10 XII 2001 - 21:09 - vita12

I started writing an entry today at school because I got out of PE ten minutes early. I got out of PE ten minutes early because - well, I'll copy and paste what I had before, and take it from there.

So I should be writing my English reflection now because I'm sure as hell not going to have time to do it tonight (yeah, tonight I have a lesson - and on three hours of sleep and even less practice, this is not a good thing), but instead I'm writing an entry. Why is this so? I'm not all that sure; it must be some force in my blood that makes me procrastinate (yes, of course it is.) The keyboard on this computer is driving me crazy; if I weren't pounding every key, the entry would be missing a couple of letters here and there - c's and o's and s's and t's. Whine whine whine.

I found out today that I don't have to go to PE this week, which is wonderful, because it means I get out early on Thursday. It would have been nice to know before thirty-five minutes of my PE period today had passed, however. The teacher said something like "oops, I forgot you weren't here on Friday, I'm sorry." Gragh. Maybe I'll practice with the time I get from being able to leave school about two hours early on Thursday. Knowing me, however, I will use that time to watch the four hours' worth of videotape I have in the VCR (three hours of Buffy and one hour of Angel - yes, I'm sad, don't tell me I don't have a life, I already know that.)

God, I wish I had more time to do all my reflections and get to all my rehearsals and get enough sleep. Sleep would be nice, because that would prevent me from looking like some zombie (not that I don't already, but you know, I really like to kid myself.)

I must apologize now for being an idiot and giving people the wrong day for the start of Hanukkah (although you do know that if you're coming here to find out when Hanukkah, there is something terribly, terribly wrong, right?). Hanukkah started yesterday at sundown, and poor little goy j. was too tired and dumb to figure that out from his calendar, which marked it as the tenth. Although maybe I should get some credit for remembering that the day starts at sundown? Never mind.

So, my English teacher hated my most recent essay almost as much as I did, except that for some reason she came down really hard across the board. Why am I mentioning this here? That's a very good question. As usual, my answer is "I'm not quite sure myself." I'm getting sort of annoyed with myself, however; every time we turn in papers, she makes us write down what we think is good and bad about our paper, then promises not to read them until after she's written her comments. I know she generally doesn't because I've seen comment sheets for other people that have first her comments (different from the notes people took), then a reply to the notes. (Or maybe she's just being sneaky, but that thought makes my head hurt, so I'll stop that now.) Except every single time I've turned a paper in, her comments and my comments have been the same. Which leads me to wonder: if I already know what's wrong with my paper, why don't I just fix it?

Heh, that's a good question; trying to think about it also makes my head hurt, so I will go back to our regularly scheduled fluff.

Things are otherwise back nearly to normal despite the busy schedule and all; must remember to ask B. about how his performance up in Sac went. With him, it's always been a little weird, but we're back to our particular brand of weirdness now, more or less. That came out really convoluted and possibly intelligible to only Al. *sigh* Speaking of Al, it seems as if all the UHS people I know are password-protecting their diaries. Which would make sense because they've been really worried that their parents will find their diaries, and I guess I sort of suggested it in the first place. I don't know, though; I know how happy random visitors make at least one of them, and people won't be able to get in randomly any more. Huh.

We now return to our regularly scheduled male grunting.

We listened to tapes of the winter concert in orchestra today - I would much rather have played, because I already knew how we sounded and what was sort of good and what was definitely bad and I didn't want it all to be played back at me so I could cringe at it again. The worst part is when you know it doesn't sound as good as you could have made it and then everyone else refuses to agree with you. Great; not only do you feel awful because you know you could have done better, you also feel awful because people are treating you as if you've gone insane. That's what I really hated; listening to my solos, thinking "wow, if I'd moved it a bit more it would have been a lot better," and then (after cringing) having people tell me "no, it sounded fine." Jesus God. If I thought it sounded fine, I wouldn't be cringing, would I? Granted, it's sweet and all, and I suppose I'll do it too on occasion, but it drives me up the wall when all I want to do is curl up in a little dark corner and brood about how it could have been better.

Actually, just sitting in a corner and brooding about life in general seems like a good plan now. Then I wouldn't have to deal with my reflection for English except in the broadest of ways. My God, if T. could hear me talk... she'd accuse me of taking Angel as my role model again. Brooding, glowering, and making really vague comments... yep, it's time to run and hide about... now.

I'm not feeling very inspired by the poetica-collab topic this month, so I don't think I'll be doing that for December. How exactly does one sum up a year? And the other topic is no better: form is my enemy. I can't force things into a sonnet and there's no way I'm going to be able to force them into terza rima. So that's settled; no terza rima for me. (Yes, I know, I will never be a poetwritermusician, no discipline at all; you can stop shaking your head now. And take these semicolons with you!)

While I don't feel all that enthusiastic about poetica-collab, Alchera does seem interesting in general. I think maybe I can take a break from poetica-collab for this month (careful, shouldn't let that get to be a habit) and try my hand at Alchera, if they'll take me. Mythology has always been a pet of mine, and I know I want to think about Juno, Jupiter, Hebe, and Ganymede...

I'm out, then. Have a good night.

virtus, virtutis f. manliness, manhood; goodness, virtue; excellence, worth; resolution, valor

You know, b.-uhs asked me today whether I was gay. It's odd; for several reasons, I've lived for the past year and a half as if it's just been obvious that I am, you know, stamped-on-forehead type obvious. Certainly it seems clear enough to me from these diary entries (although, ha, because these diary entries are really clear only to me). And again; yesterday, somebody at the store where I was volunteering just asked me whether I was out to my school, no preface. I wonder...

Perhaps Al can help me with this. Is is that obvious? Just from the way I act?

And no, b.-uhs; although we would make a wonderfully destructive couple, neither Al nor T. is my girlfriend.

Cheers.

To be added at 11:30ish: still haven't started my homework, go figure. But I wanted to bring something else up: it's interesting to note how people express disgust at how they moon over people. Al says that she sounds "like a 6th grader," Adam says that he sounds like an "angsty teenage diarylander," plenty of adults say they just sound like "teenagers," and... well, I say that I sound like "those boy-crazy girls that I used to mock, but Jesus God, I've become one of them now, save for the girl part, and I should shoot myself now and have done with it." But no, because then the world would cease to exist, yes?

No.