things meant to be kept up.
ANYWAY... on to the juice of my ever so fabulous blogs (j/k... I have been brought back down to earth now that I haven't had time to keep it up... although I really did love my rendition of "Overnight Celebrity" a few entries back). I used the r-word earlier in this entry...
I also have a pretty good relationship with the Kappa Mu bros there.
There is a Ham Rule against using that word. Well, you know, I have kept my Ham Rules pretty well, so I'm not worried about breaking it. Now that I look at it, I think that it was a pretty stupid rule anyway. And honestly, following the Ham Rules has gotten me nowhere. I mean, I'm the same as I was when I made them up. I guess I have learned how to deal with my lack of a RELATIONSHIP over the past 4 years. But I haven't gotten any closer to one. Now that I am about to graduate and am getting closer to being out there on my own, I kinda have mixed feelings. I will be the same type of person that my Aunt Irene is... where she has tons of friends who are married and tons of friends and family who keep asking her when she is going to get married. Or, I could be like those cool single people who seem to be the main characters on prime time sitcoms... highly successful and stylish living in my small but sheik Pottery Barn decorated upper class townhome. I dunno. Everywhere I turn boyfriends and girlfriends are turning into fiancees. I guess that is what happens in the early 20s. And in the mid 20s, those fiancees are going to turn into husbands and wives. Dang. I am going to be highly delayed... the boyfriend/girlfriend stage was back at like 17-19. I haven't even reached that stage yet. I guess I'll be married by the time I'm 35... if even then.
I don't think I'm going to get married. I think I'll end up one of those strangely happy highly successful and fashionable single people. It has it's perks. No one to answer to but myself... I'll be able to come and go when I want... I won't have to fight for the remote control... and I will be able to decorate my bathroom in Spongebob Squarepants if I want to. Just kidding. Anyway, I really don't know how I feel about this... it's not really a disappointed feeling, or even a feeling of liberation. This is gonna bug me until I really get to that point. ::sigh:: So May 13, 2005, you can take your time getting here...
Monday, November 15, 2004
ugh.
I feel so disgustingly Bridget Jones right now. Sitting here journaling with my hot chicken noodle soup in a mug, not a bowl (this is so weird). My throat hurts. It's hurt for a while actually. It usually happens when the seasons change. Hopefully I'll be over it soon though.
Anyway, Bridget Jones. I was so Bridget Jones all day. I hung out all by myself, except for when I went home. Yeah, I went back to G-vegas to get some books I forgot over fall break. I saw everyone but my dad, so I guess it was nice.
The big deal about this whole trip to Greenville was going downtown and stopping at Falls Park. There used to be a road bridge that went over the falls, but they have since turned it into a suspended walking bridge. It was one of the prettiest things I had ever seen. My practicum teacher, Mrs. Hatton had mentioned it to me several times, so I figured I had nothing better to do, so I stopped by to look.
I walked out there with my discman... Clay Aiken was in the CD player. The song was Solitaire. How absolutely depressing. I mean, a beautiful Sunday afternoon in this amazing park listening to a song about a lonely man. Hmm... Yes. The story of my life.
I left utterly depressed and defeated. I mean, I am and will probably forever remain defeated...
A heart that cared
That went unshared
Until it died in his silence...
Oh, Clay Aiken, how you do what you do...
I'm ready to find some relief from this hopelessness. No, not necessarily someone to date... just the ability to be okay with being alone... the ability to walk amongst couples without getting all droopy faced...
Oh yeah, and the ability to watch chick flicks and not spazz out at the super sweet part (point in case, the part in "The Girl Next Door" when Matthew goes up and kisses Danielle for the first time and This Year's Love starts playing).
Just let me be apathetic...
Anyway, Bridget Jones. I was so Bridget Jones all day. I hung out all by myself, except for when I went home. Yeah, I went back to G-vegas to get some books I forgot over fall break. I saw everyone but my dad, so I guess it was nice.
The big deal about this whole trip to Greenville was going downtown and stopping at Falls Park. There used to be a road bridge that went over the falls, but they have since turned it into a suspended walking bridge. It was one of the prettiest things I had ever seen. My practicum teacher, Mrs. Hatton had mentioned it to me several times, so I figured I had nothing better to do, so I stopped by to look.
I walked out there with my discman... Clay Aiken was in the CD player. The song was Solitaire. How absolutely depressing. I mean, a beautiful Sunday afternoon in this amazing park listening to a song about a lonely man. Hmm... Yes. The story of my life.
I left utterly depressed and defeated. I mean, I am and will probably forever remain defeated...
A heart that cared
That went unshared
Until it died in his silence...
Oh, Clay Aiken, how you do what you do...
I'm ready to find some relief from this hopelessness. No, not necessarily someone to date... just the ability to be okay with being alone... the ability to walk amongst couples without getting all droopy faced...
Oh yeah, and the ability to watch chick flicks and not spazz out at the super sweet part (point in case, the part in "The Girl Next Door" when Matthew goes up and kisses Danielle for the first time and This Year's Love starts playing).
Just let me be apathetic...
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
fucked up fall break
1. First of all, the title of this entry is not due to the fact that I was wasted over fall break. I was quite sober, thankyouverymuch.
2. I titled it for 2 reasons.
(a) The alliteration (you like that, don't you)
(b) Something really was fucked up in our family computer at home, and it would not let me blog!
I had mucho stuff to write about too... Now, I am having a brain fart, and I can't think of anything I wanted to say. I think the brain fart is due to the fact that all brain power in the universe is being used to count the ballots for president. I have to admit... it's a big deal. As much as I hate politics, this is an exciting day. It was my very first presidential election. I voted in the gubernatorial election in 2000, and I was highly disappointed. I voted straight ticket Democrat... I didn't do that this time because first of all, while it would have been very fast, I had already waited 45 minutes in line anyway; secondly, Fletcher Anderson made a dumb ass comment in "The State" paper talking about how it was pretty much a given that minorities vote Democrat; and thirdly, the last time I did that, every Democrat lost... haha.
So today, I voted for Kerry... for Inez, and also for the mini bottles. My biggest concern is for the mini bottles. They are cool! And they make South Carolina special! We are the weirdos that have little colorful bottles lining the shelves of our bars and the weirdos that get more drunk than people in other states. LET THE MINI BOTTLE LIVE ON!
Anyway, enough of that election mumbo jumbo. Back to things on a smaller scale... oh that's right... I CAN'T REMEMBER ANY OF THEM BECAUSE MY COMPUTER AT HOME WOULDN'T LET ME TYPE ANYTHING!!!
But I do remember one thing... plans after college... this is so serious. What to do? Well, the choice was work, or go to grad school. My main concern was if I did work, I did not want to live at home. I'm ready to be on my own. Well, I found out this weekend that my parents want me to go straight to grad school too. I was kind of shocked 'cause I thought that they were gonna want me home as soon as I got done with college. That would suck so bad though. I mean, that is like a HUGE fear for me... I have been having visions of it all... It reminds me of summer camp. I go to summer camp for an extended amount of time, and then it's over... all the fun, friends, and freedom (once again, sweet alliteration). Moving back to "Grr" would be like returning home after a 4 year stay at summer camp. DAMN! It's been 4 years?! Where did it all go? Lordamercy...
That leads me to my final thought of this election evening (alliteration, part III): I am a senior in college. There is so much petty bullshit that is around me. I'm so sick of it. I'm sick of allowing myself to let people piss me off... you see that... I'M taking responsibility for it. It's no one's fault but mine. People can do things all they want, but I have realized that you have to be responsible for your feelings and attitude. No one can make you feel any sort of way. Someone can push you, spit on you, cuss you out, make fun of you, throw things at you, run over you with a CAT bus, but in the end, your response is up to you... you can't go and say, "(s)he made me do it." There are always 2 options to everything... you can retaliate negatively, or you can just go on about your merry way. Starting now, I'm going on my merry way. People can say what they want... and I'll just go on pretending like they wasted their breath and energy getting pissed off at me, 'cause I'm not going to let stupid stuff bother me... and what makes me really excited about this is, I know I can do this... remember the Hamilton that was so passive and non-confrontational... oh, those days are over... thanks to experiences from this past spring.
The goal is to become independent. Twenty-one is too old to worry about what other people think. In the words of Dr. Dre...
Fuck y'all
All of y'all
If y'all don't like me,
Blow me...
2. I titled it for 2 reasons.
(a) The alliteration (you like that, don't you)
(b) Something really was fucked up in our family computer at home, and it would not let me blog!
