I'm gonna be a rock star

Cue: Hyperventilation. Panic. Dizziness. Excitement. Crazy joy.

We just bought this for me:

(Our neighbors are going to hate us. )

So I finally get to fulfill my wildest dream. The first time I sat at a drum kit, and friends taught me an easy beat that could keep time for such songs as "Another One Bites the Dust," I was terrified and exhilarated at the same time. I had never considered learning the drums, because I imagined that everyone wanted to play the drums. Who hasn't daydreamed about that? Well, I guess not everyone does, so perhaps my fantasies of sitting behind the band and kicking out a thumping bass beat for the other musicians was something to consider pursuing.

Tim says I was born a drummer. I think he's full of crap, and is saying that because he thinks I can do anything. But I think, considering how much I want to play, I bet I could become pretty rockin' with some practice.

But I'm terrified, too. We got a pretty incredible deal on the drum set, but they're still very expensive. Probably a foolish purchase for an actor and a social worker. Now I'm under pressure to work really hard at them, in order to justify the price. What if I suck? What if, like most of my musical endeavors, I get really frustrated when I'm not immediately awesome, and want to give up?

But . . . damn. We're going to be a dynamo rhythm section all on our own. We could make any band happy with our bass and drum kit.