On Friday morning I went back to the EMP and saw the guitar exhibit, it was fascinating to me. I then carried coffee and pastries back to the apartment through a rainstorm. Friday afternoon we went on the Boeing tour. It was brilliantly organised and very interesting. The message boils down to: "Jetliners are large and complicated, we needed a big factory to make them in." On the frustratingly slow drive home we stopped at a Seattle burger institution called Dick's. It was cheap, quick and very tasty.
On Friday night I went on a date with a yank. It was a date, she did like me, she had been flirting with me in the shop and she thought I was handsome. I've never been on a date that progressed so quickly (through music theory). By the end of the night I was back at her place desperately trying to remember what chord the 7th triad out of the Ionian gives you and what note you have to start at to play the Mixolydian with no sharps or flats.
I'm sad to report that she seems perfect. She's pretty, bright, musical, likes me, and reads a lot (including sci-fi and fantasy). With any luck I'll fuck up our next date and I won't have to decide what to do about her.
Richard "halfway between her house and mine is the southern tip of Greenland" B
Wait--don't fuck it up! Why decide anything, except to have a good time on the next date?
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