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May 06, 2003, 10:27 p.m.

Wow! Um. Yeah. Right. Uh huh.

Ok, well today was... odd. History was normal, but after that the day went kinda... kablowie. I forgot my folder for history (as usual) and ended up having to copy a bunch of crap from other people. Yeap. That class is swell. -_-

Band was... bad. We spent the day discussing about keeping our instruments in tune when playing a pitch lower than the original. Then Mr. Nicholson lectured the brass players on playing high notes on their instruments. He even tried to get it to relate to the woodwind instruments.

"The problem with middle school/ beginner players is that they tend to pull back their embochure when playing high notes. It's all wrong. What needs to be done is you need to pucker up and put more meat into the mouthpiece. Drew, what does your teacher tell you about your embochure? He's a good teacher."

"Um."

"Has he ever told you anything about how to position your mouth?"

"No, not really."

"Oh, no wonder. You've got perfect embochure." He then faced the class again. "Maybe some of the brass players need a lesson in puckering."

The class laughed.

After about an hour of playing and crap, we finally took out some actual music ("Armed Forces Salute") and played for a while. He then lectured the band (again) because he said we sounded like crap. People haven't been practicing, and it's so obvious.

After band the usual sextet (Drew, me, Harry, Pablo, Tad, Heath) headed out for lunch. I informed the group that I had to leave in 10 minutes to have lunch with the principal.

When the time came the guys refused to let me go.

"You can't leave." Drew grabbed a hold of my wrist.

"I have to go. Let me go."

"Drew, let her go," commanded Harry.

"No." He pulled me closer to him. "You can't leave. You're the one that makes it fun."

Yeah, being picked on is fun. "I'm gonna be late."

"You don't have to leave yet. You have..." he turned my wrist to look at my watch, "two minutes left."

"But I'll be late. Let go."

"Drew, let her go!" Harry ordered again. "I know what will make him let go." He began to massage Drew's temples. A while back, he discovered that Drew practically passes out when he does that.

Drew melted, but still kept a firm grip. It wasn't until I complained that I was late that he let me go.

He sends so many mixed messages all the time. I hate it. It's expected for a girl to play hard to get, but when a guy does it it's just... argh. It's days like these that make me believe that he does, in fact, have feelings for me, but other days he'll completely ignore me until I say something.

Lunch is pretty boring without the guys. Although I had free food (pizza, garlic bread, and ice cream), the people in there were rather boring, except for the dancer chick who said a poem at the Lightning Challenge. But yeah. It was pretty gay.

I gotta go. My dad's being pretty assy again. 'Night.

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