I’m gonna write about my favorite subject, but I talk about it least. Myself…
I’ve been playing a lot of guitar. It’s not as easy as everyone thinks to learn, I’m practicing for at least an hour a day and I feel like slowly but surely I’m getting better. I destroy picks like my hands have the devils grip. They break in half or split and start to sound funky on the guitar. I’ll look down at my right hand and think, “damn another one?” I’ll have to find someone that knows how to play guitar to make sure I’m doing it right because I don’t think you’re supposed to break this many picks. But if you are supposed to I must be the most amazing guitar learner ever. It doesn’t even matter if I’m playing right or wrong as I’m having fun and I enjoy every moment I’m playing. Constantly trying to better myself at something, just like in my life. I haven’t been this passionate about learning something since I picked up PHP and MYSQL(which I still need to practice more now).
Actually playing is nothing like rockband or guitar hero. Your fingers hurt and they are slow and weak, and every song seems like a mountain of notes you’re desperately trying to climb but can’t remember the correct path. But you strum and strum and strum, hit a wrong note but keep going, learning, memorizing, building finger fortitude. I think one day I want to be “that guy” that just brings his guitar everywhere just to find a beautiful place to play and relax. And I’ll be a rockstar too of course. One thing I couldn’t get enough of when I was in marching band was that the crowd would go crazy for us. Maybe we just had more boisterous parents than everyone else, but it was something else to hear people cheering for you when you were so into something. I loved performing, I knew all eyes were watching but I got into this zone that made me not nervous.
I’m starting a second job on sunday evening. I don’t really want to do it but I don’t have much choice anymore. I’m imagining the endless stupidity of co-workers and bosses that only got where they are because they suck up. I hope its not like that. I’ll go in there and work hard and be so efficient people will wonder why I am working there. As they always do. I was told I was gifted today, I guess they were right. I can pick things up really fast but I need a lot of refinement. It’s like I can make a more straight line than everyone else, once I learn how to draw lines. But I need to figure out a way to show people my talents, so that they will want to pay me be creative in helping them. Get out of this debt slump, unemployment and near minimum wage jobs.
Like a pre-teen gawking at Justin Bieber, I can’t get enough of my car. My proud patience keeps me sitting in her to warm up, and for her turbo to chill down. Pride is a humble way to define my relationship with the Evo. While many cringe at the cold squeal of the racing brakes, to me it’s more like a vacation in Hawaii than the screech of nails on a chalkboard. A perfectly executed heel-toe downshift before the bend of a twisted pass makes me grin wider than the Cheshire Cat. She abducts the road, coercing you to be her accomplice, with indifferent regard toward the conditions. The spool of the turbo, growl of the engine, and an abrupt swoosh as I seemingly fly down the highway are all part of an exciting affair inappropriately approaching an anniversary.
She revels in the attention; a transaction involving the drooling jaw drops of those that couldn’t fathom the pleasure of being in her driver’s seat. I may have a certain disdain towards the punks that incessantly insist on a drag challenge. But I don’t mind being sucked into the bucket seats briefly to bring her to the speed limit. Showing off? Maybe, but I take more compliment in the glances from those that unknowingly know the beast she can be. The little kids that point, the luxury auto drivers that peak, their eyes seem to whisper “that’s a race car.”
I’ve massed a carbon footprint 424 times my own weight, close to 26 metric tonnes (you know what they say about guys with large carbon feet?) You’re probably wondering how I’ve managed to average about 170 miles per day. A trip to buy a mini-scooter in Maine; A boring trip to Buffalo; A week at Disney World; Along with countless aimless trips scavenging for the slopes and curves that we can pillage from the road. I’ll go out at night just to drive, dumping lifes distractions and enjoying the ride. The day dreams of driving dirty on the rally stage seem not so distant as I turn the steering wheel. Driving is it’s own distraction for me, but my time spent wasting isn’t necessarily wasted time. Its one more thing that keeps me content with life and the freedoms we have.
You probably think I try to stick in the gas tank by now but I really just love driving my car. On a lighter note I’ve had about 18 oil changes, and 1 transmission/differential service which I need to get done again soon along with a tuneup. What have I done to it? Just an intake so I can hear the BOV. Got rear-ended once in December, about $8k of damage plus not being able to drive it for a month.
How much do you love to drive your car? Where will I be at the 1 year mark? 2 years? 5, 10 years?!
I get asked where I bought my Domo-kun hats a lot, people love them. I got them from spencers however they are often out! heres my two favorite ones I own.
Harry Reid’s anecdotal story about a man named Jesus in Reno, Nevada who had a baby with a cleft palate is of course sensational. Right out of the left’s playbook. Stir up emotions that favor your position, and end it with a punchline that supports your destruction of liberty, pre-existing conditions. Does this Jesus really exist? Was he really denied coverage for his baby’s “pre-existing condition”? You can’t google Jesus without only getting results about Christ.
Anecdotal evidence To me, Is like spitting in the ocean, and then telling everyone that the ocean is made up of saliva.
Dr Evil on February 25, 2010 at 10:54 AM
Why don’t the Democrats just call this health care bill “The Baby Bill” so that when Republicans don’t vote for it they can exclaim though the halls of congress “Republicans hate babies!”
Wipe that smirk off your face you evil bastard child
