Damn.
I think the display on Matrix is about to die.....(it's an old laptop. I'm not suprised. Doubtful
mdlbear will let me play with his new toy, which he said would be the ressurection of Argo).
The following text has been cut for vulgarity and lots of excessive uber pissed-off-ness. Parents are evil. I'm not saying that I don't love my parents. That's not true. I love them both dearly. My problem is that they won't listen to me whenever I feel that something is beyond my comprehension. They tell me to work on it and to get help, but I am an extremely quiet person who hates asking for help. It's something that I don't ask for much because I know asking for it is not going to change who I am. On the other paw, as if asking for anything will change the way I think. I lack competence in my ability to work on something that I haven't even seen since the end of Spring '05 and have an entire year to make up before that incomplete turns into an F. I don't give a vrelt's behind if
mdlbear said it took him "years of practice" before he got good at it. I personally am of the belief that people are musically gifted. I also believe that the "musically gifted" part applies to different insturments for different people. My insturment seems to be the dumbek drum, which actually is a hell of a lot easier to play than this damned guitar.
I see the incomplete as my failiure to convey the situation effectively to the proffessor but also his unwillingness to accept the fact that this did happen and that my concentration was shot to shit. I would perhaps feel better if the assignments were capable of being recorded/taken home, but he said he will not let me do this. I have asked a counselor (in an email several moments ago) if I could perhaps get him to talk to this jackass prof & see what he can do to fix the situation. I would rather not deal with this evil blockheaded shit any longer if I don't have to. It's possible the counselor won't be able to do much for me, so I guess that means I should start practicing.
I hate the guitar. I respect people who play it. I just feel that it's not my insturment after all.
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The following text has been cut for vulgarity and lots of excessive uber pissed-off-ness. Parents are evil. I'm not saying that I don't love my parents. That's not true. I love them both dearly. My problem is that they won't listen to me whenever I feel that something is beyond my comprehension. They tell me to work on it and to get help, but I am an extremely quiet person who hates asking for help. It's something that I don't ask for much because I know asking for it is not going to change who I am. On the other paw, as if asking for anything will change the way I think. I lack competence in my ability to work on something that I haven't even seen since the end of Spring '05 and have an entire year to make up before that incomplete turns into an F. I don't give a vrelt's behind if
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
I see the incomplete as my failiure to convey the situation effectively to the proffessor but also his unwillingness to accept the fact that this did happen and that my concentration was shot to shit. I would perhaps feel better if the assignments were capable of being recorded/taken home, but he said he will not let me do this. I have asked a counselor (in an email several moments ago) if I could perhaps get him to talk to this jackass prof & see what he can do to fix the situation. I would rather not deal with this evil blockheaded shit any longer if I don't have to. It's possible the counselor won't be able to do much for me, so I guess that means I should start practicing.
I hate the guitar. I respect people who play it. I just feel that it's not my insturment after all.
If the dumbek is your instrument, play it proudly
Re: If the dumbek is your instrument, play it proudly
Re: If the dumbek is your instrument, play it proudly