galaxy42

Endured my first bass lesson Tuesday night. Apparently, my technique isn't as fucked as I thought it might be. Adam (my instructor) was a bit shocked to find that my style had gone from slappy/funky/metal to a more "relaxed" place. I explained that Portland was a very delicate place and that the hipsters might suffer a coronary induced by some snotty distaste for technical ability if I did much more than an Adam Clayton bass line. He understood. Next week, we'll focus on why Tony Levin is God and how I can be a little closer to Godliness.

The screenplay writing class that I signed up for has a minimum class size of 3 people. Apparently, I'm the only one who has signed up for it so far. There is still plenty of time for 2 more people to show a fucking interest, but if they don't get a move on, I may not get to cross the writing class off my list just yet. I'm trying to enlist friends, but it doesn't help when most of my friends here are happy to not have any creativity at all. Goddamnit.

I haven't really talked to The Girl much. The last time that I had any contact with her at all, it was really very lukewarm at best. I really just want to be blunt and ask her what the fuck my last two weeks in Portland was all about, just for my own clarification. It really felt like something real... perhaps it was just something "safe". Who the fuck knows. This is one of my biggest problems in life. I need to know why... why do people do the things they do and say the things they say? My pursuit of an answer for the "why" usually annoys the living shit out of the people who have the answers that I seek. Character flaw... faux pas... my bad... I'm only human.