Thinking Of You
The title of the song by Katy Perry that I’ve been rigorously working on for to play on the my guitar. (Yes, those blatantly incorrect grammatical errors are intentional.) I’m getting somewhere with it and I am getting so, so much better at barre chords (I am starting to be able to bend my wrist properly while playing them, instead of having it hanging at some weird and somewhat painful angle.)
Point its, PROGRESS, my blog-readers, progress! And I love it.
Now, I’m off to start on the questions from my hometest for the college I’m hoping to go to in the fall. If I don’t get in, I’m going to be terrifically sad and work at a donut shop for the next two to three years. Or who knows, maybe I’ll marry a doctor have a terrific plan for allocating and snowballing our debt and then we can live just below our means and have a kickass retirement fund AND THEN I can go to college again and get this damn degree in illustration - all the while I’ll illustrate and write for myself and have a damn good portfolio in the meantime. A girl can dream, right? An almost 21-year-old girl with a lot of talent, few prospects, and no driver’s licence can dream. This is America! People died so I can dream freely and openly and run after it. (And write about it on the internet, I suppose - here’s lookin’ at you SOPA and ACTA, ya li’l bastards.)
