Language erased my punk rock lyric car-singing capabilities.

Back in Wash and the winter weather is so ishy.

But, good things are going on here. I’m working my mind and keeping up with the times again, stimulating the other side of the brain that doesn’t deal with Mandarin (although I miss it!).

Here’s something funny. The other day I was cruising around in my old beat-up 96 honda civic with a black hood on a candy apple red car (thanks moo), and listening to a constantly skipping CD, Rooney, yah, great band. Well I used to know all of the words, right? But as of three weeks ago, they have fleeted from my mind like the money in my wallet for gasoline. And I assume, that the reason I am humming now is because there is no more capacity for me to store Chinese characters and Spanish Subjunctive conjugations and all the millions of punk song lyrics that used to turn on like a light switch. Semi-Charmed Kind of Life rap during the bridge? Gone. This is what I have must given up in my brain to become multi-lingual. Every now and then a word or chorus peeps out but I’m usually lost by the second word followed by long head bobs, unidentifiable pitch noises, and funky shoulder quirks.

I can’t believe this is what my brain thought was disposable, after all those high school years dedicated to crowd surfing, eyeliner, our all-girl band “Lipstick Lampshades” that lasted for a summer (of which i was the drummer– nothing but high-brow talent, of course), and making Converse Allstars wealthy S.O.B.’s.

Is this what getting old feels like?