Im at work now (7:30pm) and I need to take a break for a bit. Ill upload this when I get home since I cant connect to SG from here. Im taking a break because I was working on a Gas Chromatograph when I slipped and stuck my fretting hand pinky into a 5700RPM fan and lopped my fucking finger off!
Ok, I exaggerate a bit. But the very end of my pinky was sliced off. I got lucky because it could have been a lot worse and the chopped off part is to the side of my guitar callous so Ill probably be playing again soon. It did bleed some and the fan blades are coated with a crimson gore, but its not too bad. Its just swollen, oozing blood and sore as shit. Anybody wanna kiss my booboo and make it better?
I got my grade for my last college class and I got a B- in linear algebra all by myself. Ooooo, look at my big sexy math brain! Want me to calculate that vector set for you, baby? Anyway, this means that I am now a real physicist and I will have a stamped piece of paper to prove it! I actually finished something that I started for once. Suddenly I feel all grown up. Um, at 33.
Speaking of being mature, I need to stop going out because Im spending all of my trip money that Ive been saving on alcohol, strippers and sushi. What can I say, Ive been depressed lately. Life, heart and money shit. Things could be better. Besides staying home and cooking my own food will keep me out of mischief while saving money.
I came home one night a couple of days ago and my mom had left me a message on my machine saying that my grandma is very close to death. Shes in a coma. Shell sometimes open one eye, look around without recognizing anyone and then slip back in to it. Very soon Ill be down to my last two grandmas. Its too bad that shes going so slow, it was very sad when I visited.
Ive been shirking work lately. Ive just been very crazy and depressed. I keep having moments where I stop what Im doing and realize that Im completely fucking cracked. Ive been throwing myself at my guitar, because that seems to be the only thing that
helps. That and singing. I try to muster up all the passion I can and just let the music bounce out of me and I feel a lot better by the time my hands are too sore to keep playing. Weed has only been helping my sense of rhythm, but doesnt do much for being a nut. I think things that I really like about the guitar is when I get that feeling of hairs on end or the uncontrollable urge to sway and tap to the music. Oh, and when I harmonize in key and I can feel the
resonance in my lungs. I love that too. I especially love when I cant play a song and then it suddenly gels for me and I can play it like a motherfucker. I can now play the shit out of what goes on, one, laid and stuck in the middle with you; but I cant sing them well yet. Im this -] [- close to finally having a breakthrough on a bunch of songs like here comes your man, me & julio, if she wants me, shes losing it, vicious, instant karma, what I like about you, you really got me, jane says, locomotive breath and brown-eyed girl. Im sure nobody cares though.
Yesterday I brought my guitar with me to work but I couldnt bring myself to go inside. So I sat down outside my lab and played for two hours. Now heres a tip for others if you should ever see a dorky looking guy practicing his guitar. TALK TO HIM IN BETWEEN SONGS. I dont mind talking to people, but dont fucking jiggle my elbow while Im in the middle of a tune. Ill hate you for it. Unless youre a sweet little thing wanting to tell me how much you love my music, but that never happens. Anyway, Im practicing and I see the girl at the coffee shop I always go to is closing up. I know her a little bit and that she like music and stuff so I decided to ask her if shed listen to me play and sing. I wasnt hitting on her (honest) but having someone else listening really ratchets up my stage fright and its really great practice for open mics. So I talked to her and tell her that Id like her criticism, especially on my
singing because its so awful. She had a friend hanging around who wanted to listen too and I made them promise to be very harsh and critical but honest. So I played them lou reeds sweet jane and waiting for my man followed by St marleys dewdrops and iggys I wanna be your dog. And they fucking loved it. I couldnt believe it and called bullshit but they swore that they wouldnt hesitate to talk smack about my playing if it was shitty. They didnt seem to mind my off key singing and only said that I need to sing with more confidence. I think that I can do that. When Im at home alone, Ill bellow it out and do a decent job with plenty of room for improvement (I record myself and play it back) so its just a matter of getting over my self-consciousness and tendency to play to fast and jittery when Im nervous. When the end of my finger grows back, Im going to the first available open mic. After I did my little set, they wanted me to play more so I went through every song that I can play halfway decently to see if they could recognize them. They werent able to name everyone, but they did recognize the tunes so I felt happy that the noises in my head are finally starting to come out my hands.
After that I went and got sushi and sake at mios and then went down to union jacks because Voltaire is in town and I always regretted being too poor to go see her when she was dancing in Portland years ago. I showed up too early and just had some drinks and watched some dancers. One of the girls asked if I
wanted a private dance and I said that I was just waiting to see Voltaire at the moment and she said that she would be up in a bit.
I watched some dancers and then got up to get another drink. Voltaire was sitting at the bar looking through CDs and she looks up at me and says, somebody told me that you were waiting for me. So I offered to buy her a drink and we chatted over her CDs. Her turn came up and that girl can really work the pole. Ok, that
sounds dirty but you know what I mean. It was very impressive. She owned the stage, ya know? And her tattoo dances too when she moves. She finished and things were still pretty slow so we chatted some more and one thing led to another which led to a table dance sans table. I mean shes trying to make a living, right? Well, let me tell you this girl
**************
and that's where i my finger stopped bleeding and I finished my sandwich. I'm home now and it's way to late to finish this lame entry. Ever go back and read your old journal entries? Is it me or do they always seem incredibly stupid? Sometimes i'm embarred to have written this shit. Sorry you had to read through so much shit just to get to the good part about chilling with the Queen of the SG's. I flashedback to that dusk till dawn movie wear the big mexican is introducing the queen vampire stripper. Too tired to google it or tell the part about my hot two girl dance with voltaire and a girl that i thought was committed but now i think i'm confused.
