Tuesday, December 9, 2008


Fucking whores.

So I usually try to leave people be. Sure, I state my opinion a lot online and shit, but in general, I leave people to their own business as long as they leave me to mine. Well people don't like drummers very much. Especially band kids. Now if you know anything about modern-day band kids, it's no mystery to you that they 8 times out of 7 suck. For years now, they've been telling me to shut up in the band room. All this "Quit drumming. It's loud." Piccolos have the most annoying "pitch" in the fucking world. Do I say anything to them about it? No, I complain to myself. I definitely don't tell them to shut up when they're practicing or (as modern-day band kids rarely do) playing for fun. I wish the same from them. Yes, drums are loud and yes, I'm loud as well. But have some fucking respect for those who actually give a shit about their instrument and in getting better and in music.

So anyway, they've been a little better about it recently. I don't mind a "Try to play quieter," though I'd prefer them realize that I only play the drumset for as long as they warm up before rehearsal is called to order. Well today, I was playing and enjoying myself, as I almost always do when drumming (it's called artistic expression), and the band director comes in saying "This is not a rock concert," and then dubs the drum set "off limits"? Umm...do I not wake my ass up earlier and hassle my aunt to pick me up a few times a week in the morning to drive my ass to school (or staying after school a few hours) for his fucking jazz band ensemble? Am I not still in his band and contributing to making it better by not saying that I want to quit next year and complain about not getting to sit on my ass all day during band? I think I pull my weight and then some. Of all the fucking people. I know how the kids in the band bitch about him playing his trumpet in his office during random times of the year (I'd be willing to play drums in his office if need be), but I stick up for his musicianship. Then he dubs the drumset "off limits." Well how the fuck am I supposed to play in his jazz band ensemble if the drumset is "off limits"? How am I going to find empathy for him playing his instrument because he enjoys it when he's telling me that all it is is a big fucking noise maker? Way to downsize your students' creativity.

I was pissed. I was being a complete bitch about it. I wanted to tell him to find himself a new drummer right there. A simple "play quieter if you can" would have done the trick. But saying something like "the drum set is off limits" in front of the whole band? Way to make me look like an ass by playing music. I'm trying to set your example of broadening your musical abilities past what's written on the music handed out and he tells me that I'm playing as if it was a "rock concert." It wasn't even like the room was empty and it was just me playing drums loudly. It was this: all of the kids were looking over scales and their music and playing parts of it (or parts of I Forget songs, as Belle often does with her free time in band) and I was playing the drum set in the back of the room. Band teachers can be the worst.

Like middle school, I was always bitched at when playing outside of the box in the steel drum ensemble, Teal Steel. Fucking Mr. Kenser always telling me that I overcomplicate things and that I should play what I want when I play with my "rock group." What does he think I Forget is? A jam band? I know what a fucking song is and I know how to drum to one. I'm not making this Teal Steel-182. Maybe I just get sick of the same 3 beats all of the time. But granted, I really did try to do too much sometimes and I've learned since then. But now I'm not doing anything to hurt the sound of ANYONE and I'm told that I'm, essentially, doing it wrong. Eat a horse dick.

On a different note in a different key, I burn my tongue fucking always. Be it soup, pizza, pizza bites, pizza crust, a pizza store, a grill, a grilled cheese sandwich, tater tots, mashed potatoes, potato soup. You fucking name it, I've burned my tongue on it. Pizza was today's curse. Guess what I'm doing tomorrow? Staying after school to play with the jazz band and eat pizza. You'd think I'd learn.

But I'm also going to my best friend (also ex-girlfriend)'s house. She needs another guitar-playing lesson because she's sick of playing The Sweater Song. I'm so proud of her. I've not decided what she needs to learn yet, but I'm thinking about it. I want her to get to being able to play powerchords, basic major chords, minor chords, and 7s. Then she can play most any I Forget song with us. I think it's badass that we've got a 1/1 boy/girl ratio but more than 2 people. That's possibly arguable, though. Some of us are less full boys and less full girls. Belle (my best friend/ex/I Forget saxophone player during and after band) definitely counts for a whole girl. She watches Sex and the City like it's jesus's return being broadcasted live or some shit. She also worries about what she's going to wear to an I Forget show weeks and/or months in advance.

You know what's funny? I was being a bitch because I was pissed about the band director calling me out, so I told Tyler to put a bigger tear in the bottom of the snare than there already was, and he was like "No, I'm not doing that!" and then he like dropped the snare onto the stand and the stand tore a bigger hole in it anyway and now it sounds just as shitty turned on as off. We both thought it was hilarious. He said "If I have another bottom snare head, I'll bring it in," and I said, "If I have one, I won't."


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