8:30 p.m. - January 10, 2002
banal everyday
Well, at least a reaffirmation that he's alive. Nice to know. (blowsairfrustradedlyoutnoseandrollseyesskyward). Dammit.

I pulled out of the bank parking lot today onto Central Street, right before a red light. I was idling there, on the left side of the lane, when a blue Caddy pulled up behind me and began madly blowing its horn. The car to the right of me wasn't turning right when it should have, so I assumed the anger was directed at it. But when the light changed and I went, the horn-blower was right behind me, honking away. I stopped at Ashland. The blue Caddy pulled up alongside me, driven by a boy not much older than me with dark blond moppy hair. "Bitch..." he shouted out the window, and then ran a red light to get in front of me, blowing his horn the whole time.
Lovely, I thought. I checked my brights, they were off. I made sure no parts were randomly flying out the back. Okay then.

Has anyone else noticed that lately I've been filling this diary with banal stupid everyday life events to try and make up for the fact that nothing's happened?
I have.

Oh, I did play my music for the English class yesterday. I've never seen Ms. Moynahan angrier. "Don't ask me to make special privileges for you," she growled, eyes flashing. "You play it now or I fail you." So.. I played it. I had left the tape with her the first day, and the tape she gave me to play turned out not to be the right one. When I pressed 'play', poetry-readings came out. I spent five minutes searching for my song on this wrong tape while Ms. Moynahan yelled at me for not rewinding it ahead of time. I told her my tape did not have poetry on it. She yelled at me some more. Eventually I took it out and told her my tape was gray, not black, and that she must have given me the wrong tape.
"No, YOU must have TOOK the wrong tape," she fumed, trying to save some pride, but she was wrong, because she had handed it to me out of her desk. In a decidedly less mature moment of mine, I stuck my tongue out at her, put the right tape in, and pressed play. There was my music... pre-rewound. So There.
The class liked it. There was a bunch of 'you composed that??'s going around the room. Ms. M made a little speech about how non-writers were always so damn critical of themselves when there was no need to be because everyone else is tone deaf, and then she told me it was beautiful and gave me an A.

See, I'm doing it again.

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