Maybe everything is alright. Maybe what I percieve other people to percieve me as is irrelevant. I was considering what I would write in a letter to be opened after my death. That sounds morbid, and somewhat emo, but nonetheless I was thinking about what I’d write. One of those things you think about but you don’t talk about over lunch. My final decision is not to have a letter. Does that make sense? I’m never hesitant to publish some thoughts to a website during my lifetime, but I think when I die, if it’s mysterious, then I want to maintain some of that mystery forever.
I’ve decided that this summer I want to build a robot. I want to save up, buy the parts, assemble the robot, and then write scripts to make the robot do things. In 8th grade, Sam and I wrote a program that made a robotic arm move blocks from one side of the desk to the other. Then, Whitney built a laser and no one cared about our robot anymore.
Mike arranged Out of the Woods for OASN to perform, and I swear that was probably the best moment of my week. I had forgotten how good that song is. Amazing how young that group is, or was when they recorded their debut. It brought me back to the summer when a few friends and I went to see Nickel Creek perform at the Kennedy Center on a long and winding adventure.
I had stopped watching the progress of my hand and fingers and all of a sudden I realized that they’re almost back to full strength. The thumb and pointer are still a little droopy, but I can finger pick again.
I have to finish watching the Godfather tonight. It’s one of those movies that every guy I know has memorized, and I figured it’s about time I grow up. The first step, learning to enjoy football, was easy. I’m pretty fluent now, and my reason for wanting the Steelers to win the superbowl is not because they’re good (that’s never a reason to like a team), but it’s because the Seahawks beat the Redskins. So they should lose the superbowl. Does that make sense?