blame me for the rocks and baby bones. (warwolves) wrote,
blame me for the rocks and baby bones.

  • Mood:
Wow, Muse CAN'T GET EBLOODYNOUGH of that E minor chord, there, can they? I'm learning the beginnings of Sunburn and New Born*, since they're really easy, and it's very difficult. You start to get used to B-G-E-B-G-E-G, and then New Born goes NAAAAH TOO GOOD FOR THAT SHIT and is all B-G-E-G-B-G-E-G-B-G-E in your face.

This is all to distract myself from the fact that I would like cake and presents and possibly a jaunty little partyhat, but instead, it seems, am getting pissed-off-mother and annoying-brother and learning-to-play-piano-with-little-or-no-actual-knowledge. Which, I think, is coincidentally my Native American name.

But I shall console myself with the thought of sushi and friends tomorrow— Oh, and that reminds me,

People are wishing me happy birthday! On Facebook! I feel just ... very warm and fuzzy and nice, because, to be honest, I'm so used to people in real life just not giving a damn about me at all that I don't expect any kind of ... going out of their way, I guess. And I know that taking ten seconds to type 'hapy birtdayyy jasmin lol' isn't a lot, but it really just makes me feel nice. It's like ... "Oh. I have friends now." And that's a very nice feeling.

SUSHI AND FRIENDS AND CRAZY HIJINX IN THE PARK TOMORROW. And hopefully Mom will Just Deal with whatever her problem is, because it seems like every birthday and holiday of my childhood was marked by her being pissed off about something, and I'm not letting it bother me toOH HELLO DINNER'S READY bye guys ♥

Tags: piano iz hard, real life
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