How in hell do you even play the guitar? I have no idea (maybe foreshadowed by the posture of my splayed right hand), but I decided to record a song on one today. The notes are shaky at best, percussion's off time, and the harmonies are unsure. I'm at least hoping that these lay together for an endearing final project, like how when children write songs they never rhyme or carry rhythm (there's not a lot of that in there, either). I never been much of a perfectionist with these sortsa things, anyhow.
(Note: I took it down)
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Great, Great Aunt Sally never married. Aunt Sally never could find a man whom she admired as much as her father. Grand, Grand Nana Mary Shirley went to live with her, for company, and never went back.
Distant Cousin Keri is getting married in September and she had a shower today. It'd been ages and she commented on my height. I last remember her braiding a piece of my hair, putting a little piece of foil and blue and white beads on the end of it
Today, though, everyone just told bad sex jokes and bad marriage jokes. My Great Aunt Ronnie told her to feed him well. My younger sister told her to never shower in the sink (part of the "Recipe for Marriage" game). My mother's always told me to never marry.
We made toilet paper wedding dresses and ogled at lingerie and, well, told more bad sex jokes and funny stories about husbands and how they are all hopeless. There was a pair of boxers with a giant cock printed on the front and a cake dressed up as a bustier.
I think my mother might be right.
Distant Cousin Keri is getting married in September and she had a shower today. It'd been ages and she commented on my height. I last remember her braiding a piece of my hair, putting a little piece of foil and blue and white beads on the end of it
Today, though, everyone just told bad sex jokes and bad marriage jokes. My Great Aunt Ronnie told her to feed him well. My younger sister told her to never shower in the sink (part of the "Recipe for Marriage" game). My mother's always told me to never marry.
We made toilet paper wedding dresses and ogled at lingerie and, well, told more bad sex jokes and funny stories about husbands and how they are all hopeless. There was a pair of boxers with a giant cock printed on the front and a cake dressed up as a bustier.
I think my mother might be right.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
20 bees.
Coming home at 5:30 in the morning sober and exhausted and weeping because somehow birthdays are always disappointing somehow and you found that your mom bought BBQ for your birthday dinner and you hate having BBQ for your birthday dinners because you specifically said you did not want BBQ and all you can think about is that stupid Lesley Gore song and then you wake up in the morning when you're still tired but can't fall asleep again and no one is home.
Hah.
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