Another day.
July 17, 2003, 5:42 p.m.

Mm. Bored. Can't...resist...hurting...myself. Boredom needs to go right now.

The only person online is James, so I don't have that many to keep me company. James isn't doing a good job right now, probably because I'm showering him with online affection.

Miamigurl123: I wub yew.

James: i wub yew to

Miamigurl123: *snuggle*

James: yay!!!!

*shrug*

I've been looking for the manicure kit. Mum's hid it from me so's I can't file my nails down.

"Youe nails are nice long. Why don't you keep them like that. It's nice to have beautiful hands for once."

"Are you saying my hands are ugly?"

"I--"

"Don't talk to me."

Yep.

Camp wasn't that bad. I actually understand what's going on in theory, which is a first. I have a way of getting out of it tomorrow, though: I've decided to join James' little jazz band he's putting together, even after I swore that if they tried to get me to join, I'd kill 'em.

Today we a talent show was held in Gusman Hall. I sat next to James, of course, and used his shoulder as a pillow while watching the show. The show, by the way, sucked. Mostly because many of the kids were younguns and didn't have much experience. There was only two acts I enjoyed-- one of the piano players and a guitar duet. While we put up with the screeches, missed notes, and out-of-tune pitches, James and I even started to hold hands. Honestly, I don't know how it started, and I hope our relationship goes any farther than that. For now, anyway.

For the whole day, since I've been sitting on the bus at 7:50 AM 'til 4:30 PM, Mitchell has been doing nothing but bothering me about a composer that he absolutely loves. It's the dude that wrote "The Bartered Bride" ... who is that? Starts with an S.. *shrugh* Oh well. You'd think I'd remember after hearing it so many damn times...

Whatever. All I know is that I was about ready to punch that boy in the face on the bus. Instead, I got teased by Nyema because she thinks I'm too white.

"Hey, you need to listen to some a' this." She picked up her Nellyville CD. Gimmie your CD player.

At this point I wasn't happy. I'm just chillin', listenin' to some "Egmont" by Beethoven. "C'mon," she continued. "Take out your white shit and put this in." I just rolled my eyes and went back to my music.

And guess who's accompaning us at the concert tomorrow? Ira Sullivan. Most of the non-jazz lovers wouldn't recognize the name, but Ira Sullivan is one of the greatest jazz players that's alive today. He's played with many legends, including Charlie Parker.

James was so happy, because Sullivan is his absolute idol. And because Sullivan thinks James has great potential, which I agree. While he may not be the best soloist at the camp he's has the passion to learn and the tools to learn it.

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