[ 01-03-04 ] [ 11:26 a.m.]
[ A bunch of crap about nothing ]

Okay. I've put this off long enough, I suppose. Or maybe I've just been distracted. Whatever. All that I can truly say is that I hope I'm finally back completely, and honestly, I should be, what for all the time I spent this morning cleaning up this account that had previously gotten so overgrown that it was starting to look like a literary jungle.

Maybe some of the reason that I haven't been writing regularly is that I really don't have much to say. I mean, if anyone can live a repetitive life, it's me. What's interesting about going to school, through the same classes with the same people, every day? Absolutely nothing. (Hence why I get so bored with school so easily.) The challenge in journaling a boring life comes with having to find new and interesting ways to say the same thing over and over and over so people will be fooled into thinking you're a really great writer and an interesting person and are leading an extraordinary enough life to keep them coming back for more. Yeah, really. If you guys lived my life, you'd probably be screaming in frustration out of sheer boredom. God knows I do.

But I digress. Frequently.

So. Lately I've been working on (and don't laugh, please for the love of God) a score for a movie. The sad thing about this is that I have no movie to set the score to. I'm just writing a bunch of songs that have no words that sound like they belong in a movie. Now this is the kind of thing people do when they're really fucking bored. How many other things could I be doing with my time that don't involve writing music for a movie that doesn't even exist? Even dicking around on my old piece of shit of a computer (which is comatose, no thanks to my mom forcing me to change around my bedroom for the lamp I got for Christmas) is worth more than this. Quite frankly, after I die or lose all my memory the only people that will know that this score even existed will be Liz and Carol, since they heard me writing some of it. I don't intend to write any of the music down. I write with my ears and my fingers. Pencil and stave paper are for people with short-term memory loss. All of the songs I've ever written are stored away in my memory, which means that if I die the world will be short a couple of Grammy-quality songs. *snort*

I'm supposed to be at practice right now, but I'm ignoring my cell phone and will continue to ignore it because I just really don't want to go sit in a basement with a bunch of guys for three hours. Even if one of those guys is Chad. I just don't want to do it, damn it. I fully realize that Chad will never stop bugging me until I give in, but I don't care, because I'm more stubborn than he is. I'm a lazy blob. I admit it. Now comes acceptance - you get to deal with it.

*groans* I'm getting really sick of hearing "the Maple Leaf Rag". SHUT UP, STUPID CELL PHONE! I'm not answering you! *bangs it against the wall, then calmly turns it off* Better.

Well, there goes any chance of me getting on Chad's good side. Ah, well. The sacrifices we must make to be lazy.

Shit. Chad got me on the house phone. Looks like I have to go to practice now. Damn.

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