I had mucho stuff to write about too... Now, I am having a brain fart, and I can't think of anything I wanted to say. I think the brain fart is due to the fact that all brain power in the universe is being used to count the ballots for president. I have to admit... it's a big deal. As much as I hate politics, this is an exciting day. It was my very first presidential election. I voted in the gubernatorial election in 2000, and I was highly disappointed. I voted straight ticket Democrat... I didn't do that this time because first of all, while it would have been very fast, I had already waited 45 minutes in line anyway; secondly, Fletcher Anderson made a dumb ass comment in "The State" paper talking about how it was pretty much a given that minorities vote Democrat; and thirdly, the last time I did that, every Democrat lost... haha.
So today, I voted for Kerry... for Inez, and also for the mini bottles. My biggest concern is for the mini bottles. They are cool! And they make South Carolina special! We are the weirdos that have little colorful bottles lining the shelves of our bars and the weirdos that get more drunk than people in other states. LET THE MINI BOTTLE LIVE ON!
Anyway, enough of that election mumbo jumbo. Back to things on a smaller scale... oh that's right... I CAN'T REMEMBER ANY OF THEM BECAUSE MY COMPUTER AT HOME WOULDN'T LET ME TYPE ANYTHING!!!
But I do remember one thing... plans after college... this is so serious. What to do? Well, the choice was work, or go to grad school. My main concern was if I did work, I did not want to live at home. I'm ready to be on my own. Well, I found out this weekend that my parents want me to go straight to grad school too. I was kind of shocked 'cause I thought that they were gonna want me home as soon as I got done with college. That would suck so bad though. I mean, that is like a HUGE fear for me... I have been having visions of it all... It reminds me of summer camp. I go to summer camp for an extended amount of time, and then it's over... all the fun, friends, and freedom (once again, sweet alliteration). Moving back to "Grr" would be like returning home after a 4 year stay at summer camp. DAMN! It's been 4 years?! Where did it all go? Lordamercy...
That leads me to my final thought of this election evening (alliteration, part III): I am a senior in college. There is so much petty bullshit that is around me. I'm so sick of it. I'm sick of allowing myself to let people piss me off... you see that... I'M taking responsibility for it. It's no one's fault but mine. People can do things all they want, but I have realized that you have to be responsible for your feelings and attitude. No one can make you feel any sort of way. Someone can push you, spit on you, cuss you out, make fun of you, throw things at you, run over you with a CAT bus, but in the end, your response is up to you... you can't go and say, "(s)he made me do it." There are always 2 options to everything... you can retaliate negatively, or you can just go on about your merry way. Starting now, I'm going on my merry way. People can say what they want... and I'll just go on pretending like they wasted their breath and energy getting pissed off at me, 'cause I'm not going to let stupid stuff bother me... and what makes me really excited about this is, I know I can do this... remember the Hamilton that was so passive and non-confrontational... oh, those days are over... thanks to experiences from this past spring.
The goal is to become independent. Twenty-one is too old to worry about what other people think. In the words of Dr. Dre...
Fuck y'all
All of y'all
If y'all don't like me,
Blow me...
*Please pardon the persistent use of pungent profanity in this portion of my personal thoughts.*
(Alliteration, Part IV, baby... what...)
(Alliteration, Part IV, baby... what...)
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
i have been so tragic...
CORRECTION. SCHOOL has been so tragic... and the reason why I haven't written in forever. I am so sorry. Right after I spat all that game talkin' about how awesome my blog was, I jut leave it out there to wilt away. So right now, I am lacking in the cool points. Hopefully, I can get back up there.
Seriously though, school has been kicking my tail. No one better ever talk about Elementary Ed. being an easy major. I swear I will maim them in a way that it won't grow back... bitches. On top of that, they treat us like scum.
Lemme tell you about READ TEACHER NUMBER 4... First there was Asher. A cool bitch. Seriously. Then there was Alice, whom we like to refer to as, "The Cop." After that, there was Whitaker, our Social Studies methods teacher. Bless her heart. After Ellen, Krista and I went into the head of the School of Ed's office and bitched about The Cop, Whitaker so graciously took on our Read class. Well, that lasted for a week. Then she found out she was pregnant... then she found out she was pregnant with twins.... well, who knows the rest... All we know is that she needs to stay in bed for her pregnancy... so, tomorrow will be our first day with Dr. Dunston. I've heard lots about this woman, but the question is... WILL SHE BE OUR FINAL READ TEACHER? Probably not. She'll probably trip down the stairs in Tillman, break her pinky, and we'll have to get someone else. Frankly, this Read class is now a joke to me. Four professors, nothing learned. I better get an A... either that or a FULL REFUND for those hours.
Besides getting treated like crap over in Tillman, I was treated like crap a week or so ago in Death Valley. Band hit an all time low when I was conducting Captain and the drumline took off with the rest of the band and left me swimming toward them "with all my might." On top of being made look like a fool, Dr. Spede grabbed my ankle. THAT was the worse part. I swear, if the finger of God was not on me, he would have had my Showstopper in his eye. Thankfully, things seem to be a lot better in that area... And strangely enough, I'm ready for band to be over, but I know I'm gonna miss it ridiculously. Let's not talk about that though. I thought about it today and got a little misty-eyed.
Everything else is cool... It's still just little old lonely me, but I'm cool with it. There are some people who are showing me that companionship is not all that... People are just way to serious. I mean, really. This is college. So yeah, lets have fun, but lets also put some of the petty stuff behind us... which is why I need to grill this beef I have with a particular f*cker. It's the grown up thing to do... whether I'm over everything or not...
Seriously though, school has been kicking my tail. No one better ever talk about Elementary Ed. being an easy major. I swear I will maim them in a way that it won't grow back... bitches. On top of that, they treat us like scum.
Lemme tell you about READ TEACHER NUMBER 4... First there was Asher. A cool bitch. Seriously. Then there was Alice, whom we like to refer to as, "The Cop." After that, there was Whitaker, our Social Studies methods teacher. Bless her heart. After Ellen, Krista and I went into the head of the School of Ed's office and bitched about The Cop, Whitaker so graciously took on our Read class. Well, that lasted for a week. Then she found out she was pregnant... then she found out she was pregnant with twins.... well, who knows the rest... All we know is that she needs to stay in bed for her pregnancy... so, tomorrow will be our first day with Dr. Dunston. I've heard lots about this woman, but the question is... WILL SHE BE OUR FINAL READ TEACHER? Probably not. She'll probably trip down the stairs in Tillman, break her pinky, and we'll have to get someone else. Frankly, this Read class is now a joke to me. Four professors, nothing learned. I better get an A... either that or a FULL REFUND for those hours.
Besides getting treated like crap over in Tillman, I was treated like crap a week or so ago in Death Valley. Band hit an all time low when I was conducting Captain and the drumline took off with the rest of the band and left me swimming toward them "with all my might." On top of being made look like a fool, Dr. Spede grabbed my ankle. THAT was the worse part. I swear, if the finger of God was not on me, he would have had my Showstopper in his eye. Thankfully, things seem to be a lot better in that area... And strangely enough, I'm ready for band to be over, but I know I'm gonna miss it ridiculously. Let's not talk about that though. I thought about it today and got a little misty-eyed.
Everything else is cool... It's still just little old lonely me, but I'm cool with it. There are some people who are showing me that companionship is not all that... People are just way to serious. I mean, really. This is college. So yeah, lets have fun, but lets also put some of the petty stuff behind us... which is why I need to grill this beef I have with a particular f*cker. It's the grown up thing to do... whether I'm over everything or not...
Monday, October 11, 2004
a little bitching never hurt anything after all
So apparently, me being a complete and udder pain to the Eugene T. Moore School of Education actually did some good. Dr. Whitaker, our Social Studies Methods teacher is going to be teaching our Read class now. Alice is back in her f-ing wonderland... LOL.
I win. Don't f*ck with me... scalawags...
I win. Don't f*ck with me... scalawags...
Sunday, October 10, 2004
mixed emotions
I don't feel like writing a lot... it's late and I'm not in the state to really write anything truly worthwhile. But, the Seneca High School Marching Band is great. PERIOD. No one can tell me any different. That band went out and represented today... they seriously marched their asses off. I was so incredibly proud to be counted as a part of "The Sound of Seneca." The seriously make me proud, and I wou;d not want to be working with any other band... there is something special out there in far left field of the baseball field there on the Seneca High campus. I am so lucky to be a part of it.
Secondly, the bitch that I spoke about in the last entry... they have pissed me off royally tonight. Theft, sexual assailt, obnoxiousness... the list goes on and on. I am very frustrated. You know... too frustrated to write anymore...
