Someday I'll be a rock star

So one of my favorite things about my (now spousal) relationship is that both of us brought our own tricks and talents into the match. I know how to cook, T. can juggle, etc. One of my favorite of his talents is that he can play guitar, and really well, too. Being musically inclined, I have tried in the past to learn guitar, mostly because it seemed like it would be easier to write songs on guitar than it was on piano. Also, I don't know about you, but I don't have the upper body strength to carry a piano around and keyboards annoy me.

But with the time that I have on my hands and my love of the country twang, I have enlisted T.'s help in charting a new course of guitar study. And its's awesome! He taught me the three chords that make up Louie, Louie, and any number of other classic rock and roll songs. I've also started practicing and learning on my own a bit, and even though 90% of my strumming sounds like a garbled mess, the 10% that rings true sounds so awesome that I can already picture myself on a stage wearing cowboy boots, crooning into a microphone while a soft spotlight highlights my gleaming hair.

Ahem. I digress.

But here's the problem with learning to play guitar: it effin' HURTS.

Oh sure, I knew that guitar playing in the beginning would be slightly painful, before I developed calluses. In theory. But it is worse in reality, and it hurts to type, to scratch my head with my left hand, even to push my glasses up (and may I say, I never realized I used my left index finger to do that, but boy have I realized it now).

This is all part and parcel of becoming a rock star. I know this. I would just like to skip over the next few weeks, however, and go straight to the part where I find the perfect pair of boots to complement my artfully ripped jeans. Sigh. Keep dreaming, right?