In addition to my constant quest to understand and learn to write music, I've taken up the venture of learning Korean. Luckily, unlike my desire to learn Arabic, I have help in the form of tutors. While taking a Teaching English as a second language class, Diana had to tutor non-native speakers. In doing so, she met two great Korean women who will help me. This is getting fun.
물고기 = Fish.
물 = Water
고기 = Meat.
Therefore, fish = Water Meat.
I feel bad that I don't talk to my family more. This fall makes three years that I've lived almost disconnected from my family. i just don't know what I'd say to them.
I've spent the majority of my life trying to learn anything I could about music. When I was five, I was all about my $30 Casio and the Disney Children's Piano song book. At one point I was actually able to play "Never Smile at a Crocodile" mainly through forcing myself to learn it note by note. I am absolutely certain that I was nowhere near on the timing.
After that was the clarinet I chose for my 4th grade band class. The teacher told me that I had lips that were more suited for a brass instrument, but I was dead-set on playing a woodwind. I learned to sight-read. I even had some level of skill in timing. But then I stopped for some reason and my clarinet was returned to the music store.
I begged my mom to find her old electric guitar because I was obsessed with trying to play my best friends. The pickups were dead, and Zach and I were determined to replace them. We took it apart in my sister's old bedroom. Three months later my father threw it out because we'd never gotten any further. I was still determined to find something.
When I was about thirteen or fourteen I was in a car accident that entitled me to $1,200. Immediately, I bought a five-string electric bass guitar against my parents wishes. My dad went out and picked up a $100 bass amp from a pawn shop for me anyway. One of his friends could play the guitar and knew a little about bass. He spent the rest of the time that I was living with my parents begging me to let him teach me the basics. Determined to do it on my own, I rebuked every offer. And never learned thing on my own.
I moved to Florida and have since accumulated a small orchestra of assorted instruments that I still can't play. A cheap guitar on craigslist? Purchased. A full scale blue beginners violin for $50? I'll take that, sir. Incomplete and inexpensive clarinet? The Goodwill deserves the money. $100 drum set? I can learn on it. "For Christmas, I'd like this $80 guitar because what I really need is a humbucker sound." I've bought a USB keyboard so that I could use any DAW software. I have a mixer that I assumed was a controller because even though I can't construct a chord without guidance, the problem was that I couldn't control the sliders in real-time.
I have a number of books about music theory. I've read through the drum rudiments. The chords-you-need-to-know for guitar. I have had a friend of mine give me vocal lessons. I still feel no less able or musically stable.
I love music. It just never seems to get any easier to make it.
I don't know what the purpose of having a journal is when writing down the day-to-day occurrences of one's life feels like high school. There's no minor event worth recording. I guess you either need to be actually doing something worth writing about, or at least believe that you are. I haven't felt the need to write down anything in a long time.
Life is good. We haven't been paying rent, simply because we can get away with it and pocketing, and spending, $250 a extra a month is kind of fun. Christmas passed and my birthday passed, and now there isn't much to really celebrate for a while. Not that I celebrate either of those prior things. Life's just kind of moving along and keeping everything okay. No real problems. A lot of just being happy really.
Well, just like last year I now have two whole weeks off. There's nothing really for me to do so I'm going to spend my time cleaning, I hope. I can't spend any time with Diana because she's at home with her family. The only problem with this very long vacation is that I won't get a check with any money on it for a month. Since it's a two week payment schedule, I'll be gone for two weeks, and then I'll have to work two weeks before I see any money at all. Bills will be hard, but, shrug. I'll get something done. I think. Hopefully. I don't really know. Shrug.
Omg. Craigslist is SO FUN.
"Dear Pita Pit,
I'm writing this in complaint of the service I received at one of your Gainesville locations (University Ave). When I arrived two nights ago with my friends I expected to be greeted with a smile and hello as is usually the case. That, however, did not happen. Instead I was berated by not one, not two, but several employees based upon my personal appearance. Because of the number of patrons -- Pita Pit is always jumping on Friday nights -- and the number of attractive females -- yes, I'm single -- I felt deeply embarrassed and ultimately left without ordering.
One of the employees appeared to be under the influence of alcohol and laughed out loud as soon as he saw me. He exclaimed that I looked like I just came from American Apparel and muttered "nice pants, dork," while others laughed in response -- which I almost couldn't believe at the time because the techno music playing was so loud. Now I do not shop at American Apparel and I do not consider myself a dork. Everyone has insecurities, and I happen to be insecure about my appearance, so I have a hard time defending myself in public when others pick on me, but I do not feel as though I deserved the treatment I received.
This does not please me, but I refuse to patronize Pita Pit -- and will recommend the same to my friends -- until the situation is rectified."
This complaint is about Alex and me. Oh, man. What a winner.