I love the Seneca High Marching Band... I loathe the mentioned individual.
Secondly, the bitch that I spoke about in the last entry... they have pissed me off royally tonight. Theft, sexual assailt, obnoxiousness... the list goes on and on. I am very frustrated. You know... too frustrated to write anymore...
I love the Seneca High Marching Band... I loathe the mentioned individual.
Friday, October 08, 2004
psycho crazed suicidal nympho maniac
So I have just been brought into the light of what a disturbing journal entry sounds like... and I'd like to apologize for my last couple entries... I don't know who the hell I'm apologizing to... I mean, I don't know who reads this anymore since I don't have a link to it in my profile and I don't write as much. All that's gonna change though. Freshman year my journal used to be a place for simple little whiny entries about my lack of a love life, and I'll be damned if 3 years later I haven't progressed to writing anything more exciting. I do want to say that my sappy, whiny writing is thoughtful and worthwhile though... I have a friend who seriously feels like they are the shit and they are just so mean to EVERYONE... they have this attitude like, "I'm a bitch and I know it... and whether you like me or not, I'm way totally cool." Ha. I am nowhere near that arrogant, but I would like to say, "My blog is the shit and I know it... and whether you like it or not, it's better than yours... if you even have the competence to keep one up." LOL.
Seriously though... this is good shit, isn't it? The only thing that could rival it is The Tiger... and lawwwd, that article I wrote last week about those ridiculous bricks... excuse me, "pavers"... that line the ground at the Union has gotten the whole camups in an uproar... See... I have the emotions of the entire school in the palm of my hand!!! MUAH HA HA HA HEE HEE HEE!
::ahem::
Anyway... yesterday I had to get bold with the illustrious Eugene T. Moore School of Education. Yes, they are granting me a degree in May, but yesterday, they gave me a sorry excuse for a teacher, and neither my classmates nor I agreed with it. Our first Read teacher, Asher was one cool bitch. I mean seriously. We used to have SO much fun in that class! And not only did we have fun and the class wasn't like watching paint dry, but we learned a lot. I mean, you just learn a lot more from teachers who not only know what they are talking about, but teachers who have a clue as to how to teach and engage their students. Well, Asher had to leave for her own reasons, and all of us were sad to see her go, but we understood. The School of Education got this ridiculous backwoods Tamassee woman to come and take her place... Excuse me. The fact that she is backwoods and from Tamassee really doesn't mean anything... what the issue is, is she walked into the room (first day of her EVER being there, now) and goes, "My name is Alice, I'm your new Read teacher and from what I hear you didn't do or learn anything with your former teacher. I am assuming that you know nothing about reading and it is because your teacher never taught you anything." First of all... "Blah, blah, blah, the mission of the Eugene T. Moore School of Education is to education Caring, Capable, and Connected educators, blah, blah, blah." YOU DON'T WALK INTO A ROOM OF PRE-SERVICE TEACHERS AND TELL THEM THAT THEIR TEACHER WAS A JOKE AND THEY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. On top of that, you don't walk in and throw 2 packets chock full of random information ON THE DAY OF A MIDTERM becuase, "Your teacher was supposed to have taught you the things that were in Chapters 1-6 of the book and she didn't. So I am going to do it right now before the exam." That heffer gave us a copy of her PowerPoints... NINE SLIDES ON A PAGE... Poor Ellen... even if she had had designer super contacts in (Ellen is always in something designer), she wouldn't have been able to see the things adequately. She asked Alice if she could make the PowerPoints bigger... and she was like, "I have a certain amount of paper I can use, and I can't make them special just for you." Hmm... Well, Eugene T. Moore School of Education, I can't tell you how many times I have heard someone in your illustrious faculty say, "Teach to the whole child." Oh yes. I have been listening and taking advantage of this education that keeps getting more and more expensive every year.
Anyway, Alice had us write whether or not we thought we learned anything, what we did learn, and whether the midterm was an adequate assessment of what we learned on the back of our midterm. I lit into the woman... telling her that we learned tons in the weeks before she showed up and how unprofessional it was for her to come in and bash our former teacher and tell us, her students and future teachers that we didn't know anything and she was the one to enlighten us. After I so eloquently gave her a figurative smack upside the head, Ellen, Krista and I marched right up to the office of the head of the School of Education and told him everything and how we didn't appreciate her coming in and doing the things she did. He seemed really surprised and taken aback at the whole situation. He told us that she was out of line and that he would try to right the wrong, but apparently he and the rest of the Read department had been told that Asher had never taught us anything and she never showed up for class. Well, we defended Asher and our own intelligence in the only way we knew how... concrete evidence. I took out my PowerPoints that Asher had made for us (which he compared to Alice's microscopic PowerPoints) and he went and made copies of them. He said that that evidence would help a lot and give them a clearer understanding of what Asher DID do.
So... I said all that to say, DON'T F*CK WITH PEOPLE BECAUSE THEY ARE YOUNGER THAN YOU OR IN A LOWER POSITION THAN YOU. They can screw you over and make things very difficult for you. As for Alice... I intend on rocking her world in that class... making As on everything and being just as respectful to her as she was to us. I am a senior... that Read class will be the VERY last undergraduate class I EVER take because next semester will be nothing but student teaching. All of our teachers in the block have told us that we are pretty much teachers... there isn't a lot more that we need to learn... the only thing that stands between us and the title are signed pieces of paper. She can't screw us over like that and disrespect us like we don't know what the hell is going on.
But that basically goes for everyone... I'm sick of people talking down to other people and thinking they are so much better than everyone else. Sure in your mind you can build yourself up and think that you are God's gift to mankind... that's great. It's good to have a little self-esteem. But ESPECIALLY if you are in a position of leadership, use a little humility... and geez, if you are a teacher... POINT BLANK: DON'T BE SUCH AN F-ING DOUCHE.
tehee...
Disclaimer: The title of this entry is in NO reference to the aforementioned teacher. It is about the journal entry I mentioned towards the beginning of this entry.
Seriously though... this is good shit, isn't it? The only thing that could rival it is The Tiger... and lawwwd, that article I wrote last week about those ridiculous bricks... excuse me, "pavers"... that line the ground at the Union has gotten the whole camups in an uproar... See... I have the emotions of the entire school in the palm of my hand!!! MUAH HA HA HA HEE HEE HEE!
::ahem::
Anyway... yesterday I had to get bold with the illustrious Eugene T. Moore School of Education. Yes, they are granting me a degree in May, but yesterday, they gave me a sorry excuse for a teacher, and neither my classmates nor I agreed with it. Our first Read teacher, Asher was one cool bitch. I mean seriously. We used to have SO much fun in that class! And not only did we have fun and the class wasn't like watching paint dry, but we learned a lot. I mean, you just learn a lot more from teachers who not only know what they are talking about, but teachers who have a clue as to how to teach and engage their students. Well, Asher had to leave for her own reasons, and all of us were sad to see her go, but we understood. The School of Education got this ridiculous backwoods Tamassee woman to come and take her place... Excuse me. The fact that she is backwoods and from Tamassee really doesn't mean anything... what the issue is, is she walked into the room (first day of her EVER being there, now) and goes, "My name is Alice, I'm your new Read teacher and from what I hear you didn't do or learn anything with your former teacher. I am assuming that you know nothing about reading and it is because your teacher never taught you anything." First of all... "Blah, blah, blah, the mission of the Eugene T. Moore School of Education is to education Caring, Capable, and Connected educators, blah, blah, blah." YOU DON'T WALK INTO A ROOM OF PRE-SERVICE TEACHERS AND TELL THEM THAT THEIR TEACHER WAS A JOKE AND THEY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. On top of that, you don't walk in and throw 2 packets chock full of random information ON THE DAY OF A MIDTERM becuase, "Your teacher was supposed to have taught you the things that were in Chapters 1-6 of the book and she didn't. So I am going to do it right now before the exam." That heffer gave us a copy of her PowerPoints... NINE SLIDES ON A PAGE... Poor Ellen... even if she had had designer super contacts in (Ellen is always in something designer), she wouldn't have been able to see the things adequately. She asked Alice if she could make the PowerPoints bigger... and she was like, "I have a certain amount of paper I can use, and I can't make them special just for you." Hmm... Well, Eugene T. Moore School of Education, I can't tell you how many times I have heard someone in your illustrious faculty say, "Teach to the whole child." Oh yes. I have been listening and taking advantage of this education that keeps getting more and more expensive every year.
