Raised up by MCC, smacked down by Brockport

Friday brought more good fortune for me. I decided to stroll into the jazz professor's office and ask him if he could get the school to buy a bass trombone. He then decided to start emailing around to his superiors asking for mid-year funding to do just that! He says he's a favorite within the VAPA (Visual And Performing Arts) Dept. there and that his bosses really dig jazz band, so he might be able to score some bucks for a new horn. He asked for my input and I recommended an industry standard, the Bach 50, with independent rotors. We then got to talking and discovered that piano minor is the only class likely to thwart my attempt to get my music associates. He added to the already good deal of a possible bass bone by offering to tutor me once a week on piano so I can pass... and graduate. Man, whether I stay here or go to Fredonia I can't lose.

On the unfortunate side, however, my Fredonia plans for January may have been torpedoed. Thursday, while gathering addresses to send transcript requests to, I remembered I owe Brockport some cash for a parking ticket, so I gave them a call. At this point I was informed that I owe a collections agency of theirs back tuition. So I had to call this agency, and they gave me the shit-burger that I owe $608 in tuition and interest. This promptly let the wind out of my sails, and I forlornly put half of it, $304 on my credit card, and headed over to TJ's to punish my indolence and lack of for-sight with beer. I figure it's my liver's fault somehow anyway. And so, if I can pay off Brockport in a timely fashion, then we're back to plan A, Fredonia in the fall. It just leaves me more time to whip my tromboning into shape, to graduate MCC, and more time to fool around with my new red-headed friend.

Last night's work shift was a shit-burger too. There was about a dozen receptions, taking up all of the rooms on our floor.
•Good: they all ended by 8:30.
•Bad: every server but me left.
I stayed over an hour longer, helping to clean up (and getting a $10 tip from some besotted shit-heel while I was packing up a bar... topping off merlot sure is lucrative!). The room for break-fast was supposed to be set, for 90 people, and I saw no reason why I ought to be the one to stick around & do it by myself, so I leveled with my boss. I asked, "how many people who left tonight have to be here to serve in the morning?"
"Most of 'em," Joe said.
"Well then if they couldn't be bothered to stay and set the room tonight, I think they deserve the extra work and aggravation of doing it in the morning."
"I agree with you."
And so I left, and I hope those fuckers had a good time scrambling to set a room in time for a 7:30 breakfast!

Yesterday I also invited hot Meghan over to the B-18 love-shack for dinner. She accepted, smiling, but we have yet to determine an evening for this date, as next week is busy. It looks like I might have her over Friday night & then go up to the cabin for the Halloween party Saturday morning. So I could have a Halloween date... maybe I can get her to come dressed as a French maid or something.