![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Damn.
I think the display on Matrix is about to die.....(it's an old laptop. I'm not suprised. Doubtful ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
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 ifmdlbear 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.
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.
Not changing who you are
"Who you are" is changing all the time. You are making your soul, making yourself, all the time. I have seen you change. One of the ways you are changing is that you can, in some cases, ask for help. You asked for my help at Michigan, to talk to that dance teacher for you. It worked that time. It won't always work, but sometimes it does. You are getting better at asking for help than you were before.
You also change by imitating those you love, like we all do. You try new things, and fail, and try again, and quit, and try something else, and succeed. You get interested in something, then you lose interest. We all do these things. It is the process of life.
Reality is harsh - you can't talk your way out of some things. Reasons don't make a difference. There are just some things that you only get to do by doing them badly for a while, at first. I could help at Michigan by talking to that teacher. But if you were learning to ride a bicycle, say, no one talking to anyone could help if you fell off and got bruised - you'd just have to get back on.
But college is not reality; it is a limited subset of reality, a kind of game people agree to play, where people prove they are persistent by finishing things, and prove they are social by getting along with people they don't like, and quite often prove they are good learners by learning something *in spite of* the hurdles that college puts in front of them. You find out what you love that way.
About the incomplete. In my opinion, playing guitar was never meant as something to be graded in school. Music is for life, not for school. Now you are more worried about the incomplete than about the guitar playing. That's a shame! I wonder what you will decide to do. I have confidence that you will work something out.