Today I bought (read: begged my grandpa to buy me one and promised to pay him back) my very own electric ukulele. Her name is Norah, and she is beautiful.
She's amazing. Even when I screw up on her (that's what she said), she still sounds amazing. She is fantastically beautiful in every single way. I might take her to bed with me. Except probably not.
I still need to buy an amp...but she still sounds great without one. But if I do, I might even *gulp* enter in the talent show. MIGHT.
I've already uploaded some music which you may find here. I'll post a picture tomorrow/some time in the near future.
I'm going to stop typing now and get back to playing my new beauty.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
I Hate Being Touched.
I like to think I'm a pretty normal person. And by pretty normal, I mean yes I am completely crazy but at least I occasionally sleep. But one thing that is apparently even more "not normal" and "crazy" (just to give an example of some words I hear every single day) is that I hate being touched.
The occasional hug is fine, if not too awkward, and high fives are kind of childish but acceptable. But I don't like being poked or patted on the back or hugged awkwardly or anything.
Some people like to make me feel uncomfortable by giving me extra long hugs and some people (*cough my father cough*) still haven't realize that I hate when they give me hugs.
My dad's convinced that I'm only against his hugs and that I must let my boyfriend hug me, right? That would be wrong. I do sometimes hug my boyfriend, but...not often. I've realized that I'm probably hurting his feelings and I should just suck it up, but sometimes I just can't.
Why does society even need hugs? WHAT IS THE POINT OF ALL THIS TOUCHING EACH OTHER?
Why would I even want to be hugged after seeing this?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)