Yeah. I haven't made a journal since July. Mm.
And this one ain't a happy-Raiti journal. Mmmmm.
I'm gonna be ranting and cursing. MMMM.

BECAUSE I LOVE MARCHING BAND. I'M SORRY. I know it's an extracurricular activity, I know I'm a major band geek, I know it's hard work, I know some people would love to quit, I know some people think we're gay or something, I know we act like buffoons at football games, I know some guys are REALLY perverted, I know that making the brass-player motto 'BIG BRASS BALLS' is definately NOT something girls should be shouting.
((Brass Captain: ARE WE GONNA KICK SOME ASS?!
Brass Players: YEAH
Brass Captain: WE GONNA KICK SOME MAJOR ASS?!
Brass Players: YEAHHH
Brass Captain: WHAT DO WE HAVE?!
Brass Players: BIG BRASS BAAALLLLLSSSSSSS
Even girls have to say it. owo;)

I know I shouldn't be making a big deal about the fact that my mom made me quit--I don't want to call it quitting, because I ain't a quitter;she forced me to take an extended hiatus--and I know we should be worried about other things like the fact my dad passed away two weeks ago from cancer, and we're having major financial troubles.

But I adore the band. I'm never happy when I'm at home on Wednesdays without practice. I get upset when the Band doesn't travel to some of the away games. And now that all this that I've been promised has to be rudely taken away from me by that fucking bitch of a mother I have, I don't know WHAT to do. I've only gone to two football games with the band. Two, thassit. An away and a home. And I enjoyed both of them with all of my heart.

And when my mom, last Tuesday I think, told me, "I'm sorry Sarar, and I'm sorry to [my band director], but you have to quit." with absolutely NO sympathy, understanding, or at least worry of breaking my heart in her voice, I just stared at her like she's telling me that I have to be turned into a white male tomorrow morning. Because she DID break my heart. I cried and begged her to change her mind, and have been crying and begging ever since then. But it's a no. I should be at practice now. I SHOULD BE AT PRACTICE, RIGHT THIS DAMN SECOND. I should be out there in the dark on the practice field, running around like crazy trying to get to the last set in time and not stick out.

I swear. The marching show is beautiful. It's called 'A Time and Place for Everything'. The theme-tune-thing of it is so original and beautiful...
And out last set is just like the first movements we make, simulating clocks in a huge circle around the field....It's so....beautiful...and I should be out there....not here at home on the damn computer, typing out rants and crying and hating my mom and wishing I were there.

I mean, damn it, the band's gonna go to our first competition next Saturday! In VIRGINIA! Outside of this state!
What will I be doing next Saturday?
Sitting at home.
On the computer.
Wondering, what I'm gonna do with my extended family all having a great time without me?

Yeah, I just called them my extended family. I feel more comfortable with them than anyone else. I'd rather be there than home. I'd rather be there than at school. I'd rather be there than even my concert band room. My middle school band director told me that I still have concert band.

....So? So? What's his point? How in the world is concert band the same as marching band? I have to sit in a chair with my music in front of me, crouched down so my trombone doesn't hit the stand, and be expected to enjoy it? That was last year. Marching Band is NOTHING like concert band. I'd leave concert band for marching band. I'd leave a lot of things for marching band. I'd rather live on the streets than leave marching band. I know I'm overreacting and going radical here. But that's just how I feel. Marching band is that one passion I've been waiting for and it's hard enough losing the parent that supported me and being landed with the parent that is a selfish asshole.

And here's what I don't want to hear. Sorry, my journal, my rules.

1. Talk with a Guidance Counselor
2. Rebel and go anyways
3. Deal with it
4. Keep bothering her

Why?

1. I AM talking with a guidance counselor. She can't do anything about the marching band thing, but she can do something about helping us with finances.

2. I considered this. But a smart friend said it is the worst possible thing I can do. And I thought about it, and she's right. It won't get me anywhere. People will be shocked. I will be in trouble.

3. Um. I can't. Sorry.

4. I'm already working on it.

Sorry for mega-selfish rant. But this means a lot to me. Maybe I'll delete this later.