There's a certain minor annoyance brewing in the back of my skull at the moment. Part of me wants to blame HuSI. Everything was fine while I wasn't here. Hang out here for a couple weeks and the whole world goes to hell.

That's the funny. Laugh.

The discussion Mrs. NFB and myself had about the computer situation was probably the best serious conversation we've had in a year and a half or more. We don't do serious very often because, well, we just don't have reason to. We chat constantly, but not about things that are important. We established quite some time ago what's important to each of us and unless something dramatic happens in one of those subjects we don't have a lot of reason to discuss it beyond saying, "my $subject" and the other just knows that's important shit and you don't step on it.

My music has been one of those subjects for years with us.

But see, this is the third time in my life where the recording shit is really starting to take off and right when I get comfortable with where I'm at and what I'm doing the computer I'm using takes a big ol' dump on me. Once with Windows 95 and Cakewalk, I was multi-tracking guitars and MIDI programming drums and getting some good shit taken care of and SQUISH. Lost all my tracks. My own fault for trusting Windows 95 and not making backups. I was but a wee computer lad and didn't know better.

Second time, I knew better, and was making backups of everything. To the point of complete paranoia. Got my software sorted and figured out to the point where it was at least passable. Started recording. Getting some decent sounds down. And then the cat dumped water on the computer I was using. OK, less than happy with that one. Anyway, I took it in to get repaired and the facility lost it. So, I got a new computer out of them, but the previous computer had SHIPPED with the recording software I was using and I didn't have a valid transferable license so I was back to square freakin' one.

So this time, this time around I'm on it. I'm not letting a little computer problem get in the way. My backup routine is stringent. I'm not taking the freebies for granted. I went all out and got good software that could be transfered to the next system if I had the need to. I was careful. Before doing anything to the computer of any importance, a full system backup was made. I lost no data in the death of my Mac Mini, only a piece of hardware that was well past its prime anyway. And I could cover the new piece of hardware, but it stung that I should have to at this point. Again, right on the cusp of having the recording setup I wanted.

So, Mrs. NFB and I, we had a long, meaningful chat about it. The question arose, through conversation, of whether in some way or another I wasn't sabotaging myself in some twisted fear-of-success scenario. Though since I want my success to be no bigger than being able to play my shit on the big stereo when I'm all said and done, I'm not sure why I'd be sabotaging myself. It's not like I'm talking world shattering changes precipitated by all those teenage girls throwing their underwear at me as I walk down the street.

But a strange thing happened in that conversation. Mrs. NFB made me realize that she really does get it. Oh, sure, she doesn't get it on the level that she wants to participate or anything. At least, no more than being able to play guitar well enough to make her brother jealous. But she gets that this is the shit to me. This is the thing I've held as an ideal since I was in my formative years. Since way back when I took up violin and piano in third grade, I've wanted to play in a way that could be preserved. Whether anyone but myself appreciated it never much mattered to me, though I went through the fantasy years in my teens of thinking I'd get recognition on some level beyond, "that dude I talk with says I fucking rock." But hey, I'm no teen anymore, and I've got realistic expectations. I'd imagine one or two of you might say, "that's not bad," and honestly, that'd be thrill enough.

But Mrs. NFB, she gets it. She understands how important this is to me. Though she doesn't understand some of the actions I take in regards to achieving this goal, she understands that I'm not going to give up again. That I'm not letting it sit and I'm not going to go back into that pattern of just gotta wait this one out that I've been stuck in for so long. Nope. This time around I'm in it full on. And she didn't bat an eye when I said I'm buying a new computer because I'm not going to just let this go away. She barely flinched when I said what it cost. She just said, "I understand. This is important. Make it happen."

And while, on some level I'd always known she felt that way, it makes a huge, HUGE difference to hear the words come from her. That she's not going to get pissed off at me for all those nights I've already spent locked in the office fucking around with tone changes and learning the software and figuring out my guitar's electronics and getting, for lack of a better word, intimate with my music again.

Having been in relationships in the past where the guitar was OK so long as it only was there as a way to get her off and needed to be put away the rest of the time? This is a nice change.

So long as I retain the balance and make sure Mrs. NFB knows she has priority, which she always has had, all will remain in this very, very pleasant place between us.

Looking that over I feel it's almost out of place on this site right now. But hey, it's where I'm at, and if I can't share that, I shouldn't be here.

BREAK

So, I got tomorrow off from work too because the accident gives me a few more things I need to take care of. So that's three days off.

My super cool heavy winter leather jacket split the zipper on me this morning. I zipped it up like normal, ran out and got in the car and it went *ZIP* up from the bottom. Damn thing. It's been tugging funny the last few days anyway, and I knew it was only a matter of time. So I got out and stood there trying to sort it out but couldn't get it. And it's a little too tight at the bottom to slide over my arms and my patience was a little thin. Pulling and tugging to get the zipper to go back to it's natural position, I heard the tear. Sure enough, tore out two teeth from the zipper on one side. So, I've had something go bad three days in a row. That's pretty cool.

The insurance company isn't being complete bastards about the accident. The other guy was found at fault and he has the same company as me so they were all up in my face yesterday saying, "take the fucking money and get it fixed NOW!" Which is a pleasant change from the last time I had a vehicle in need of repair when the insurance company sat on it so long I needed to max out all my credit cards paying for rental cars and finally had to go down to their office and rip their faces off with my bare hands to get my money. Well, not quite, but it got really ugly before they'd cough it up.

Got the car lined up for fix-its either tomorrow or Thursday. I'm off both days so don't need it and therefore don't care which day so long as it's done by Monday.

That's pretty much it for today.

Laterz.