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:: Sunday, September 28, 2003 ::

Christ...think I could wait a little longer, here?

Yeah, today is Saturday...I haven't blogged for a full week - shows you how busy I've been. Basically assume that I went to school monday and Joey's at night, forensics tuesday and Joey's at night, work wednesday and Joey's at night, school all day thursday and Joey's at night, and then work til 1 on friday, and then driving up in the school van to PA for a Forensics Tournament and back again this afternoon, arriving home only about a half hour ago, and you have my week.

The tournament was a mixed blessing, more good then bad. There's a new girl on the team that tests even the bodhisattva blood in me, and who I would really and truly like to duct-tape and smack around a healthy amount. I don't really want to get into it tonight, being stressed enough that I had a breakdown over a printer jam friday morning and finding myself crying like a little bitch when I, not at all surprisingly, failed to break finals for the...oh, probably the 11th tourney of my life now. Ok, so I'll get into it a *little*...but not too much.

This girl, we'll call her Belle, joins the team on about a week's notice, having never done Forensics in her life. She's a tight-hair, talks-too-fast stylish 'J-Lo' girl...the kind that make me grit my teeth and leave my fingers itching for a heavy lamp base. Her speech sucked so fucking bad there wasn't WORDS for it. I mean, it was horrible. She would have gotten laughed out of the room. So Dan, the coach, essentially ditches us to go to bed and I'm left with two COMPLETE novices that have no idea what they're doing in the morning following. I stay up til 1:00am teaching them the speaker's triangle, the finer points of impromptu, and REWRITING BELLE'S ENTIRE SPEECH. When I say rewrite, I god damn well mean it. Word for word, entirely different topic, all my stuff. Every passing hour Belle shows herself to be more and more the primadonna until I'm literally expecting her at one point to demand manservants. Talk, talk, talk, she never shuts up for more then about three minutes the entire weekend, no lie. In any case, the bitch takes the speech I wrote for her (This is my own god damn fault and I'm well aware) and reads it, pretty much word for word, and fucking breaks finals. How bitterly and suicidally ironic is that? My whole life I strive for something, and some barely-18 upstart I can't stand for more then a few minutes at a time goes on to stardom with my works firmly in her hand. You think she had the decency to be humble? Oh no. This was her win, she did it all by herself, don't you know. Even though the only parts of the speech that were hers were the ones that kept her from getting higher, rather then the 5th she got. And NOW the stupid...ergh...I really want to say the C word but I'm just not that kind of person...thinks she's going to be Vice President of the Forensics Team. Never mind that I'm the senior member and have forgotten more about the art then she'll ever learn. Never mind that she only has ONE TOURNAMENT EVER under her belt. Never mind she won with SOMEONE ELSE'S SPEECH. She's talking and talking and talking about how she's going to work her ass off (in two weeks, mind you) and win at the next tourney and be the best speech person ever and blah blah blah. I can't wait until she gets dumped in the deep end of reality and realizes that I'm not there to replace her inherent stupidity with something coherent, and waste my sleeping time prepping her whiny little ass. She's going to bomb at the next tourney, and maybe then she'll realize she shouldn't have burned the bridge of my guidance.

~Fox
:: Fox 9/28/2003 12:55:00 AM [Say what?] ::
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