Ok, I exaggerate a bit. But the very end of my pinky was sliced off. I got lucky because it could have been a lot worse and the chopped off part is to the side of my guitar callous so Ill probably be playing again soon. It did bleed some and the fan blades are coated with a crimson gore, but its not too bad. Its just swollen, oozing blood and sore as shit. Anybody wanna kiss my booboo and make it better?
I got my grade for my last college class and I got a B- in linear algebra all by myself. Ooooo, look at my big sexy math brain! Want me to calculate that vector set for you, baby? Anyway, this means that I am now a real physicist and I will have a stamped piece of paper to prove it! I actually finished something that I started for once. Suddenly I feel all grown up. Um, at 33.
Speaking of being mature, I need to stop going out because Im spending all of my trip money that Ive been saving on alcohol, strippers and sushi. What can I say, Ive been depressed lately. Life, heart and money shit. Things could be better. Besides staying home and cooking my own food will keep me out of mischief while saving money.
I came home one night a couple of days ago and my mom had left me a message on my machine saying that my grandma is very close to death. Shes in a coma. Shell sometimes open one eye, look around without recognizing anyone and then slip back in to it. Very soon Ill be down to my last two grandmas. Its too bad that shes going so slow, it was very sad when I visited.
Ive been shirking work lately. Ive just been very crazy and depressed. I keep having moments where I stop what Im doing and realize that Im completely fucking cracked. Ive been throwing myself at my guitar, because that seems to be the only thing that
helps. That and singing. I try to muster up all the passion I can and just let the music bounce out of me and I feel a lot better by the time my hands are too sore to keep playing. Weed has only been helping my sense of rhythm, but doesnt do much for being a nut. I think things that I really like about the guitar is when I get that feeling of hairs on end or the uncontrollable urge to sway and tap to the music. Oh, and when I harmonize in key and I can feel the
resonance in my lungs. I love that too. I especially love when I cant play a song and then it suddenly gels for me and I can play it like a motherfucker. I can now play the shit out of what goes on, one, laid and stuck in the middle with you; but I cant sing them well yet. Im this -] [- close to finally having a breakthrough on a bunch of songs like here comes your man, me & julio, if she wants me, shes losing it, vicious, instant karma, what I like about you, you really got me, jane says, locomotive breath and brown-eyed girl. Im sure nobody cares though.
Yesterday I brought my guitar with me to work but I couldnt bring myself to go inside. So I sat down outside my lab and played for two hours. Now heres a tip for others if you should ever see a dorky looking guy practicing his guitar. TALK TO HIM IN BETWEEN SONGS. I dont mind talking to people, but dont fucking jiggle my elbow while Im in the middle of a tune. Ill hate you for it. Unless youre a sweet little thing wanting to tell me how much you love my music, but that never happens. Anyway, Im practicing and I see the girl at the coffee shop I always go to is closing up. I know her a little bit and that she like music and stuff so I decided to ask her if shed listen to me play and sing. I wasnt hitting on her (honest) but having someone else listening really ratchets up my stage fright and its really great practice for open mics. So I talked to her and tell her that Id like her criticism, especially on my
singing because its so awful. She had a friend hanging around who wanted to listen too and I made them promise to be very harsh and critical but honest. So I played them lou reeds sweet jane and waiting for my man followed by St marleys dewdrops and iggys I wanna be your dog. And they fucking loved it. I couldnt believe it and called bullshit but they swore that they wouldnt hesitate to talk smack about my playing if it was shitty. They didnt seem to mind my off key singing and only said that I need to sing with more confidence. I think that I can do that. When Im at home alone, Ill bellow it out and do a decent job with plenty of room for improvement (I record myself and play it back) so its just a matter of getting over my self-consciousness and tendency to play to fast and jittery when Im nervous. When the end of my finger grows back, Im going to the first available open mic. After I did my little set, they wanted me to play more so I went through every song that I can play halfway decently to see if they could recognize them. They werent able to name everyone, but they did recognize the tunes so I felt happy that the noises in my head are finally starting to come out my hands.
After that I went and got sushi and sake at mios and then went down to union jacks because Voltaire is in town and I always regretted being too poor to go see her when she was dancing in Portland years ago. I showed up too early and just had some drinks and watched some dancers. One of the girls asked if I
wanted a private dance and I said that I was just waiting to see Voltaire at the moment and she said that she would be up in a bit.
I watched some dancers and then got up to get another drink. Voltaire was sitting at the bar looking through CDs and she looks up at me and says, somebody told me that you were waiting for me. So I offered to buy her a drink and we chatted over her CDs. Her turn came up and that girl can really work the pole. Ok, that
sounds dirty but you know what I mean. It was very impressive. She owned the stage, ya know? And her tattoo dances too when she moves. She finished and things were still pretty slow so we chatted some more and one thing led to another which led to a table dance sans table. I mean shes trying to make a living, right? Well, let me tell you this girl
**************
and that's where i my finger stopped bleeding and I finished my sandwich. I'm home now and it's way to late to finish this lame entry. Ever go back and read your old journal entries? Is it me or do they always seem incredibly stupid? Sometimes i'm embarred to have written this shit. Sorry you had to read through so much shit just to get to the good part about chilling with the Queen of the SG's. I flashedback to that dusk till dawn movie wear the big mexican is introducing the queen vampire stripper. Too tired to google it or tell the part about my hot two girl dance with voltaire and a girl that i thought was committed but now i think i'm confused.
As for "I keep having moments where I stop what Im doing and realize that Im completely fucking cracked." I go through that moment almost daily, it is quit disturbing.