Ok, so I have a dumb music technique/theory question.
I’m teaching myself basic blues guitar stuff from this book, and so far it’s going well.
About a month ago I woke up in a most unusual position. (Don’t be nasty, Syd.) My arms were crossed very, very tightly across my chest.
So, back in 1998 when I lived in Atlanta I somehow scrounged enough money to buy a Crafter acoustic electric guitar.
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My mother called at 7am PST today. I knew what she was going to say before I picked up the phone.
“Hi Mom,” I said.
Don’t be nasty. (Syd, I’m looking at you.)
I had a dream last night that Bayou and I were shopping for clothes because we lost weight.
The last few years I’ve had these occasional bouts of “Should I have’s”, mainly with regards to whether I should have gone to college right after high school.
I’ve been reading a fantastically interesting book called “The Code Book: The Science of Secrecy from Ancient Egypt to Quantum Cryptography” by Simon Singh.
My sleep patterns were good and steady, until this past March when Dad died.
I sleep, but I don’t feel rested.
…because I made my first pot roast of the season last night.
If you’d like to recreate this yummy-ness, here’s the recipe:
Ingredients
1 eye of round roast
1 bag of white or red new potatoes
1 bag of baby carrots
2 beef bullion cubes
1/2 to 1 white or yellow onion
Kitchen Bouquet
Montreal Steak Seasoning
2 Bay leaves
I do this in the [.
Dear unknown Angel,
I can say with 100% certainty that neither I or my Mom expected our Tuesday to begin in such a humbling, gracious way.
Which also have no relevance in your present life, except to remind you of how silly we can be about things.
But damn, when I DO ask and you don’t deliver, I will kick your figurative ass.
Take my mortgage holder, National City.
We’ll take a break from my regularly-scheduled whinging to talk about something that really matters: football.
And I mean warped in the nice way. Only this friend would think to send me something this out-of-left-field.
Wow, I feel like I actually got something done this weekend. That’s kind of amazing.
Cleaned the litter boxes- like, deep cleaning.
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…how do you stop yourself from failing when you know you’re about to? How do you cease self-sabotaging out of sheer, utter misery with a situation?
Because I am that person who sits in your section, at your office, who has that black cloud of angst 24-7.
But it’s all I got for now. I’ll do a list of the haps. Hopefully I can begin rebuilding my blog here a bit in the future.