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Saturday, October 09, 2004

I finally got my bike repaired. I know I have been biking around a lot lately, but for the past two and a half summers it has not been on my own bike. Mine is actually more my size and it is a beast. If Ian thought I was a "speed demon" on that other beat up rusty near death trap, I doubt he would be able to follow the trail of burning rubber that I leave behind me as I fly from place A to place B, unless of course I let him keep up, which I would because it isn't very nice to go biking with someone and then go too fast that he wouldn't be able to keep up, and I have been generally regarded as a nice person (at least to my knowledge) by most people, so I wouldn't do that, and in fact I did let him keep up the last time, but he only told me later that he had to go as fast as he could to keep up with my reduced speed as the sweat poured off his face unbeknownst to me as I was in front (I have since taken to letting other people lead the way so that they can set the pace). I'm not at all sorry for that last sentence even though it committed multiple grammatical you-must-never-ever-do-this-or-the-gramatical-big-brother-who-hears-and-reads-
all-will-smite-you-for-butchering-the-language-with-no-discernible-or-at-least-no-
acceptable-reason-whatsoever. So, I will accept the risks and leave it there. If anyone feels like objecting, I will leave a similarly structured message in either your comments or your inbox. Mwhahahahahahaha!

...

Anyways, I was invited to join a classical guitar ensemble by the best guitarist I have heard with my own ears (Ilana, I have not heard your dad play, so he was not included, though I can safely assume he is better since he is this guy's teacher) by the name of Miguel. He said there were seven guitars so far and that I should come by and make it eight. Of course, first he asked me if I had a classical guitar. Rather odd proposition, especially since the only time he has ever heard me play was last January when I plucked out Greensleeves with 2 fingers. I did mention that I really am not great, or even remotely good at classical style, and that I only got this classical lent to me several days ago, but he didn't seem to care. I guess I will find out what will happen tomorrow when they meet. If nothing else, it will be fun to hear all the guitarists that are undoubtedly much better than I play.

Summary in seven words: The Beast repaired and a guitar ensemble.


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