Final results of the experiment:
I more or less starved myself for a solid month and lost about 20 pounds, 15 of which have stayed off to this day, a month later.
Now that things have slowed down from the holidays, I imagine more will drop away, though probably not that much as I don't have much to lose in the first place.
You may have noticed I purged all previous entries. Consider it a much-needed douche! It's that fresh-start, end of the year winter cleaning I needed. Besides, I'm sure your cache of comedy gold is far from empty.
Lately, more and more often I find myself in desperate want of a guitar. It's been two months since I gave my guitar away, four months since I swore off ever playing again, and almost a year since I became completely disgusted with musicians and the music scene in general.
I know why this is happening. Dimebag.
A few years ago, I spent hours and hours each night with a friend agonizing over Dime's licks and solos until we got them down to the best of our ability. Even then, they were a pale facsimile of what Dime himself played. I spent years marvelling at the way he played while he was alive and I've been doing so in excess since he died. I'm sure this interest in guitar will pass, but for now I'm in serious withdrawal.
Ask any heroin addict: cutting out something that underlines the whole reason you get up each morning is tough, but I plan to stick with it and not get sucked back in. But god damn it's going to be tough. I still get melodies in my head that won't go away. I can even visualize exactly how they'd be played. Alcohol helps. Reading helps. Work and school definitely help. All of these things help, but I fear that as soon as a get a few hundred saved up, I'll spend it on another fucking guitar and once again begin wasting away solid days just playing.
I wish I'd never seen a fucking guitar.
Ugh, so damn serious!
The Christmas loot was nothing too special aside from the intentions. Just the indication that we're all still as close-knit as ever since I moved halfway across the continent for school is really all I could ask for. That, and the lovely downtime...***removed so somebody doesn't get their panties in a bunch! Then again, I guess that would make them harder to remove...ha!***
Now that things have slowed down from the holidays, I imagine more will drop away, though probably not that much as I don't have much to lose in the first place.
You may have noticed I purged all previous entries. Consider it a much-needed douche! It's that fresh-start, end of the year winter cleaning I needed. Besides, I'm sure your cache of comedy gold is far from empty.
Lately, more and more often I find myself in desperate want of a guitar. It's been two months since I gave my guitar away, four months since I swore off ever playing again, and almost a year since I became completely disgusted with musicians and the music scene in general.
I know why this is happening. Dimebag.
A few years ago, I spent hours and hours each night with a friend agonizing over Dime's licks and solos until we got them down to the best of our ability. Even then, they were a pale facsimile of what Dime himself played. I spent years marvelling at the way he played while he was alive and I've been doing so in excess since he died. I'm sure this interest in guitar will pass, but for now I'm in serious withdrawal.
Ask any heroin addict: cutting out something that underlines the whole reason you get up each morning is tough, but I plan to stick with it and not get sucked back in. But god damn it's going to be tough. I still get melodies in my head that won't go away. I can even visualize exactly how they'd be played. Alcohol helps. Reading helps. Work and school definitely help. All of these things help, but I fear that as soon as a get a few hundred saved up, I'll spend it on another fucking guitar and once again begin wasting away solid days just playing.
I wish I'd never seen a fucking guitar.
Ugh, so damn serious!
The Christmas loot was nothing too special aside from the intentions. Just the indication that we're all still as close-knit as ever since I moved halfway across the continent for school is really all I could ask for. That, and the lovely downtime...***removed so somebody doesn't get their panties in a bunch! Then again, I guess that would make them harder to remove...ha!***