Anyway, Alice had us write whether or not we thought we learned anything, what we did learn, and whether the midterm was an adequate assessment of what we learned on the back of our midterm. I lit into the woman... telling her that we learned tons in the weeks before she showed up and how unprofessional it was for her to come in and bash our former teacher and tell us, her students and future teachers that we didn't know anything and she was the one to enlighten us. After I so eloquently gave her a figurative smack upside the head, Ellen, Krista and I marched right up to the office of the head of the School of Education and told him everything and how we didn't appreciate her coming in and doing the things she did. He seemed really surprised and taken aback at the whole situation. He told us that she was out of line and that he would try to right the wrong, but apparently he and the rest of the Read department had been told that Asher had never taught us anything and she never showed up for class. Well, we defended Asher and our own intelligence in the only way we knew how... concrete evidence. I took out my PowerPoints that Asher had made for us (which he compared to Alice's microscopic PowerPoints) and he went and made copies of them. He said that that evidence would help a lot and give them a clearer understanding of what Asher DID do.
So... I said all that to say, DON'T F*CK WITH PEOPLE BECAUSE THEY ARE YOUNGER THAN YOU OR IN A LOWER POSITION THAN YOU. They can screw you over and make things very difficult for you. As for Alice... I intend on rocking her world in that class... making As on everything and being just as respectful to her as she was to us. I am a senior... that Read class will be the VERY last undergraduate class I EVER take because next semester will be nothing but student teaching. All of our teachers in the block have told us that we are pretty much teachers... there isn't a lot more that we need to learn... the only thing that stands between us and the title are signed pieces of paper. She can't screw us over like that and disrespect us like we don't know what the hell is going on.
But that basically goes for everyone... I'm sick of people talking down to other people and thinking they are so much better than everyone else. Sure in your mind you can build yourself up and think that you are God's gift to mankind... that's great. It's good to have a little self-esteem. But ESPECIALLY if you are in a position of leadership, use a little humility... and geez, if you are a teacher... POINT BLANK: DON'T BE SUCH AN F-ING DOUCHE.
tehee...
Disclaimer: The title of this entry is in NO reference to the aforementioned teacher. It is about the journal entry I mentioned towards the beginning of this entry.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
wait a minute...
...that was so depressing. Too depressing. Why shouldn't I believe. What does it hurt? Besides the fact that it pulls way too hard on the heartstrings, it doesn't kill me...
But I hate holding out and once again like in This Year's Love... I am admitting the fact that I am waiting. Waiting sucks ass. Plain and simple. I think it's made me a bitter person.
It's why I don't believe... no. I don't. I don't care if that is too depressing. That's me and that's real. I don't believe.
But I hate holding out and once again like in This Year's Love... I am admitting the fact that I am waiting. Waiting sucks ass. Plain and simple. I think it's made me a bitter person.
It's why I don't believe... no. I don't. I don't care if that is too depressing. That's me and that's real. I don't believe.
drew's birthday
It's late... really late. It's 2 am. I have 2 exams in the morning. I have NOT written in here in a while. So this late night entry is justified.
My friend Drew who I don't see very often at all turned 21 at midnight. He IMed me at about 9:30 to see if I would go downtown with him. I said sure even though I was home sick today and have my exams in the morning. I felt bad... it seemed as if he wasn't going to have anyone to go downtown with. So I went.
Drew and I always have really good, deep conversations. It's ironic seeing how we don't talk much... we are both really busy and when we do talk it's usually online. But when we do get a chance to see each other in person, we always talk about deep philosophical stuff.
Tonight, he asked how I was doing and stuff, and I said I was okay, but no one really understands me. He said he felt the same way, but he thought he could figure me out. Then he asked if I really would want to be understood, because knowing everything about someone is the difference between being a human being and being God. It made me think, but in the end, I answered that I do want someone to know all about me.
Isn't t hat what companionship is? Knowing everything about someone? I think my parents know everything about each other... seriously. Its a kind of relationship that is even closer than that of a parent and child... children are always going to hide things from their parents, but a true loving and honest marriage has no secrets. They know everything about each other.
So yes. I want someone to know all about me. But, once again, I know that person probably doesn't exist.
Since they don't exist, I stopped living by the words of This Year's Love. Yes, I have been waiting on my own too long... and I'm still waiting, obviously. What's the point in reminding myself that I am just waiting. Just today, I have been drawn to song lyrics that talk about believing (all American Idol songs, ironically). I want to believe... and I like these songs. So I'll hold on to these for a while. Whether I really believe or not, I can't tell. Truthfully, I don't believe... but that just sounds so horrible. So... I dunno.
This one song that I am listening to now, Dreams, talks about how we are just made of dreams. I mean, I do dream about it... is that believing enough? I honestly cannot sit here and say that without a shadow of a doubt I believe someone is out there for me. But I can say that I have dreamt and do dream of someone... so is that believing? It's the only hope I have I guess.
It would be so much more relaxing if I could just give up completely and not even think about it... not even dream about it. Then I wouldn't have to even wonder if I did believe.
See... I'm too confusing for someone to understand. No. I don't believe.
My friend Drew who I don't see very often at all turned 21 at midnight. He IMed me at about 9:30 to see if I would go downtown with him. I said sure even though I was home sick today and have my exams in the morning. I felt bad... it seemed as if he wasn't going to have anyone to go downtown with. So I went.
Drew and I always have really good, deep conversations. It's ironic seeing how we don't talk much... we are both really busy and when we do talk it's usually online. But when we do get a chance to see each other in person, we always talk about deep philosophical stuff.
Tonight, he asked how I was doing and stuff, and I said I was okay, but no one really understands me. He said he felt the same way, but he thought he could figure me out. Then he asked if I really would want to be understood, because knowing everything about someone is the difference between being a human being and being God. It made me think, but in the end, I answered that I do want someone to know all about me.
Isn't t hat what companionship is? Knowing everything about someone? I think my parents know everything about each other... seriously. Its a kind of relationship that is even closer than that of a parent and child... children are always going to hide things from their parents, but a true loving and honest marriage has no secrets. They know everything about each other.
So yes. I want someone to know all about me. But, once again, I know that person probably doesn't exist.
Since they don't exist, I stopped living by the words of This Year's Love. Yes, I have been waiting on my own too long... and I'm still waiting, obviously. What's the point in reminding myself that I am just waiting. Just today, I have been drawn to song lyrics that talk about believing (all American Idol songs, ironically). I want to believe... and I like these songs. So I'll hold on to these for a while. Whether I really believe or not, I can't tell. Truthfully, I don't believe... but that just sounds so horrible. So... I dunno.
This one song that I am listening to now, Dreams, talks about how we are just made of dreams. I mean, I do dream about it... is that believing enough? I honestly cannot sit here and say that without a shadow of a doubt I believe someone is out there for me. But I can say that I have dreamt and do dream of someone... so is that believing? It's the only hope I have I guess.
It would be so much more relaxing if I could just give up completely and not even think about it... not even dream about it. Then I wouldn't have to even wonder if I did believe.
See... I'm too confusing for someone to understand. No. I don't believe.
Monday, September 27, 2004
10:35 = BEDTIME!!!
It's 10:35 and I am preparing to go to bed. w00t! I haven't written in a while... but I thought I'd catch you and Smouse up on a few things.
1. I wore letters today for the first time since this summer. KKcrap has kinda been at a minimum as of late. Hopefully it will stay that way.
2. Alpha Phi Omega is well underway... so is the controversy...
3. I'm not really crushing anymore... on that individual that sang in my dream... although I think Alanis Morissette said it best when she named her album Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie.
4. This Year's Love is currently the song playing on the soundtrack of my life.
5. I teach my first lesson on Wednesday and I am actually pretty nervous.
6. I'm doing a pretty good job hiding all of my internal ish... as always, no one really understands me...
1. I wore letters today for the first time since this summer. KKcrap has kinda been at a minimum as of late. Hopefully it will stay that way.
2. Alpha Phi Omega is well underway... so is the controversy...
3. I'm not really crushing anymore... on that individual that sang in my dream... although I think Alanis Morissette said it best when she named her album Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie.
4. This Year's Love is currently the song playing on the soundtrack of my life.
5. I teach my first lesson on Wednesday and I am actually pretty nervous.
6. I'm doing a pretty good job hiding all of my internal ish... as always, no one really understands me...
Sunday, September 19, 2004
lets talk about something...
