Saturday, September 25, 1999

Last Sunday at the WAIH meeting, a girl came up to me and said the following: "Hi, are you Seth Warren?"

"Yes," I replied.

"I'm one of your trainees and I wanted to talk about my schedule..."

"What about it?"

"Well, I'm supposed to come in on Thursdays, but you see, my boyfriend's in a frat, so I'm out partying Wednesday nights. I'm usually too drunk to come in on Thursday mornings. So, I was wondering...could I have a different time?"

I am not impressed. I work my ass off for three hours early every weekday morning in WAIH's air studio. I have a total of nine trainees - some of whom actually show up and want to learn the ins and outs of broadcasting. This girl not only is a truant from her training sessions (two weeks now), but she has the nerve to tell me that she can't show up to her scheduled time because she's a tippler? Of all the motherfucking, lame-ass excuses I have ever had my ears assaulted with in my life, this sure as fuck ranks way up there. I could not care less at this point if she never showed up.

Last Thursday I headlined open mic at Hurley's for the campus coffeehouse. I was thrilled as hell. I've never headlined before, and this was a chance for me to play for one hour, as opposed to my usual fifteen minutes of musical fame.

There is something about sitting on stage, behind a keyboard, singing and playing for thirty people. It's exciting. Two speakers flank you on the left and right, and not only do you hear your songs, you feel them as well. This sound comes from you, but it is from outside of you and coming towards you as well.

I used to be nervous about playing in front of people. I don't seem to have any problem with that anymore. I feel more comfortable playing my songs in front of crowds. Also, I take the attitude that I wrote most of these songs, so if I make a mistake, it's not really a mistake, it's a rewrite; it's my song and I can do anything I want with it.

The number of compliments I got after my performance amazed me. I've never been the recipient of such praise before. The best compliment came from the head of coffeehouse, who told me that I would be headlining again. I guess I really did play well.

Friday found everyone out on a date, except yours truly. While my friends rocketed towards certain debauchery (okay, I'm kidding), I stayed in my dorm room and composed a two-three page email to the girl I lost my viginity to two weeks ago.

I must admit that I miss her. I mean, it is a given that I want to have sex with her again, but I think there's just a little more depth inside what I'm feeling as well. I like her. I like to talk to her. Would I keep sending her email and keep waiting for her to call if I didn't like her?

I'm quite sure that if she were also a S.U.N.Y. Potsdam student, I would be taking her out at least once a week. Perhaps more than that.

I wonder if she feels the same way.