I may have sat through Breakfast at Tiffany's as a kid but I don't remember much about the romantic comedy-- other than my mother telling me how Audrey Hepburn was right up there with the most beautiful and stylish women in the world (e.g. Princess Di, Jackie O, Iman) while I thought to myself that I preferred My Fair Lady because it was funnier to watch Eliza Doolittle go on about "the rain in Spain" with marbles/rocks/whatever stuffed in her mouth than to try to listen as Holly Golightly strummed "Moon River" on her guitar. I had no clue back then about being confused-thwarted-inspired by the pangs of romantic love.
Lucky for me, these days I live with someone who has a knack for recalling details, including certain arbitrary statements that I've made and then (almost) forgotten about. According to my beloved GF, I said I was serious about wanting to learn to play the ukelele. Therefore, I should *not* have been taken by surprise when today after work (after making me don my sleep mask after she caught me peeking) Dee placed a small, guitar-shaped case in my hands. "OK, you can open your eyes and present! Surprise, happy birthday!"
I *have* been wanting to have a hobby I can do on my own with minimal fuss; whereas I tend to view fits of blogging on my laptop as more a form of Art Therapy (versus Entertainment). Anyways, Dee figures if I get tired of practicing at home, my new uke is lightweight enough to be transported to Greenlake or other fresh air spot.