...because it's been a while since I have talked about ANYTHING. Last time I wrote in here, Smouse was the topic of discussion. This time, it's not going to be... We are going to tackle one of the many Ham Rules. Rule Number 9: No Self-Proclaimed Crushes. I tend to break this rule a lot. One may consider me spineless, or passive as some have said, but for some reason, I tend to break this rule a lot... this one which goes alont with Rule Number 4, The Alicia Keys Rule: Don't Fall. Yeah. I suck at these two. But I was thinking this weekend (for some VERY ODD reason, being on away band trips makes me think about things like this), what's so wrong with having a crush. I mean, I'm not saying that I have one or not. What I am saying is, I feel like I have behaved pretty well... Since being 21 and back at school, I haven't let emotional ish really drag me down a lot... I mean, the only thing that is pretty sad is my AIM profile... but it basically just gives a visual representation of a song lyric that I really relate to. Actually, I don't relate to This Year's Love at all. There is once again no love this year. Oh well. I have decided that is probably the way it is going to be.
I remember in 12th grade... like it was yesterday. We were in Teacher Cadets and Mr. T asked how many of us thought we would probably get married. I was the only one that didn't raise my hand. I have this sense... it's weird. Not just about marriage, but everything. If I can't see something in my mind happening, then I can pretty much tell it's not going to happen. Most of the time I usually apply it to taking trips and stuff. If I can't forsee it happening, I don't really look forward to it. Honestly, I never see anyone returning love for me in the way that I give them love. Like, I can see Kate and Deni walking down the aisle... I can even see my 30-something year old Aunt Irene getting married. But I can't see me doing it. Not just that, but I can't see myself even dating anyone. As sad as it sounds... I think it's the truth.
How do I feel about this? Well... it sucks. It sucks really bad. But, nuns and monks never marry. Maybe I am to be in the number with them. But that leads me to another question... Is there really anything wrong with self proclaimed crushes and falling? I mean, I know nothing is ever going to happen. So if I give into the attraction, nothing is harmed right. I have already told myself that I'm going to end up being a loner (a loner in a very posh home wearing really nice clothing, mind you). There really isn't anything wrong with crushing or falling.
But frankly, it's just not very attractive... to see someone swooning over someone else. It becomes annoying and frustrating... not just for onlookers, but for the person crushing. I'm not ever doing that again. I swear from this moment (9:11 pm on Sunday September, 19, 2004). No crushing. As for falling... you can't really help that. It's a bitch, it is... but there are some things about people that just make a spot in your heart tickle when you think about them... Honestly, I had a dream last night about someone... they sang a song. Not to me, but they sang... I feel that singing is one of the most beautiful forms of expression. When I heard this individual sing, it was beautiful... I cry when some people sing... I just do. I can't take it. Some people's singing evokes emotion within me. I woke up and wanted to cry. It was only a dream... the person prolly can't sing at all... but they sang in my dream.
Anyway... call it falling... I'm not going to crush anymore. Or maybe that's backwards... don't fall, but it's okay to crush... because in all seriousness, crushing is pretty innocent. People crush on movie stars. They can't really fall for movie stars. Falling would entail knowing someone and wanting to be with them. Crushing is pretty much just a feeling felt at a distance... you see someone walking on campus and they are cute, so you crush. Yeah. So no FALLING. Crushing... that's what you can't help. As for my particular situation with this singer... is that falling or crushing? Singing, to me, is a big deal. Hellifiknow. Nothing is going to happen. Just another notch on the old oak log. Another crush that won't turn into anything but a grain of sand in my hourglass of life.
I remember in 12th grade... like it was yesterday. We were in Teacher Cadets and Mr. T asked how many of us thought we would probably get married. I was the only one that didn't raise my hand. I have this sense... it's weird. Not just about marriage, but everything. If I can't see something in my mind happening, then I can pretty much tell it's not going to happen. Most of the time I usually apply it to taking trips and stuff. If I can't forsee it happening, I don't really look forward to it. Honestly, I never see anyone returning love for me in the way that I give them love. Like, I can see Kate and Deni walking down the aisle... I can even see my 30-something year old Aunt Irene getting married. But I can't see me doing it. Not just that, but I can't see myself even dating anyone. As sad as it sounds... I think it's the truth.
How do I feel about this? Well... it sucks. It sucks really bad. But, nuns and monks never marry. Maybe I am to be in the number with them. But that leads me to another question... Is there really anything wrong with self proclaimed crushes and falling? I mean, I know nothing is ever going to happen. So if I give into the attraction, nothing is harmed right. I have already told myself that I'm going to end up being a loner (a loner in a very posh home wearing really nice clothing, mind you). There really isn't anything wrong with crushing or falling.
But frankly, it's just not very attractive... to see someone swooning over someone else. It becomes annoying and frustrating... not just for onlookers, but for the person crushing. I'm not ever doing that again. I swear from this moment (9:11 pm on Sunday September, 19, 2004). No crushing. As for falling... you can't really help that. It's a bitch, it is... but there are some things about people that just make a spot in your heart tickle when you think about them... Honestly, I had a dream last night about someone... they sang a song. Not to me, but they sang... I feel that singing is one of the most beautiful forms of expression. When I heard this individual sing, it was beautiful... I cry when some people sing... I just do. I can't take it. Some people's singing evokes emotion within me. I woke up and wanted to cry. It was only a dream... the person prolly can't sing at all... but they sang in my dream.
Anyway... call it falling... I'm not going to crush anymore. Or maybe that's backwards... don't fall, but it's okay to crush... because in all seriousness, crushing is pretty innocent. People crush on movie stars. They can't really fall for movie stars. Falling would entail knowing someone and wanting to be with them. Crushing is pretty much just a feeling felt at a distance... you see someone walking on campus and they are cute, so you crush. Yeah. So no FALLING. Crushing... that's what you can't help. As for my particular situation with this singer... is that falling or crushing? Singing, to me, is a big deal. Hellifiknow. Nothing is going to happen. Just another notch on the old oak log. Another crush that won't turn into anything but a grain of sand in my hourglass of life.
Monday, September 13, 2004
i have a clue
...and within 28 minutes, I have a guess as to your identity, Smouse. First of all, I pose this question... is it possible that you were up at 6:53 and are up now at 7:21 like me... and getting ready to go to your practicum school??? ;-)
please notice the post time...
At the bottom of this entry, it says the time that the entry was posted. Smouse, honey... I want you to take a good look at the time at the bottom of it. Yes. 6:53 am. While you were probably enjoying sweet slumber, I am up writing about you. And you know what? I SHOULD be getting ready for school. Technically, I am supposed to be at Central Elementary at 7:30... but no... you are more important to me, Smouse. Actually... your identity or lack thereof is driving me nuts.
I was talking to Erin on Saturday before the game... walking up to where we start the parade (also take not of this, Smouse... shouldn't the performance be on our minds, not the identity of a fabulous person named Smouse?), and Erin asks if I have any clue as to who you are. And I say no. Then she proceeds to tell me about how in high school, she used to get candy grams and stuff from some mysterious person named "C.M." (or something like that). She checked the yearbook for all the guys with those initials, but she came up with nothing. To this day, Erin has no clue who this character was.
Smouse, I don't want to go on living like this! THROW ME A FREAKING BONE, HERE! But I really don't want you to just come out and say it... it would be much cooler if you gave me hints. But I'll go ahead and tell you this. You are a girl, you aren't in band ('cause you posted a comment during band rehearsal), I am probably not the only person you know in band, and (of course) I think you go to Clemson. I have no idea where Smouse came from... whether it is a nickname, or some derivative of your real name, or whether you like mice (which would make me think that you are an AKA... I love them).
Anyway, Smouse, I need to go get ready so I can sit through another day of class at Central. Please take this blog to heart. With every comment you write, you lead me on like a Tri-Dilta leads on a frat pledge (as Sarah would say).
I was talking to Erin on Saturday before the game... walking up to where we start the parade (also take not of this, Smouse... shouldn't the performance be on our minds, not the identity of a fabulous person named Smouse?), and Erin asks if I have any clue as to who you are. And I say no. Then she proceeds to tell me about how in high school, she used to get candy grams and stuff from some mysterious person named "C.M." (or something like that). She checked the yearbook for all the guys with those initials, but she came up with nothing. To this day, Erin has no clue who this character was.
Smouse, I don't want to go on living like this! THROW ME A FREAKING BONE, HERE! But I really don't want you to just come out and say it... it would be much cooler if you gave me hints. But I'll go ahead and tell you this. You are a girl, you aren't in band ('cause you posted a comment during band rehearsal), I am probably not the only person you know in band, and (of course) I think you go to Clemson. I have no idea where Smouse came from... whether it is a nickname, or some derivative of your real name, or whether you like mice (which would make me think that you are an AKA... I love them).
