Tired. Dur. Let's see... we didn't place at the Open. Paragould beat us. How pathetic. We're definitely better than Paragould. We got best overally drum major, though. And first division band. First division colorguard. Other stuff. Also a 1 at region. Overall, an excellent marching season. But now I have to play the clarinet again. I hate playing the third part. None of the other people on it make noise. Perhaps the concept of blowing air through the mouthpiece has escaped them. Rachel has a big long important solo in "In the Bleak Widwinter," or whatever it's called. Cheesy stuff. I'm sure Holst's original version wasn't, but then someone let Robert W. Smith get his grubby little hands on it. Ah. I have promised to try out for all-region. Now must do icky practicing, and miss Beta Club state convention. Not that it's that thrilling, but it's in Hot Springs and I told everyone at ASMS that I would be there. I don't think they care anymore, though, except for Bobbie, because no one ever emailed me.

I don't do RPGs on telnet anymore. Now I play a Harry Potter-type role-playing story. I have two characters. Ethan and Micah. It's fun.

Today was not good. First period, in band, the stupid sophomore who took my chair in the second row wouldn't move, so I had to sit with the pathetic thirds. Then at the end of class Jamie tells me that there's a rumor going around that Jonathan and I are (as he put it when he told Jamie and his mom last night) "getting jiggy with it." Which is utter crap, of course, but I feel bad because it's my fault that it got started. Never tell moronic football players that you slept with somebody, because they'll naturally take it for sex instead of maybe sleeping on the same couch. I don't care if the school thinks I'm a slut. If they're that stupid.... But Jonathan was upset about it. He's probably pissed at me. I would be. And I don't want him pissed at me.

Though it probably doesn't make much of a difference as he has ignored me since homecoming. How do you take a girl on a date, have a terrific time, and then just forget about it? Gah. I tried to talk to him a while back, on the band bus after the Open, but I was stupid and lost my temper and was really nasty. He was into his "I don't care" attitude. He's still in it, actually. But he said then he wasn't ready for a relationship. Makes no sense. We had one, temporarily, and it was awesome. Not just for me. He was happy too. Really happy. I could tell. I wrote him a letter about a week ago and gave it to Jamie to give to him because I'm too much of a dork to do anything, except yell, face-to-face. Yeah. So I said okay, no romantic relationship, in fact I'm probably in too deep for one at this point, it wouldn't be healthy, but anyway, we can still be friends and hang out and stuff, right? But he never responded to it. Haven't really spoken to him since then. I'm too scared. And he doesn't care, or he thinks he doesn't.

Talked to Robert about all of this last period (free) in the band room. Everything makes more since when you talk to Robert. He said Jonathan doesn't know how to have a relationship and is firmly convinced he doesn't need one. He explained it like this:

A man is on a strict diet. He eats, say, nothing for breakfast or lunch and maybe a salad for dinner. Which is not healthy, but that's the thing he does because he thinks it's good for him. Gives him a sense of control or whatever. So then one day he's walking down the street, and here's a hotdog vendor. The next thing you know, oops, he's eaten one, and damn did that feel good. Only now he feels guilty. To make up for this "lapse," he goes on an even stricter diet and resolves never to so much as look at a hot dog again. Even though it was good for him and he enjoyed it.

Only hotdogs don't have feelings, and I do.

And I almost forget, I have a 66 in English and will be getting a progress report. I'm perfectly capable of doing the work, I just don't. I have a tendancy to let the little things slide, and we haven't had any major tests yet to make up for all my homework zeros. When I turn in my research paper my grade will go way up. But the parents won't see it this way. My parents are English majors. I'm supposed to be an English major. This isn't going to be pretty.