Letters to life...
Dear sun,
Stop being hot during stretch and running and basics block. Please.
Pleadingly,
Ellen O'Connell, FL, USA, Planet Earth
Dear band boosters,
Stop calling my fzcking house and kick that bitchy blonde woman off the council.
Love for all of you except for that blonde,
Me
Dear Tony,
Get your section to play better.
Demanding love,
me
Dear Jacob,
Get your quad partner, Anthony, to stop being such a jackass.
More demanding love,
me
Dear Joe D.,
Play. Better.
Wanting love,
me
Dear Trumpets (Sopranos for all you corps people), especially Robbie and Corey,
PLEASE stop trying to hit triple b-flats and other high notes during lunch. It hurts my ears.
Painful love,
Ellen
Dear Robbie,
Get your section to play better.
Sincerely,
Ellen
Dear Shane,
You rock.
SO much love,
me
Dear Ryan,
I love you, dear. You're awesome and you're like my lil' bro. But please stop whining about playing the bells. Deal, for now, mmmkay?
Warning love,
me
Dear Cameron,
Dude, stop complaining that Amanda 'stole your spot' on the drumline. She didn't- she's just a better drummer than you. And if you don't want to be in pit- stop complaining and just quit. If you keep fucking complaining, Pace is never going to put you on drumline. Comprende?
Irritated,
Me
Dear Tony (again),
All your base are belong to us.
-Ellen O'Connell
Dear Zac,
You're an asshole. Stop bitching at me about running too slow- my knees give out.
No love right now,
Me
Dear Jacqui,
You rock. I love you for teaching us snare.
Lots of <3,
Me
Dear Rachel,
I love your fics! Keep writing. And I -will- keep giving feedback.
Admiration,
me
Dear Mr. B,
You are an awesome band director, but please do not yell at me when something goes wrong with the pit aka front ensemble. It is not my fault. Yes, I am in charge, but I am not responsible for others memorizing their music. And Dr. S is supposed to be our instructor. Not me.
Ticked!,
Me
Dear Mr. Pace,
Stop anticipating my questions.
Slight love,
Ellen
Dear Dr. S,
Teach better. You're not doing very good right now.
No love,
Me
Dear Zac, Amanda, Anthony, and Erin,
I do not laugh like a monkey. That happened once . Please get over it and mature.
Wanting you to grow up,
me
Dear Jordan,
You are awesome. Today, you helped me carry the gong into the band room even though you were already carrying a snare and a stand. You also loaded lots of cases of soda and water and hot dogs and buns into the van. You are such a good kid, pay no attention to asshats like Zac and Anthony.
So much love,
Ellen
Dear corps,
We are going to KICK ARSE!11!1!one!
LOVELOVELOVE<33333,
ELLEN, your pit girl.
Dear Jacob, Mike, and Tony,
Goodnight dildo.
Laughingly,
Ellen
P.S.: Do not play soccer in the chorus room with a basketball any more. You almost broke a window today. I was not involved.
Dear James,
Nectarine.
From,
Ellen
Dear Mike,
Please stop wearing LONG SLEEVED SPANDEX in the hot sun. It freaks me out.
Strange love,
me
Dear Basses,
Stop being asshats and listen when someone tries to give you help.
No love,
Me
Dear viola,
Tune, damn you!
Warning love,
Me
Dear CD Burner,
You rock. Now work.
Frustrated love,
Me
Dear everyone,
I love most of you. If I bitch at you any time in the next few weeks it is because of stress. Please do not take it personally.
Love,
Ellen
Stop being hot during stretch and running and basics block. Please.
Pleadingly,
Ellen O'Connell, FL, USA, Planet Earth
Dear band boosters,
Stop calling my fzcking house and kick that bitchy blonde woman off the council.
Love for all of you except for that blonde,
Me
Dear Tony,
Get your section to play better.
Demanding love,
me
Dear Jacob,
Get your quad partner, Anthony, to stop being such a jackass.
More demanding love,
me
Dear Joe D.,
Play. Better.
Wanting love,
me
Dear Trumpets (Sopranos for all you corps people), especially Robbie and Corey,
PLEASE stop trying to hit triple b-flats and other high notes during lunch. It hurts my ears.
Painful love,
Ellen
Dear Robbie,
Get your section to play better.
Sincerely,
Ellen
Dear Shane,
You rock.
SO much love,
me
Dear Ryan,
I love you, dear. You're awesome and you're like my lil' bro. But please stop whining about playing the bells. Deal, for now, mmmkay?
Warning love,
me
Dear Cameron,
Dude, stop complaining that Amanda 'stole your spot' on the drumline. She didn't- she's just a better drummer than you. And if you don't want to be in pit- stop complaining and just quit. If you keep fucking complaining, Pace is never going to put you on drumline. Comprende?
Irritated,
Me
Dear Tony (again),
All your base are belong to us.
-Ellen O'Connell
Dear Zac,
You're an asshole. Stop bitching at me about running too slow- my knees give out.
No love right now,
Me
Dear Jacqui,
You rock. I love you for teaching us snare.
Lots of <3,
Me
Dear Rachel,
I love your fics! Keep writing. And I -will- keep giving feedback.
Admiration,
me
Dear Mr. B,
You are an awesome band director, but please do not yell at me when something goes wrong with the pit aka front ensemble. It is not my fault. Yes, I am in charge, but I am not responsible for others memorizing their music. And Dr. S is supposed to be our instructor. Not me.
Ticked!,
Me
Dear Mr. Pace,
Stop anticipating my questions.
Slight love,
Ellen
Dear Dr. S,
Teach better. You're not doing very good right now.
No love,
Me
Dear Zac, Amanda, Anthony, and Erin,
I do not laugh like a monkey. That happened once . Please get over it and mature.
Wanting you to grow up,
me
Dear Jordan,
You are awesome. Today, you helped me carry the gong into the band room even though you were already carrying a snare and a stand. You also loaded lots of cases of soda and water and hot dogs and buns into the van. You are such a good kid, pay no attention to asshats like Zac and Anthony.
So much love,
Ellen
Dear corps,
We are going to KICK ARSE!11!1!one!
LOVELOVELOVE<33333,
ELLEN, your pit girl.
Dear Jacob, Mike, and Tony,
Goodnight dildo.
Laughingly,
Ellen
P.S.: Do not play soccer in the chorus room with a basketball any more. You almost broke a window today. I was not involved.
Dear James,
Nectarine.
From,
Ellen
Dear Mike,
Please stop wearing LONG SLEEVED SPANDEX in the hot sun. It freaks me out.
Strange love,
me
Dear Basses,
Stop being asshats and listen when someone tries to give you help.
No love,
Me
Dear viola,
Tune, damn you!
Warning love,
Me
Dear CD Burner,
You rock. Now work.
Frustrated love,
Me
Dear everyone,
I love most of you. If I bitch at you any time in the next few weeks it is because of stress. Please do not take it personally.
Love,
Ellen