Anyway, Smouse, I need to go get ready so I can sit through another day of class at Central. Please take this blog to heart. With every comment you write, you lead me on like a Tri-Dilta leads on a frat pledge (as Sarah would say).
Friday, September 10, 2004
losers
I am surrounded by losers... in every shape form and fashion. I am sorry... and I don't mean to be mean. But when people are mean or just plain old intolerable, they get the title of LOSER. I am just a little upset with several people and groups of people right now. Due to the popularity of this blog and how much of an overnight celebrity I am (I know you liked my rendition earlier today), I am not going to name names and point fingers. Lets just say... George W. Bush wannabe, prehistoric animal, a bunch of retard moo cows, daytime children's programming, Designing Women, the whole R&B community... they all piss me off.
LOSERS
pen and paper
I hope that this writing thing takes me somewhere... I just realized that I am pretty much obsessed... last night in an interview with the entire chapter of Alpha PHI Omega (not Chi... those chicks kinda had it out for me after The Tiger last week), someone asked me what 3 things I would take with me if I were stuck on a desert island. Without hesitation, I said a pen and paper... to document the situation. Wow. I am a writing FIEND.
As for The Tiger, I have gotten a vast assortment of reactions from it... most people LOVED it. Some other people didn't enjoy it so much... you know, those sorors of the lyre... After talking to Cassie and Kate about it, I decided to apologize to the president, because even though I didn't mention her name or Alpha Chi Omega, the entire Greek community knows who it is about. The funny thing is... DAMN... that's a buttload of people. So, nest week in The Tiger, I'm going to talk about how small Clemson really is... and how easy it is to get 150 girls mad at you.
Which leads me to my next observation... Dang a lot of people know me. Not EVEN trying to boast. I mean seriously. There are just an immense amount of people who claim to know me. I was talking to Rachie the other day and she said that being in the band means that you don't have a personal life... Well, along with being in the band, being a drum major, and now being a columnist in The Tiger, everyone seems to know Hamilton. I am beginning to feel the way I felt last year... as Alanis Morrissette says in "Not the Doctor:" "I don't want to be your idol, you see this pedastal is high and I'm afraid of heights." AND NOW BEFORE YOU GO THINKIN' I'M HOT ISH, Jason Grygier told me that that was how I was feeling... I don't think I'm an idol... you little groundling, you...
Anyway, another song comes to mind when I think of living in the limelight... "Overnight Celebrity."
Why don't we...
Write somethin' these ho's will like?
Write shit that's so damn tight
Ham P, you told 'em right?
I can make you a celebrity overnight
Give you ice with the blogs I write
Everybody thinks they know me, right?
Every Saturday I wear white
Holy shit! I'm a celebrity overnight
Seriously... I'm not trying to have a big head. But I just can't get over how many people claimed to know me after my article last week. Ironically though (and this will be addressed in next week's article), at Clemson, everyone is pretty much a celebrity... it just takes you doing something that draws attention to you for you to notice...
As for The Tiger, I have gotten a vast assortment of reactions from it... most people LOVED it. Some other people didn't enjoy it so much... you know, those sorors of the lyre... After talking to Cassie and Kate about it, I decided to apologize to the president, because even though I didn't mention her name or Alpha Chi Omega, the entire Greek community knows who it is about. The funny thing is... DAMN... that's a buttload of people. So, nest week in The Tiger, I'm going to talk about how small Clemson really is... and how easy it is to get 150 girls mad at you.
Which leads me to my next observation... Dang a lot of people know me. Not EVEN trying to boast. I mean seriously. There are just an immense amount of people who claim to know me. I was talking to Rachie the other day and she said that being in the band means that you don't have a personal life... Well, along with being in the band, being a drum major, and now being a columnist in The Tiger, everyone seems to know Hamilton. I am beginning to feel the way I felt last year... as Alanis Morrissette says in "Not the Doctor:" "I don't want to be your idol, you see this pedastal is high and I'm afraid of heights." AND NOW BEFORE YOU GO THINKIN' I'M HOT ISH, Jason Grygier told me that that was how I was feeling... I don't think I'm an idol... you little groundling, you...
Anyway, another song comes to mind when I think of living in the limelight... "Overnight Celebrity."
Why don't we...
Write somethin' these ho's will like?
Write shit that's so damn tight
Ham P, you told 'em right?
I can make you a celebrity overnight
Give you ice with the blogs I write
Everybody thinks they know me, right?
Every Saturday I wear white
Holy shit! I'm a celebrity overnight
Seriously... I'm not trying to have a big head. But I just can't get over how many people claimed to know me after my article last week. Ironically though (and this will be addressed in next week's article), at Clemson, everyone is pretty much a celebrity... it just takes you doing something that draws attention to you for you to notice...
Monday, September 06, 2004
sounding off
I am pissed. Why? Well, it is not because of our dear friend Adria, nor is it because I don't know the identity of the wonderful person that is Smouse. I am pissed because I am not black enough? No, don't get me wrong, I am not trying to be as dark as James Hanna... according to some people, he is not black enough either (how in the hell, I have no idea).
The reason James and I are not black enough apparently has nothing to do with the color of our skin. I don't know when black started being defined as a lifestyle, not just a race. But apparently, I deny my blackness. I don't live like a black individual ought. But then again, I guess the whole reason that I don't is because I am ignorant... I don't know HOW a black individual ought.
Now, if one of these utterly tragic people who are telling me that I deny my blackness thinks that because I don't hang out with only black people, talk a certain way, walk a certain way, eat certain foods, or live a certain way, then they are a disgrace to the ever so fabulous color that is their skin. Being black is not about what you do, wear, say, eat, or live. Being black is simply that... being black. Why can't people see that walking around in a diverse community wearing a skin color that is not the majority is a beautiful thing? That is special enough. Why is it that some black people feel that they must make a name for themselves, or (THANK YOU EVER SO MUCH) for EVERYONE. They have to all congregate together because "nobody knows the trouble (we)'ve seen / nobody knows (our) sorrow." My GOD! Grow up and get your mind out of your little afro-centric mind. This is not a black and white world. This is a world of MANY colors and types of people... to shut oneself off to only the people that are like them is ridiculous.
Now, even saying all of this, I guess that I am not the most valid source of opinion. I was raised in a predominantly white community and have always had more white friends than black friends... but you know one thing? Never in my existence, have I ever wanted to be white. What kind of person would I be if I was white? I would not be the person that I am today. I have learned so much about life from being black, and I am proud to say that I am one. I am NOT proud, however, to associate with black individuals that are so shallow to think that ALL black people are supposed to hang out with one another and be the ever so strong backbone for each other because it's such a cruel world and the white man is all about trampling all over us and seeing us fail! Forgive me please, but BULL SHIT!
If ANYONE is prejudice... it is black people. I am quite serious when I say this. In the past, white individuals were people who looked down on blacks and did not like to see us prosper. But thanks to individuals like Martin Luther King, Jr. who not only wanted to see black people succeed, but see blacks and whites live together harmoniously, many white people have learned from the ways of their forfathers and accept blacks and other minorities as fellow human beings. The world is too diverse for them to truly think that they as white people are a superior race. There are so many different races and cultures with wonderful things about them for whites to think that. Of course there are some who are still grand wizards and grand dragons and stuff, but the decent white people FAR outweigh the indecent ones. As for the black community, I am almost certain that there are more of them that are prejudiced against white people than whites that are prejudiced against them. How do I know this? Why is it common to see a couple black people scattered amongst a group of white people, but when there are a few white people in the midst of many black people, people start scratching their heads? Why are there colleges and universities, and then there are historically black colleges and universities? Why do I get looked down on by individuals at South Carolina State, because there are more black people at their entire school than there are at my school? Why is it okay to have BET, when if there was a WET, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton would raise hell and call a boycott for cable television?
I'm not saying that there needs to be a WET or there need to be schools solely for white individuals. All I'm saying is, the time has passed for segregation. Look at this... George W. Bush, Gen. Colin Powell, and Condoleeza Rice; Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul, and Randy Jackson (they even got a latina up in there!); Jay Leno and Kevin Eubanks. I mean, come on. OPEN YOUR EYES, PEOPLE. THE WORLD IS NOT AS TERRIBLE AS YOU THINK IT IS. IT IS OKAY TO HAVE FRIENDS THAT AREN'T EXACTLY LIKE YOU!
And the next time you think I am denying my blackness, ask yourself, if you are just denying yourself as a human being.
