Short Pants Romance

The seven and a half hour drive from Lubbock to Tyler was the closest to Hell I've ever been. Torrential downpours and the Mini Cooper do not get along well. A 20 minute panic attack and roughly 100 oz of Diet Coke later, I was okay. But serious, can someone PLEASE remind me to never drive in rain that bad again?

When I'm home from school, I feel like I'm in rehab. I get to run in the park, paint, play music, shop; but all I really want to do is get out. I love doing these things and having a week or so of relaxation, but I'm already bored of it all. Someone please save me before I get in trouble by my own devices. My idle mind may soon become Satan's playground.

FINALLY read the article about the making of Exile on Main Street in the latest Rolling Stone today. I've been anxiously awaiting it to be released since Tuesday. But it was a great article. It made me want to become a rockstar... well, maybe. Mick McSexy Jagger is on the front with his flowing hair and puckered lips. See?

Ah. He is crazy and perfect.

I picked up a bass for the first time today. Not going to lie, I love it. I think I enjoy playing more than guitar (that's not saying much... I stink at guitar). The one we own is an acoustic Jasmine by Takamine. It's beautiful. Maybe I should sell my guitar, an Epiphone Dove, and buy a bass. Hmm. Anyhow, I think I find it easier because there is no strumming, just a simple rhythm. I even figured out Seven Nation Army without tabs, so I felt accomplished.

In nine days, you will be receiving this blog from Montpellier, France. I will be studying abroad there for 5 weeks. The woman I will be living with has a dog and lives within 10 minutes walking distance from the school. It will be perfect! I couldn't be more excited.

But for now, I will be blogging from stinky, old Tyler. Poo.