Blah Blah Blog

I've got so many different blogs going that I confuse myself.

Sometimes I see it as a safety mechanism. I'll never write about everything in a single blog. I have an idea of who reads what. I'll write about everything, but good luck trying to put it all together. No one will get the full story. (Okay, well, maybe ONE person.)

I got my tickets to the S-K farewell show in Portland. I'm flying over with my parents and my little brother. We're going to make a mini-vacation out of it. We booked flights and a hotel last night.

I'm installing laminate flooring on our stairs. I've been working on it for two days and so far I have half of one step covered. It's so ridiculous. Honestly, it's like a very slow and painful torture because the joints have to look perfect or else I'll keep going back to fix it.

I've got to learn how to play the samba with brushes and 16th notes on the bass drum. Harold asked me where I want to go with my drumming. I gave him a very vague answer. He told me to practice my latin beats because it will make me very valuable as a pro drummer. I played my samba for him and it sucked badly.

My mom asked him how I was doing and somehow we got to the subject of Portland. Harold asked what we were going to Portland for. My mom told him I needed to see a band. He asked what band. I said "Sleater-Kinney." He said, "What?" I said "Sleater-Kinney." I could tell from his face that he still had no idea what the hell I just said.

Harold: "A rock band, huh?"
Me: "Yes."
Harold: "So you want to be a rock drummer?" (Harold is a jazz drummer)
Me: "Yes."
Harold: *laughs*

I still love to play jazz, though.

Why do I want to be a rock drummer?

What a stupid question.