Another Friday night in Apt. B-18

Another fine day it's been, more or less. I wound up being out all kinds of late last night. Stayed at the bar right up till the end, talking with the guitarist's cousin, who used to run sound for a former local band, eleven foot seven. Now those guys were awsome... definitely had lots of potential to go somewhere, but apparently they parted ways last spring. C'est la vie... as I said, bands come n' go.

I briefly talked with Mikey, mon guitarist yesterday. Apparently his shoulder's sore from god-knows-what and we're going to try and practice monday. He needs a demo CD too, as his weasel-like, fugitive room-mate supposedly knows a contact for a talent-agency. Mikey is a little mixed up and thinks that talent-agencies "invest" in bands they like, when on planet Earth, they actually charge you lots of money to promote you and make professional contacts. Especially if he wants to retain creative control, I'd think he ought to think carefully about this idea. I'd try to point these tid-bits out, but I'm usually ignored anyways, so I think I'll let him find out the hard way from now on. All I know is that when it's time to pony up and dish out bread to some god-damned agency, I'm not giving up one thin dime! He wants to be the rock star, he can start footing the bill. I'm just there to play bass from now on as far as I'm concerned.

I haven't heard from my Long Island woman in like 2 days. She's busy, surely. Then again I put links to this a-here blog on my AIM away message, and perhaps she came & read about me ogling all the little MCC fillies. Or I could be paranoid. But let's lay down the facts for any/every-one here anyways: It's basically all talk. Yeah, they're really hot. Yeah, if I were a lech I'd try to roger them. However, I tend to not be a lech (much to my hormones' dismay). Additionally, I fail to see what in the hell I'd have even remotely in common with an 18 or 19 year-old. Sure, we can have some idle chit-chat around school, but beyond that? Maybe I'm hastily generalizing (a fallacy if ever there was one), but in a practical sense I don't see how I could try to hook up with one of these young college girls. Now there are probably great hordes of men out there who'd like to throttle me sense-less for proposing that I write off nailing hot college chicks. Good thing nobody reads this!

Had me another excellent bass lesson today. My teacher's an Eastman jazz faculty member and I suspect he kind of enjoys teaching guys like me more than the "hot-shots at Eastman," as he occasionally calls them. Sorta. I don't have the experience and ability that the hot-shots do, but I have a fire, a real passion to play bass, and I think Jeff feeds off that and really enjoys it. Not to mention I learn pretty damn quick, which is enjoyed by all. This string bass thing is a blast though, may I tell you. We worked on all kinds of shit today, and I think even went over the scheduled hour. Worked on some technique, and started getting into thumb position... good stuff. Upon parting, Jeff supported my plan to audition this upcoming spring, which is fab. This means that with hard work & continued progress I'll be shipping off to a real four-year, baccalaureate degree-conferring college. Hot damn.

Ok, time to start cleaning up this dump. In the week and a half Kirk's been away I've let it slip into a mild sty-like condition. I guess he's supposed to return sometime tomorrow. I've put off cleaning everything up, so I guess I'll be busier than a cat burying shit tonight & tomorrow.

Cause how else would a guy like me spend his friday night?