She sells sea shells

Does anyone else have hobbies that never progress?

Every few months I pick up my guitar and try to teach myself the chords to Radiohead's 'High and Dry.'

Mostly because I want to play it at cool house parties at 3am, having nonchalantly picked up the hosts guitar in front of a crowd of eager, wet eyed spectators.

And in the morning people will be like, 'Do you remember that girl who played us amazing music?'

And I will shrug and be like, 'Yeah, that was me, no big deal.'

And my whole life will be altered from that point.

There are however instances, where revealing something about yourself at a house party at 3am, is not the best decision.

Like when a guy sat down next to me on the sofa once and said, 'I have six toes on one foot.' And everyone got involved, and they had to turn the lights on and stop the music. And the horror basically ruined the party.

I'd like to say it was a safe place for difference, but I think he'd of been better off contacting 'Embarrassing bodies' and not mistaking it for a great relationship icebreaker.

ANYWAY

The point is, I don't think I'll ever be able to play a song on my guitar.

This is why Gingerbeard resents the space it takes up in our tiny bedroom. Sometimes this happens:

Ginger: Can we please sell your guitar?

Me: No we cannot. I'm learning to play it.

Ginger: No you're not. You never play it. In fact, I can hardly make it out for the dust.

Me: *Unzips bag, strums one dust laden string, re zips bag* There, see.

TOLD

Besides which, I think my half finished patchwork cushion, half-finished photo mobile, fifty unread books, and four pairs of unrealistically heeled (and thus unwearable) boots would be lonely without that guitar.

He doesn't really GET me guys. Seven years, and I am still so unknown.

It almost makes me want to listen to that boxset of 'Learn French' CD's that I bought, and like, learn French.

But I don't think I will.

Not just yet.

God, I could deliver one hell of a top notch carboot some day. You lucky buggers.