The first thing y'all might take notice of is that my icon had changed. My sister made it for me after I told her about my favorite line from
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Ya gotta love British humor.
Life is going well. I finished up my counseling. I was surprised it ended in about two months. I was thinking it would take longer. I also registered for classes next semester. Two are serious lit classes. Here's to it working this time... well, it
will work or I'll be damned.
After asking around, I found some places that might sell a vintage Fender Mustang. My heart's been set on one since I played
Rock Band 2 (one of the guitars you can buy for your avatar is a 1965 Mustang). I colored it to look like the one David Byrne had (dark red with a pearl guard).
This guy at a guitar store near my house told me that Mustangs regained popularity because Kurt Cobain used one. I was somewhat aware that Cobain used one, but not of the popularity thing. Go fig, me still being unaware of trends. Plus, since it's a small guitar, it works out because of my current space issue.
Still reading
La Reine Margot. About three days' worth of reading behind. It's a hard read, but I'm still enjoying it.
I bought
Mirror's Edge recently. So far, it's a pretty good game, but there are timed parts. Dammit. I also canceled my preorder of
Tomb Raider: Underworld due to monetary constraints and the fact that I have
zero interest in it. I downloaded the demo. It sure looks nice and it's nice to see that Lara still controls badly. Ha!
A little-known fact about myself: I grew up on country music. I got into rock on my own (well, sort of). We're talking Garth Brooks, Reba McEntire, Randy Travis and Nanci Griffith. My parents
were into rock: my mom loved Fleetwood Mac and my dad loved Genesis, CCR, the Moody Blues, Phil Collins, Dan Fogelberg, and Fleetwood Mac.
Yet they never bothered to really expose me to all that. Sure, my mom had issues with Madonna (especially during the
Like A Prayer era), but otherwise, there wasn't anything that would warp my little mind. Over the years, I still gravitate to some of the older country (especially Nanci Griffith). Yet, most country music now is just horrible. It's trying
way too hard to be rock.
I got into rock music when I was about eleven. A friend of my mom's gave me an extra copy of Fleetwood Mac's
The Dance. I listened to it while we were staying with her in L.A. Obviously, fond memories were had. Later, I started borrowing my dad's Genesis and Phil Collins CDs. At the same time, my dad went through a Celine Dion phase that lasted until mid-2004
. Obviously, even if we tried, my sister and I couldn't escape repeated plays of
Let's Talk About Love. While all my friends were swooning over Backstreet Boys and Ricky Martin, I was jamming through my pre-teens to CCR's "Bad Moon Rising" and Fleetwood Mac's "Go Your Own Way".
Throughout my teens, I was exposed to Steely Dan, Prince, the Eagles, Tom Petty, et all. By then, I was a fairly hardcore Fleetwood Mac. When I turned 19, I rediscovered Genesis. Hardcore with them until about nine months ago when I sort-of rediscovered Talking Heads. The abridged version is that I bought
Speaking in Tongues at a mall while visiting a friend of my dad's (what's with me discovering potential musical loves while on vacation?) and only got into "Burning Down the House". Fast-track to five years later, I buy some of their songs on iTunes and got hooked, bought their
Best of and... well, the rest is history.
Whoa, time to resurrect the tag "hey a long post", which I wanted to read like this: "Hey! A long post!" but the tag system isn't very kind to punctuation.
Nothing else for now. I leave you, listening to the Nostalgic Critic's review on
Tom & Jerry: The Movie. Hilarious...
Regards,
Lindsey
