you are not my typewriter
{Saturday, January 15, 2005 . Janus}


Pep band rules. Pep band freaking rules.

And yet ... I miss the olden days. My freshman year, pretty much the whole marching band would show up for basketball games. We would scream and heckle the opposing team viciously. Once, there was a kid from - I believe it was Plainfield - who had a mullet. So any time he got the ball, we would chant "mullet, mullet" over and over again. He eventually wept. Good times, man. Good times.

But things have changed. Now, there's this whole "Character Counts" thing, and the crowd (band included) have to show "respect" and "not cruelly taunt members of the opposing team." That's bullshit. Plus, less and less people are showing up for games, so our sound is getting pretty thin. We used to have to pack into our little section of the bleachers. Now there is a discomfitting amount of leg room.

I manage to have a good time anyway, though. Alex and I have a fabulous time oggling the attractive basketball players and mocking the cheerleaders. And, of course, we play cool music. That's good, too.

Looking ahead: I'm in for a spanking tommorrow. I just pretty much re-wrote my speech tonight, and I'm not ready to give it tommorrow. It's crazy ass long. Like, a good minute too long. But I can't think of anything to cut. It's really tight. There's just so much INFORMATION I feel is necessary to appreciate the meaning of my speech. If I had my way, I would just make it into a day-long seminar.

Last year, I went to State, which is pretty much the pinnacle of any speech kid's career (aside from winning State, which I did not). I had a really good speech. It was about why gay marriage should be legal. I figured that it would be controversial and that I might not do so well, but quite the opposite. I kicked some ass with that speech. Even people who disagreed with me had to respect my stance. But that's the problem with this year's speech: no one respects my stance. No matter how good I am, the second I start talking about animals as beings worthy of respect, the judges solidify their opinion of me as some dumb teenaged girl who likes puppies. It's impossible for people to take it seriously. I recognized this even before I started; I wanted to do animal rights my freshman year, but I was scared that people would make fun of me. This year, I figured that I was a good enough speaker (with a good enough reputation) to get past that, but apparently not. Apparently, I'm just a misguided little girl who thinks that (oh, how silly) animals can feel pain just as sharply as we can, and we shouldn't inflict it upon them if we don't have to. I thought I was okay with the prospect of not going to State - since I already went once - but now that I think about it, I'm really upset about it. Not just for myself, though. What I'm upset about is that this might be the first time in twenty-odd years that we HAVEN'T sent someone to State, and it will be partially my fault. I was supposed to be the hope. I was supposed to be the golden child. I'm sorry, fellow Oswego Speech Team members. I've let you down.

Well, I'd best get to memorizing my changes. See you at Warren tommorrow. Maim, dismember, destroy.


posted at 1:15 AM by Alison

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