The reason James and I are not black enough apparently has nothing to do with the color of our skin. I don't know when black started being defined as a lifestyle, not just a race. But apparently, I deny my blackness. I don't live like a black individual ought. But then again, I guess the whole reason that I don't is because I am ignorant... I don't know HOW a black individual ought.
Now, if one of these utterly tragic people who are telling me that I deny my blackness thinks that because I don't hang out with only black people, talk a certain way, walk a certain way, eat certain foods, or live a certain way, then they are a disgrace to the ever so fabulous color that is their skin. Being black is not about what you do, wear, say, eat, or live. Being black is simply that... being black. Why can't people see that walking around in a diverse community wearing a skin color that is not the majority is a beautiful thing? That is special enough. Why is it that some black people feel that they must make a name for themselves, or (THANK YOU EVER SO MUCH) for EVERYONE. They have to all congregate together because "nobody knows the trouble (we)'ve seen / nobody knows (our) sorrow." My GOD! Grow up and get your mind out of your little afro-centric mind. This is not a black and white world. This is a world of MANY colors and types of people... to shut oneself off to only the people that are like them is ridiculous.
Now, even saying all of this, I guess that I am not the most valid source of opinion. I was raised in a predominantly white community and have always had more white friends than black friends... but you know one thing? Never in my existence, have I ever wanted to be white. What kind of person would I be if I was white? I would not be the person that I am today. I have learned so much about life from being black, and I am proud to say that I am one. I am NOT proud, however, to associate with black individuals that are so shallow to think that ALL black people are supposed to hang out with one another and be the ever so strong backbone for each other because it's such a cruel world and the white man is all about trampling all over us and seeing us fail! Forgive me please, but BULL SHIT!
If ANYONE is prejudice... it is black people. I am quite serious when I say this. In the past, white individuals were people who looked down on blacks and did not like to see us prosper. But thanks to individuals like Martin Luther King, Jr. who not only wanted to see black people succeed, but see blacks and whites live together harmoniously, many white people have learned from the ways of their forfathers and accept blacks and other minorities as fellow human beings. The world is too diverse for them to truly think that they as white people are a superior race. There are so many different races and cultures with wonderful things about them for whites to think that. Of course there are some who are still grand wizards and grand dragons and stuff, but the decent white people FAR outweigh the indecent ones. As for the black community, I am almost certain that there are more of them that are prejudiced against white people than whites that are prejudiced against them. How do I know this? Why is it common to see a couple black people scattered amongst a group of white people, but when there are a few white people in the midst of many black people, people start scratching their heads? Why are there colleges and universities, and then there are historically black colleges and universities? Why do I get looked down on by individuals at South Carolina State, because there are more black people at their entire school than there are at my school? Why is it okay to have BET, when if there was a WET, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton would raise hell and call a boycott for cable television?
I'm not saying that there needs to be a WET or there need to be schools solely for white individuals. All I'm saying is, the time has passed for segregation. Look at this... George W. Bush, Gen. Colin Powell, and Condoleeza Rice; Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul, and Randy Jackson (they even got a latina up in there!); Jay Leno and Kevin Eubanks. I mean, come on. OPEN YOUR EYES, PEOPLE. THE WORLD IS NOT AS TERRIBLE AS YOU THINK IT IS. IT IS OKAY TO HAVE FRIENDS THAT AREN'T EXACTLY LIKE YOU!
And the next time you think I am denying my blackness, ask yourself, if you are just denying yourself as a human being.
Friday, September 03, 2004
smouse
Okay, now you faithful readers know that it is not uncommon for me to devote a whole entry to one person... that is what I am doing in this case. Smouse... whoever you are... I love you. I am serious. I don't mean the play play kind of love that people say to their friends when they sign letters, or the type of love that people say when they say the obligatory "Love ya!" Just for future reference, that type of love is pretty much just hearsay... if someone really loves you, they would say "I love you." As I have just said to this Smouse individual.
Smouse, I love you in the way that means if you were about to get hit by a car, I would run out and push you out of the way and put my own life in danger. I love you so much that if I had to choose between money and you, I'd choose you. Yes. I love you that much. Why? Well, its obviously because I have no earthly idea who you are, but you still motivate me through your little messages. I mean, dang... I really do feel like I have a fairy godmother (by the way, Smouse... that just told me that you are obviously a girl... thanks for that). The only scary thing about this is that this person probably sees me and I have no clue about it. Weird. It's kinda like how I ended up on the back of The Orange & White and I didn't even see anyone take my picture.
Anyway, thank you Smouse... for the anonymous encouragement. It is HIGHLY appreciated. And just so you know, Smouse, Tiger Band is definitely ready to "Shake the Southland" this afternoon at the First Friday parade and pep rally and tomorrow at the football game. I have a whole new outlook on the show since Wednesday, Smouse. I talked to Jeff Norman, our visual consultant and drum major coach and he told me that I need to get back into the show. Apparently, he and other people in the band have been able to tell that I haven't been as excited about the piece since before the pre-season performance 2 Saturdays ago. A lot of the problem with the show and the tempo problems and stuff aren't my fault. Actually, it's not really one person's fault or one section's fault. Everyone is doing their best, Smouse... it's just that in a way we are all trying so hard that we aren't really all on the same page. The thing that is going to make things a lot better is an INSANELY tight connection with the drumline and a RIDICULOUSLY tight connection between the band and me... ME... NOT the drumline. No, Smouse, I don't want all the attention on me, it's just that they are listening down and not watching. And now that I think about it, they need to be watching A drum major... not necessarily me, but either Kate, Leroy, or Lindsey would work too.
Okay, Smouse... sorry to bore you with more band stuff. Speaking of band though, Smouse... today, the band was liberated from years of scrutiny and persecution. My editorial about dear Alpha Chi president was published... although you and everyone else should know, Smouse, that I did not say that it was the Alpha Chi president. I said that it was "a sorority president." No names were mentioned, so I did not slander that tragic girl in front of the entire Clemson community. But, I will slander her here online... the whole internet community. MUAH HA HA HA HA! Sorry, Smouse... I got carried away there. Anyway, Betsy and Erin both left me messages saying that it was a good article. Willene just called me saying she had to give me my props about the article and she said the girl had what was coming to her. HAHA! I haven't even seen the thing in print yet. We went to campus at midnight last night to see if they had put any out yet, but they hadn't. So, I am waiting on Nick to get home with one so I can see it... and the tragic picture I took Wednesday after being in the classroom all day and a 2 hour band practice...
So anyway Smouse, once again, thanks a lot for being there... wherever you are. You rock my face off. I want to be you for halloween.
Smouse, I love you in the way that means if you were about to get hit by a car, I would run out and push you out of the way and put my own life in danger. I love you so much that if I had to choose between money and you, I'd choose you. Yes. I love you that much. Why? Well, its obviously because I have no earthly idea who you are, but you still motivate me through your little messages. I mean, dang... I really do feel like I have a fairy godmother (by the way, Smouse... that just told me that you are obviously a girl... thanks for that). The only scary thing about this is that this person probably sees me and I have no clue about it. Weird. It's kinda like how I ended up on the back of The Orange & White and I didn't even see anyone take my picture.
Anyway, thank you Smouse... for the anonymous encouragement. It is HIGHLY appreciated. And just so you know, Smouse, Tiger Band is definitely ready to "Shake the Southland" this afternoon at the First Friday parade and pep rally and tomorrow at the football game. I have a whole new outlook on the show since Wednesday, Smouse. I talked to Jeff Norman, our visual consultant and drum major coach and he told me that I need to get back into the show. Apparently, he and other people in the band have been able to tell that I haven't been as excited about the piece since before the pre-season performance 2 Saturdays ago. A lot of the problem with the show and the tempo problems and stuff aren't my fault. Actually, it's not really one person's fault or one section's fault. Everyone is doing their best, Smouse... it's just that in a way we are all trying so hard that we aren't really all on the same page. The thing that is going to make things a lot better is an INSANELY tight connection with the drumline and a RIDICULOUSLY tight connection between the band and me... ME... NOT the drumline. No, Smouse, I don't want all the attention on me, it's just that they are listening down and not watching. And now that I think about it, they need to be watching A drum major... not necessarily me, but either Kate, Leroy, or Lindsey would work too.
