I’m a closeted Atheist in a Christian family. They all know we don’t go to church, but they don’t know why.
I ran away from home at the age of 17, and have never returned. I heard through the grapevine that my father has died; I don’t care. Miserable piece of shit, that one. Also won’t care when my mother starts pushing up daisies.
On the other hand, I absolutely adore my in-laws. I never knew what family was until I met them. I am the little sister and the daughter that they’ve always wanted. Real love and acceptance is grand, yo.
ummm…may I ask how you loved that cat? 
And now for more cat-name news:
I have solemnly vowed that, if I ever move to California, I will live in Big Sur—
-and name my cat Big Pur.
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…(aw come on, folks—admit it! You smiled before you groaned.)
oh–here’s one:
In high school, I sometimes needed help with my math homework, and the kid in the seat next to me used to help me.
He became an astronaut.
I didn’t.
I haven’t had to discuss anyone on the SDMB with my therapist yet. 
I can empathize as I excel at mediocrity in many arenas. I also have been playing guitar for 30 years and can tell you that I have never had anyone invite me to a jam and then piss on my playing skills. EVER. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by going. You don’t get better at playing badminton by playing people who can’t play better than you and you certainly won’t become a better player unless you stretch your skills to their (your) limits. I’ve even managed to teach people who I felt were waaay better than me a few things. Grab your D’Angelico, and a bottle of absinthe, and go! Tell us how it works out!
+1 on this. Do not fail to go the next time you are invited. As above, regardless of your technical abilities you will most likely learn something to your benefit and with a bit of relaxation will probably acquit yourself better than you imagine. Take advantage of your opportunities - if you don’t, someday you’ll be saying “What the hell was I thinking?”.
On the original topic: I’ve had the pleasure of playing with two members of the famous “Wrecking Crew”. Sure glad I didn’t beg off on that.
In my world, I have lived a pretty simple life. Nothing too exciting. Let me see:
One night in my late teens me and my girlfriend were walking around the neighborhood around 3:00 am after sneaking into the local bars. A couple of young men we knew came up to us, and one kid was a friggin lunatic. He pulled out a gun and I quickly knocked it out of his hand. He was upset, asking why would I do that, he was just going to show me his gun? :smack:
When I was in my early teens, I was in a crazy group shot in People Magazine. A soap opera star came to Boston, and we all went crazy, with me leading the way. We climbed the fire escapes and broke into a room. The security guards threw us down the stairs. It was all quite fun until someone noticed me in the group shot. I was mortified. I was not a screaming teenage girl hung up on a silly actor. But there it was in black and white, me in the goofiest pose in People Magazine (yes the picture was actually black and white). I think I tried to buy up every magazine in the city, it was sooo goofy. I managed to forget about it over time, and then when going through my Mom’s things after she passed away last November, wouldn’t you know - she had kept the picture all these years. 
I once got a perfect score in Wii bowling.
Both of these. The only caffeinated beverage I like is coco-cola.
Is that a chocolate soda?
Yoohoo!
Great, you got the joke!
Every time that I have gotten drunk, I’ve been bucked off of a horse and landed on a cactus.
minor7flat5 - I agree with this. I have a fancy-shmancy jazz guitar that I can barely play. But I love having it, and it has been great for me to noodle on. If I have a chance to play with someone who actually knows jazz, I will jump on it - making it very, very clear that I am utterly clueless, but enthusiastic.
I am good friends with a woman who is an internationally known and highly respected bird trainer. Two of her cockatoos, a Moluccan named Whistles, and a Goffin named Topper, love me more than they love her. Fortunately, she’s very cool about it.
Gilley’s? Or the Nesadel Club? (gotta love Stinkadena!)
Not that there’s anything wrong with that…
Hmmm. Here’s one.
When I was in the 7th grade I had my first major league crush. When I was in the 8th grade, my parents took my brother and I to a dinner theater. “Last Of The Red-Hot Lovers” was playing. ( Bro was… in 10th grade ).
A few rows back sat that girl’s Mom. With a man who was without doubt both A) Not her Dad, and B) her intimate. She never saw me. I never told my parents about it. I was so sickened by the idea that my galpal’s mom was cheating that I blanked out the entire play. It was horrible.
KRC, it’s now just called Blicks.
I recently cried over an Oreo’s commercial.
You aren’t losing your mind. A recent study confirmed that of the nerve connections between the ear and the brain, 70% of the nerves are sending information TO the ear. It becomes more evident after you lose hearing.
I’m certain the program I heard this on was a recent NPR newscast, but I’m having trouble locating the cite.