(no subject)
So, in less than a week I'll be up for my Instrument instructor checkride, and the job search is on. I'm looking at a place in Chandler right now. I met an alumni of my school who instructed there and she REALLY liked that place.
I went to my school's career center today to get some advice on contacting that company. He told me three things that I knew very well but did not want to hear:
"Ya gotta cut the side burns."
"Ya gotta cut the hair down."
"Ya gotta get a suit."
I love my side burns, I don't think I'll be comforatable without them. I love having long greasy "Boy, you look like you stole Elvis's hair" hair. I guess it will have to be short, greasy "Boy you look like you stole Elvis's hair" hair. And I don't like paying fer fucking suits.
In ohter news, Monday night I had my first practice with my new band. They are all much much older than me, and professional musicians. I've seen a few of them playing around town in other bands and knew how fucking good they are, and the drummer used to drum for Social Distortion. We got together, and before I knew it I had 30 songs to learn on my plate. And I have one month to get them down, because our first show is in mid-December.
But dude, this band fucking RIPS...
They knew how new I was to the upright, but they still wanted to meet with me. After stumbling through about five songs, only completely catching on right at the end, the guitarists says "Well, yeah yer new, but yer already catching on to the songs quicker than most people might, so if you want the spot yer totally in." Haha, success!! Then we went to the bar and got to know each other over drunken conversation.
So, I met this girl a while back, and went out with her a little over a week ago. Date goes real well. Getting ready to go out a second time...and then I find out she has herpes. And probably Chlymidia. And probably Gonorreah. And possibly HPV.
STD's of three -- let it be... I know she's the one with the petri-dish crotch, but I still curse my luck. I swear, my luck in meeting people is ridiculous. The past probably five girls I've met, some from online, some from stumbling upon them in person, have turned out to either be nuts, with (copious amounts) of baggage, or bigger trainwrecks than even I am. I gotta get the fuck out of Prescott.
So, there's a brief update of my adventures. Anyone wanna move to the south valley with me?!
I went to my school's career center today to get some advice on contacting that company. He told me three things that I knew very well but did not want to hear:
"Ya gotta cut the side burns."
"Ya gotta cut the hair down."
"Ya gotta get a suit."
I love my side burns, I don't think I'll be comforatable without them. I love having long greasy "Boy, you look like you stole Elvis's hair" hair. I guess it will have to be short, greasy "Boy you look like you stole Elvis's hair" hair. And I don't like paying fer fucking suits.
In ohter news, Monday night I had my first practice with my new band. They are all much much older than me, and professional musicians. I've seen a few of them playing around town in other bands and knew how fucking good they are, and the drummer used to drum for Social Distortion. We got together, and before I knew it I had 30 songs to learn on my plate. And I have one month to get them down, because our first show is in mid-December.
But dude, this band fucking RIPS...
They knew how new I was to the upright, but they still wanted to meet with me. After stumbling through about five songs, only completely catching on right at the end, the guitarists says "Well, yeah yer new, but yer already catching on to the songs quicker than most people might, so if you want the spot yer totally in." Haha, success!! Then we went to the bar and got to know each other over drunken conversation.
So, I met this girl a while back, and went out with her a little over a week ago. Date goes real well. Getting ready to go out a second time...and then I find out she has herpes. And probably Chlymidia. And probably Gonorreah. And possibly HPV.
STD's of three -- let it be... I know she's the one with the petri-dish crotch, but I still curse my luck. I swear, my luck in meeting people is ridiculous. The past probably five girls I've met, some from online, some from stumbling upon them in person, have turned out to either be nuts, with (copious amounts) of baggage, or bigger trainwrecks than even I am. I gotta get the fuck out of Prescott.
So, there's a brief update of my adventures. Anyone wanna move to the south valley with me?!