maybe i should switch to harmonica

some people are born to play guitar, some--not so much.

see my fingers are small and chubby, i have tiny bones and a little too soft meat on them. so i can't even press down a string before i kill myself. not to mention my lack of long term--or short term--memory. the fish in the ocean remember stuff longer than i do.

so it was a dumb decision from the get go, but still, i had always wanted to play the guitar so i forced my cousin to teach me a few things last night. my index still hurts that soft spot right by the nail, it's all dry and uber sensitive. can't say i embrace a whole lotta talent, i'm no jimmy page, i'll give you that. what i do can say though, is i suck. but it was still so much fun. and i almost kinda sorta got the first part of jingle bells by the end of the night.

then i came home after midnight and put on my the other side of the mirror and watched a few clips--esp the one where Zimmerman can't get the guitar to sound right and Joan just bluntly declares that "maybe it doesn't do anything", to which he replies, casually, "oh wow. maybe it doesn't tell a story."

so maybe my guitar won't tell a story. not in the near future at least. but the moment i get my hands on some cash, i'm getting me one of those devils.

ps: last 60 pages of the idiot. poetry time for a bit after that--then Kerouac in his best.

ps*: tomorrow, we're having a house gathering with the gals. yummster.