Work as compared to a guillotine, drunken spades and fond memories of old school days

Yesterday's work shift was called off due to my knee injury. I wanted at least another day for it to recuperate. I think it's all tits now, so I'll probably go to tonight's shift. Going to work feels like repeatedly setting my head on a chopping block and just waiting to see if the blade comes down each time. I made several calls to other hotels and restaurants looking for work, especially bartending, but pretty much nobody needs anyone. I might have to resort to a la carte service at some fucking chain restaurant... what glee. I left messages with three hotels though, and I'm holding out a glimmer of hope that one of them calls me back with some kind of work... even room service, which I hear is lucrative.

Mandy is still being reclusive, but I live for the chase, so I hit on her during symphony break last night. I think I should admit defeat on this one soon though. Cause I shouldn't kid myself... she's probably not being all that reclusive in general, she's probably just avoiding me. No soup for me.

Last night brought more beer, beginning at Hooters after rehearsal, and thence to TJ's. We (TJ, Brett, John and I) plowed our way through a good part of an 18-pack of Blue and played a couple games of spades. Since I was introduced to bidding, I bet my parents will be all over me to learn bridge if I tell them. And if they badger me into it, I'm dragging somebody else with me. Maybe Piper, since her mom plays too.

I'm IMing Tatiana now, talking about college and all. Something about our chat got me thinking about Cazenovia, and I'm now fondly looking back upon those days. As emotionally wrought as they occasionally were (hey, I was your typical, hormone-charged young man back then!), I can easily say that "those were the days." Some of the best times of my life were spent on that small, four square block campus. I'd never want to go back to those days, but I do regard them as a critical part of my development. At least socially, for it was, almost without exception 2 1/2 years of squandered academic opportunities.

I'm sceduling my audition to Fredonia next Thursday, so it's time to make myself practice alot. I have eight days to get my solos and scales into acceptable form. This will require a minimum of a dedicated hour per day of focused practice. I hope I can make myself do this. The down-side is that I know I'd have to walk in there and really stink to not get it, since Barry probably still wants a bass trombone major. But that's no reason to actually do that, so I'd better go in and play my balls off.

Off to practice with me!