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Nocturne is a little bit upset today. Well, I guess, I wasn't upset all day, just since eighth hour.

Our music director stopped me in the hall today to lecture at me about my "backtalk" during yesterday's independent choir practice. I don't even remember much of what I said.

I only remember speculating on the reasons our choir got a V (That's the worst you can get at a music contest), and stating that she should have used the word "eager" instead of "anxious", because we had just learned the difference in bus-comm. (Business Communications. Whoo, look at me making up abbreviations like Colonel Flagg from M*A*S*H. What a nincompac.)

But apparently, either I said something else that I don't remember, or this was enough to get me in trouble. She says that someone (My money's on it being that perfect little soprano holier-than-thou director's pet MiKaella...) said "How do you let her get away with this?".

'How do you let her get away with this?!'

This is going to haunt me for the rest of my life! They just talked about me like I'm some sort of... some sort of... I can't come up with an analogy. I don't normally do that, you know. I mean, I sometimes correct grammar, but people usually don't hate me for it.

It's like that M*A*S*H episode, "Fallen Idol", when Hawkeye gets into that argument with Radar, and then the whole camp is mad at Hawkeye, because they don't understand how mad Hawkeye is at himself.

There are no Radars for me to argue with, and everyone is mad at me anyway. There are no Colonel Potters to smooth things out. Just one Hawkeye and an angry unit. Choir. Whatever.

...But the worst part is that I could've just kept my big mouth shut. I'm stupid that way...