I will be a good guitar player.
Thursday, 02/19/04 - 12:30 pm.

(Given my nature, and putting aside the obvious fact that she doesn't even know I exist, I'd like to wish Yoko Ono a happy -belated- birthday!)

I still feel a little nauseous AND hungry, but I'm much better than yesterday. Now it's my mom who's been knocked out by a headache and flu. In words of Calvin, it's hard to be a mom for a mom.

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When you put on the strap and rip out a few coherent chords out of the guitar, you understand why people who started out as musicians at a young age (well, I'm thinking Aerosmith and Beatles) grow old making music and performing, and never seem to stop.

When I was younger (*cough*not too long ago), I had the craving of feeling pretty. I wanted people to tell me I was pretty (old people who are friends with your parents -who are so old people think are your grandparents- don't count). But now I just want people to tell me I play guitar well. Neither is true, but at least the latter, I can work on it without facing surgery (ok, I'm not THAT bad-looking either, it's just a contrast).

I'll keep practicing. Word has it that it does wonders.

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