Posts Tagged ‘guitar’

Heart Strings

Wednesday, October 8th, 2008

When asked what instruments I can play, I normally reply with “the heart strings of boys.”

My friend just got his heart broken by a bitch. He had known her for ten years. Ten freaking years. And she went and broke his heart. Her name was painted on his guitar; he scratched her silly little name off and asked me to help rename it. And so I did. Zooey. 

And then I got to paint it on the guitar. It came out rad. My first time painting a guitar. 

This post is dedicated to all those friends who help us get through tough relationship woes. Because it sucks; we’ve all been there. We’ve all pressed on. And become stronger people for it. Heart you.

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Boo You!

Tuesday, September 23rd, 2008

I used to go hear my friend Ski play at Open Mic night at Mellow when that place used to be cool. He was good. He’d always, always win. One night, 2 of my girls were sitting at a table with Ski who humored us with stories while we ate dinner. 

About a few months earlier, I had just ended it with Gordon. Everyone knew how much of a jerk he was to me. He also frequented Mellow. Which was fine. I stayed on my side of the place and he stayed on his. 

But for some reason, while he was on his side of the place, he decided to phone me. Probably because I looked cute…and was sitting next to a handsome guitar player/singer. For some ungodly reason, Ski takes my phone out of my purse, looks at the caller i.d. and says, “Gordon! I thought you said you hated Gordon. Why is he calling you?”

Which would have been fine for him to say. Had Gordon’s best friend not walked up at the same time as Ski was saying this.

Ski got the look of death. And then had to still perform his open mic set.

Gordon and his friends boo-ed Ski the whole time. Loudly. Boys can be so cruel. As we were leaving, Gordon whistled at me, so I turned around, looked him dead in the eye, raised my right fist and flipped him off. Dramatically of course. Because you should never expect anything less.

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Work of Art

Tuesday, September 16th, 2008

Back in college, where I was an art student, I was always up at crazy hours of the night, doing crazy art projects. 

One night, probably around 3 in the a.m., I needed to finish some work for a color theory class. Mixing colors, painting, and such. It was fun. Really. For some reason, my very cute guy friend whom I had a slight crush on, was up at this time as well, so I invited him to come over, keep me company, play the guitar a little and maybe…if he wanted…I told him he could paint.

So he comes over, we hang out, he plays guitar, I paint, he starts to paint a bit. It’s time for the sun to come up almost. He’s getting ready to leave. Then says in the cutest way possible, “I thought you said we’d be body painting.” 

What?!? Body paint…like he’d be painting my body? Sadly, no, I didn’t say that!

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