In my desperation to find a replacement for a plectrum, I used a dime instead. I dug my hand in my dad's coin collection lying around near his laptop and got this 1970 dime for a prize. Of all the coins I could pick out and it had to be a really small one. Beggars can't be choosy.
It reminded me of some of my relatives goading me to stay with them in San Francisco. My godmother's also there, so are her sons and daughters. My mom said if I had to stay in California, I better be with her. My uber-religious godmother who goes to Church at least 5 times a week. I'm gay (not that my mom knows) but it's San Francisco for fuck's sake... I'll be seeing them this December when I get back home and I'll be once again pounded with talks of moving in with them there. It's been going on for years, I wonder what's keeping me...? Maybe they'll get to convince me to. Allison Street eh?
In less than a couple of months, I'll be 23. I'll probably get a job in Human Resources again. My other friend said she's getting used to being a total bum. Makes 2 of us. But I have this little self-employment thing going on... which will end the day I fly home.
Been playing Coldplay's See You Soon during the past hour. The dime's causing a weird effect as it hits the coils of the lower strings.
I'm much too lazy to tune my guitar back to standard. It's a royal pain in the ass to, despite having a built-in tuner. I'm itching to play Drive by Incubus... Now where's that amp when I need it?
jmccoy
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