Blazing Guitars

The most recent episode of South Park featured the kids playing Guitar Hero. It was enjoyable. It has me newly rehooked on Kansas – “Carry On My Wayward Son” in a way I haven’t been since the year 2000 (y2k!!!).

And now I’m delving into my audio searching for any song that features blazing, wailing, and otherwise raucous guitars. The new Coheed & Cambria does well and I still looking for a few more tunes to fit in.

Work is going well still. I’m getting a much better grasp of what goes on in the overall organization as opposed to just my business unit. Doesn’t hurt I guess. Things work a lot different here than they would in Nebraska or Colorado, but I like some of the ideas and I’ve got a lot of respect for the people in charge. They’re not just on autopilot doing their thing, they actually care.

I recently came up with my goals for 2008. (Not resolutions, dang it, and speaking of non-resolutions I’m at 312 days.)

Largest goal for 2008: Get married (or meet the woman)!

Nope, I’m not setting my sights high at all, but I’ve decided to be honest with myself. Of all the things in my life I feel would be most worth accomplishing next year, marriage is number one. I’m analytical and calculating and obsessed — and probably hurting my chances by blogging about it! (Great, now I have to make sure she doesn’t read my blog until IT’S TOO LATE!)

Wahaha.

The Dane offered me some good dating advise: lure them with anime. I tried it once, and I can’t forget the horrors I experienced… the show featured a boy who would turn into a squirrel every time he got hugged. Horrible, horrible! Actually, I had fun on that date, but it wasn’t going to work so instead I just made out with her, went home, and broke up with her over the phone the next time I talked to her.

So yeah. No more first/second dates with anime. I’m still recovering from the mental searing.

True story.

5 thoughts on “Blazing Guitars”

  1. Oh you cad.

    Really though, I probably would advise avoiding gimics. They can work, but the risk that you’ll get bit in the Fruits Basket is high enough that I’m not even sure that we can term it “risk.”

    As dumb as it sounds, the whole be yourself thing is pretty much the way to go. Unless you are prepared to remake yourself into a new you*. The problem with being yourself is that if you’re already having trouble connecting with girls, that difficulty is likely to remain an obstacle. Not insurmountable, but an obstacle nonetheless. Still, the problems that come down the pike after luring with a gimic or trying to be a You that you just cannot sustain for the rest of your life is that you either become aggravated by the role you’ve taken (and that aggravation translates to an unhappy life) or the girl becomes aggravated when she discovers that she’s been had and no matter how wonderful you actually are, you aren’t the purchase she made.

    *note: I did it and it worked out pretty well for me, but others might not have the personal liquidity necessary to survive such a lasting alteration of being.

  2. Well, I’ve been trying a new hairstyle and working slightly to improve Ye Olde Wardrobe. I don’t know if that qualifies as a new me.

    I know what you mean though about playing a role. I had a friend in college get burned trying to be Mr. Right for the wrong girl.

    I am trying to be myself. The more confident version of myself. I’m a bad actor and couldn’t pull off a new persona for very long without revealing who I really am.

  3. “personal liquidity”

    That’s awesome. That phrase brought a cascade of amusing/troubling analogies crossed my mind. Thank you for that, The Dane, I salute you.

    Does said phrase have any history of which I should be aware or did you whip that zinger out all on your lonesome?

  4. The Hermit, there is no history associated with that phrase save for any invested in the last coupla days – seeing as how it’s birthday was the 9th.

    The Cad, I probably couldn’t act that long either – which is why I chose my new identity carefully, became entirely subsumed by it, sloughing off the old like a pair of soiled jammies. In that way, the new identity really was my true identity and not an act or a lie. The old me was too passé and so I did away with it. And all it took was a little willpower.

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