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September 17, 2003, 8:22 p.m.

I'm tired and headachey, and I still have 50+ pages to read of Alas, Babylon. But right now, I'm typing up a complaint about Ms. Pond because she wouldn't let me make up my quiz. I would have typed it earlier, but she's been absent as a result of a nasty little bug that all of the teachers are catching.

Tomorrow I'm holding a sectional afterschool. Honestly, I don't want to do it, and according to Alice that it's not my responsibility, but if I don't do it no one else will. God, that was a long run-on sentence. I have a feelin, though, that no one's going to show except for maybe a few flautists.

Lucky me.

Right now James is probably--hopefully-- enjoying himself at a concert. Lucky boy, he gets to do stuff all the time while I'm slaving over textbooks and notebooks and music. Gr.

I had to inflict pain on Drew today. Twas his fault, really. It's not normal that I just dig into someone's skin until blood seeps through, ok? The dumbass pulled another of his dumbass stunts in the locker room (you guys know what I'm talking about), so I scraped the skin off of his arm.

Yeah, I can defend myself. *flexes flimsy muscles*

I miss James, man. Come back to me, dear! *sniffles*

AND HE'S NOT CANADIAN, JIMMIE! "I was oot and aboot in Quebec, eh?" my ass, dammit. Don't make fun of my Jaime.

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