Okay, Smouse... sorry to bore you with more band stuff. Speaking of band though, Smouse... today, the band was liberated from years of scrutiny and persecution. My editorial about dear Alpha Chi president was published... although you and everyone else should know, Smouse, that I did not say that it was the Alpha Chi president. I said that it was "a sorority president." No names were mentioned, so I did not slander that tragic girl in front of the entire Clemson community. But, I will slander her here online... the whole internet community. MUAH HA HA HA HA! Sorry, Smouse... I got carried away there. Anyway, Betsy and Erin both left me messages saying that it was a good article. Willene just called me saying she had to give me my props about the article and she said the girl had what was coming to her. HAHA! I haven't even seen the thing in print yet. We went to campus at midnight last night to see if they had put any out yet, but they hadn't. So, I am waiting on Nick to get home with one so I can see it... and the tragic picture I took Wednesday after being in the classroom all day and a 2 hour band practice...
So anyway Smouse, once again, thanks a lot for being there... wherever you are. You rock my face off. I want to be you for halloween.
Monday, August 30, 2004
the problem with captain
OMG. And the saga continues... Captain from Castille. Dr. Spede only wants the captain heading west at say... 20 knots. The band wants the captain heading west at like 220 knots. So today, I decided to talk to good ol' Spedie about this dilemma and he told me that for practice sake, we need to take it slow... and that it is too early in the season to take it that pre-season performance/Madison Scouts speed. Okay, I said. We both got up on the podium (I hate it when he stands up there with me... I get so nervous) and he said, "Lemme see 168 (which is the supposed tempo of Captain)." I showed it to him, and he agreed that it was correct. Okay, so we are on the same page... I start out the song... "tweeeet... tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet." WHAT THE HELL?! The drummers have taken control of the captain's ship, turned it around and have it heading toward land at like 300 knots! And at this point, even I was scared it was going to fall apart.
Well, after THAT was over, there was tons of cheers... the band and even some of the people sitting on the sidelines LOVED it. I'm serious... CHEERS. At the next water break, there were kudos all around. I couldn't even take credit for it. It was the drummers. I am so appreciative of them, but why did they do it?
Even with how great it was, I feel like I don't have any control of it.
DM/CUD practice is tomorrow... answers, please...
And also... answers as to who Smouse is! Thanks for the comment... I appreciated it. But, who are you?
Well, after THAT was over, there was tons of cheers... the band and even some of the people sitting on the sidelines LOVED it. I'm serious... CHEERS. At the next water break, there were kudos all around. I couldn't even take credit for it. It was the drummers. I am so appreciative of them, but why did they do it?
Even with how great it was, I feel like I don't have any control of it.
DM/CUD practice is tomorrow... answers, please...
And also... answers as to who Smouse is! Thanks for the comment... I appreciated it. But, who are you?
Saturday, August 28, 2004
the last weekend of freedom
Well, this is it... the final Saturday before football season. In all honesty, I have to say that I am ready for a little football. But, today has been really nice. I got to sleep in, then go to THE BRAND NEW WAL MART IN CENTRAL (I kid you not... that is how excited I am about that place). Nick and I went there with Bobby, who would definitely have to be coolest freshman so far. We went to tragic Anderson Mall too. It was all together a really good day. Right now, I am takin' a little load off, since I just got done cleaning up Justin's and my bathroom (it's ironic how I don't mind doing it here, but I HATE doing it when I'm at home).
Anyway, I know that I have become severely tragic when it comes to updating this thing. My life is really busy, and while I can't make any promises really, I promise to write at least once a week. As for dumb pe0ple... I see dumb pe0ple living on in The Tiger this year. I mean, I did write about a dumb person for my first column. It was about the re-re Alpha Chi president. Love Alpha Chi... just not her.
In other news, Tiger Band is going well (I know you were wondering... it seems like all anyone ever asks me anymore is "How is band?"). I think by Saturday, we will be krunk like no other. We are definitely getting there. The only problem I have is with my song. Yes... f-ing Captain. It's a GREAT song... don't get me wrong (yay for a rhyme), but I feel like Dr. Spede is stifling how great it could be! Yesterday at practice, I was so pissed. He told me that I was too excited and that I was pushing the band on too much. He also said that last Saturday at the pre-season performance, it was incredibly too fast. The ironic thing about this, is that EVERYONE in the band thought that it was so much better that fast. Dr. Spede almost had an anxiety attack, but in the end it turned out really well. I can clearly remember Dr. Buyer telling me good job as soon as I got down from the podium. It was fast, but I had it in control. Yesterday, he basically told me that I was pushing them too much and that I was making them go too fast. What I don't understand is how I could start the right speed and then all of a sudden speed up in different parts of the song... There are no accelerandos in the song. I'll tell you what my theory is... I start out the tragically slow tempo that Dr. Spede wants it and the drums, who have told me before, take it at the speed they know it to be. That means that even if I start it super slow or outrageously fast, they are going to pretty much play it the speed it is supposed to be... UNLESS a "Crazy in Love" moment happens... where I hear the drum captain tell the line to take it at whatever speed I want it to be and they just follow along (that happened at 90 minutes before kickoff once last year). Anyway, I start really slow because Dr. Spede wants me to, and the drums take it faster because they can... the rest of the band pretty much has all concentration between marching and their music... so I am pretty much aware that they are not watching me... BUT the drummers are... and they expect me to be with them because they ARE looking at me... despite whether the tempo I counted off was to their approval or not. So, I end up wuRkeng it hard up on the podium, while the band who is not watching me listens down to the super-psychotic drummers who are hacking at whatever speed they feel is necessary. You see the pattern? It's confusing I know, but I do believe this is the problem. And this is the solution: PLAY THE SONG FASTER. Everyone will enjoy it faster... mainly the drummers and I, 'cause I feel that the winds are gonna go with whatever we do. So, I think I'm going to talk to Spede about maybe taking it the actual Madison Scouts speed.
Sorry to bore you non-musical readers with that band mumbo jumbo. Maybe when people ask me "How's band?" I should just bore them with stuff like that. However, I do see people asking in the future, "How is teaching?" and possibly even "How is pledging?"
Anyway, I know that I have become severely tragic when it comes to updating this thing. My life is really busy, and while I can't make any promises really, I promise to write at least once a week. As for dumb pe0ple... I see dumb pe0ple living on in The Tiger this year. I mean, I did write about a dumb person for my first column. It was about the re-re Alpha Chi president. Love Alpha Chi... just not her.
In other news, Tiger Band is going well (I know you were wondering... it seems like all anyone ever asks me anymore is "How is band?"). I think by Saturday, we will be krunk like no other. We are definitely getting there. The only problem I have is with my song. Yes... f-ing Captain. It's a GREAT song... don't get me wrong (yay for a rhyme), but I feel like Dr. Spede is stifling how great it could be! Yesterday at practice, I was so pissed. He told me that I was too excited and that I was pushing the band on too much. He also said that last Saturday at the pre-season performance, it was incredibly too fast. The ironic thing about this, is that EVERYONE in the band thought that it was so much better that fast. Dr. Spede almost had an anxiety attack, but in the end it turned out really well. I can clearly remember Dr. Buyer telling me good job as soon as I got down from the podium. It was fast, but I had it in control. Yesterday, he basically told me that I was pushing them too much and that I was making them go too fast. What I don't understand is how I could start the right speed and then all of a sudden speed up in different parts of the song... There are no accelerandos in the song. I'll tell you what my theory is... I start out the tragically slow tempo that Dr. Spede wants it and the drums, who have told me before, take it at the speed they know it to be. That means that even if I start it super slow or outrageously fast, they are going to pretty much play it the speed it is supposed to be... UNLESS a "Crazy in Love" moment happens... where I hear the drum captain tell the line to take it at whatever speed I want it to be and they just follow along (that happened at 90 minutes before kickoff once last year). Anyway, I start really slow because Dr. Spede wants me to, and the drums take it faster because they can... the rest of the band pretty much has all concentration between marching and their music... so I am pretty much aware that they are not watching me... BUT the drummers are... and they expect me to be with them because they ARE looking at me... despite whether the tempo I counted off was to their approval or not. So, I end up wuRkeng it hard up on the podium, while the band who is not watching me listens down to the super-psychotic drummers who are hacking at whatever speed they feel is necessary. You see the pattern? It's confusing I know, but I do believe this is the problem. And this is the solution: PLAY THE SONG FASTER. Everyone will enjoy it faster... mainly the drummers and I, 'cause I feel that the winds are gonna go with whatever we do. So, I think I'm going to talk to Spede about maybe taking it the actual Madison Scouts speed.
Sorry to bore you non-musical readers with that band mumbo jumbo. Maybe when people ask me "How's band?" I should just bore them with stuff like that. However, I do see people asking in the future, "How is teaching?" and possibly even "How is pledging?"
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