Rants & Co.
Jun. 5th, 2004 10:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xaara*moment of silence to commemorate the life's works of Ronald Reagan, who died today at age 93*
Sports "banquet" tomorrow, which means awards, food, football, and general madness. My friends will be there, which means we can perch on a table and make snarky comments while everyone else runs around in the mud. I can't wait.
Mike and I sweated through orchestra practice today, taking turns on the tympani part for the concerto because it was simply too hot onstage to play the thing through more than once. Maestro raised an eyebrow at us and asked during break why we kept switching, but when I explained to him that we simply couldn't manage to stand for more than a half-hour each, he nodded and disappeared. It must've been at least 100 degrees onstage, and the humidity was terrible. I had one hell of a time trying to keep the tymps in tune.
I came home and complained to Mom about the orchestra, about a stupid project I have to do for school, and about my groupmates for the senior class project, which were chosen by the teacher to work with me because he knows I can whip them into shape. The question he should've asked, though, is "So Carmen, do you want to whip them into shape? Because if not, I can always just give you one or two of the most incredibly annoying and lazy kids in the class instead of the whole lot." Or maybe even just, "Carmen, do you want to be group leader? Because if not, someone else could do it for a change."
But people always assume I'm going to be willing to oversee projects like this one: making a banner to welcome incoming freshmen. And of course I'm willing to do it - it's for the greater good of the school. I'd just like to do it on my own time, with a group of my choosing. I appreciate the teacher's attempt to instill a sense of class unity by dividing up all the usual groups, but what he's succeeded in doing is separating those of us who already don't particularly like each other even further.
And so I told Mom all of this, and she said not to complain unless I had a solution to the problem. I tried to explain to her that there wasn't really a problem, that it was more of me being irritated with the world and bad coffee, but she kept prodding until I got mad at her.
What she doesn't get is that sometimes I just need to vent. I don't care if she's listening or reading the paper or playing tetris or sewing or whatever. She doesn't even have to hear what I'm saying. All she has to do is be there. My brother is good at the being there and not listening gig. I rant at him all the time and he just tunes me out while reading or playing on the computer, which suits both of us fine. He does the same with me.
Sometimes I just need to air my frustrations. They're unimportant, perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, but they're important in the moment, and that's when I have to deal with them.
When it comes down to it, that's what I'm doing here.
Sports "banquet" tomorrow, which means awards, food, football, and general madness. My friends will be there, which means we can perch on a table and make snarky comments while everyone else runs around in the mud. I can't wait.
Mike and I sweated through orchestra practice today, taking turns on the tympani part for the concerto because it was simply too hot onstage to play the thing through more than once. Maestro raised an eyebrow at us and asked during break why we kept switching, but when I explained to him that we simply couldn't manage to stand for more than a half-hour each, he nodded and disappeared. It must've been at least 100 degrees onstage, and the humidity was terrible. I had one hell of a time trying to keep the tymps in tune.
I came home and complained to Mom about the orchestra, about a stupid project I have to do for school, and about my groupmates for the senior class project, which were chosen by the teacher to work with me because he knows I can whip them into shape. The question he should've asked, though, is "So Carmen, do you want to whip them into shape? Because if not, I can always just give you one or two of the most incredibly annoying and lazy kids in the class instead of the whole lot." Or maybe even just, "Carmen, do you want to be group leader? Because if not, someone else could do it for a change."
But people always assume I'm going to be willing to oversee projects like this one: making a banner to welcome incoming freshmen. And of course I'm willing to do it - it's for the greater good of the school. I'd just like to do it on my own time, with a group of my choosing. I appreciate the teacher's attempt to instill a sense of class unity by dividing up all the usual groups, but what he's succeeded in doing is separating those of us who already don't particularly like each other even further.
And so I told Mom all of this, and she said not to complain unless I had a solution to the problem. I tried to explain to her that there wasn't really a problem, that it was more of me being irritated with the world and bad coffee, but she kept prodding until I got mad at her.
What she doesn't get is that sometimes I just need to vent. I don't care if she's listening or reading the paper or playing tetris or sewing or whatever. She doesn't even have to hear what I'm saying. All she has to do is be there. My brother is good at the being there and not listening gig. I rant at him all the time and he just tunes me out while reading or playing on the computer, which suits both of us fine. He does the same with me.
Sometimes I just need to air my frustrations. They're unimportant, perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, but they're important in the moment, and that's when I have to deal with them.
When it comes down to it, that's what I'm doing here.
