I bought this Ibanez black beauty from the pawn shop under my apartment, seventeen years ago. For the last few years, she’d been at my brother’s house. He’d needed an acoustic and I wasn’t playing much anymore, so I let him take her. My brother recently got a brand new acoustic, so he gave mine back to me. I decided not to keep her in the attic. She gets her own place in the living room.
I think the hardest thing about this mound is it was covered with layers of little white rocks and an ancient tarp. I also pulled out a hard rubber half ring. I moved out all the big rocks, but I’m still finding small rocks.
My brother and I got the trees dug up. I got home a few hours ago and resumed flattening the mound around the well. Still not done, but it’s looking better.
I think this is my fifth beer.
I fixed the lawnmower. It wouldn’t start, but it’s running great now I texted my dad pictures of the motor as I took it apart and he told me what I needed to do. If I’d had a system like this when I was growing up, I might’ve learned to fix a lot of stuff.
I just finished mowing the front yard.
I don’t know when exactly the fascination started, but I remember having an interest in tattoos when I was a kid. I don’t think I understood what they actually were, but they were pretty neat to behold.
Later, when I understood what a tattoo was, I’d express interest in getting one. This was usually met with criticism and warnings. “If you get a tattoo, you’ll regret it.” “Everyone I know who has a tattoo wishes they’d never gotten it.” “It’ll fade over the years and look bad when you’re older.” And all that bullshit
I was so gullible that I believed it all. I even asked people who had tattoos if they regretted them, thinking they probably did. No one said they regretted their tattoos and they all seemed quite proud of them.
When I got my first tattoo, at first I was unsure about it. All the things I’d been told were on my mind and I wondered if I’d made a mistake. But eventually those feelings subsided. The tattoo was important to me, I wanted it and I needed it. Also, by getting that first tattoo, I’d broken one of the chains that was always holding me back.
I did what I wanted to do. I didn’t need anyone’s permission and I didn’t let anyone talk me out of it. I don’t even care what my tattoos will look like when I’m older.
