Trying - Part IV

We finished recording and destroying all the nerves in my arms in hands at about 11 PM on Sunday. After that Gordo and I hit the road.

We got home at about 3 and I hit the sack. I got up at 7 with Ladybetrothed Sarah to spend a few quality minutes with her and to congratulate her on her acceptance to medical school. That's right, folks, my lovely lady has decided to buck the trend I've established in our relationship and is set to go out and make something of herself. She rules.

Anyway, after she left the house I went into full blown busybody/panic mode. I packed a bag, practiced guitar, got a haircut, nervously went to the bathroom 749 times and ate three powerbars.

Finally, I got it together and went to the airport to get my flight to L.A. the flight was uneventful, except that I ended up breaking my diet by accepting the flight-attendant proffered white oreos. Have you had these things? They are Deee-licious. Life is really too short not to eat trans-fat.

Anywho, I got to L.A. without incident and met up with Bad Ass Bill Watterson. We got some hookers and blow and headed back to his place. Ok, actually, we just headed back to his place, where I was confronted with four cats in about a 150 square foot apartment. This would be fine if I weren't deathly allergic to cats, especially cats in an apartment where two not so cleanly dudes live. Oh well, I popped a couple benadryl and retired into a drug induced coma.

The next day was audition day. I got up early, drank about 94 liters of Diet Coke, took a nervous poop and went to Guitar Center to practice keyboards. I'm. Not. Kidding.

Following the practice session, Bill and I rode around LA and marveled at all the desperate people until we realized we were in fact the very people we were marveling condescendingly at. I solved this moral quandry by having a diet coke.

Finally, I headed over to the OKGo rock headquarters. Once I got there I really wasn't nervous anymore. They are all really nice, non-intimidating guys, they just happen to have the very success I've been busting my nuts for fifteen years for. Anyway, we hit the practice space and played for a while. I played well, we had fun and that's really all I could have asked for. Ok, well, that's not true, I could have asked for a million dollars and a hand job from a label executive, but that seemed unlikely.

Afterwards, we hung out for a bit and then I left. It was no big deal really. I left the house with the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders. Unfortunately, this relief and happiness morphed into the sense that I had definitely gotten the gig which, as we will see later, was a bad assumption to make.

Tomorrow - Failing Part I