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About two years ago I started a project. This was 2007, Zooey Deschanel was still single and I was as in love with her as I have ever been. One day, my dear friend Mehran said to me "You have to make yourself stand out if you ever want her to notice you, give her someThing special" He said, and with those words I started one of my most elaborate projects to date, the building of a baritone ukulele that I was going to give to miss Zooey.
Why I Ukulele? Well for all of those who don't know much about the greatest love of my life, She plays the Ukulele, she has ever since before she became the biggest queen of indie and folk music, I remember reading it in a magazine article back then

 

 

That was it, if I was able to build a Ukulele from scratch, she would notice me.

Now, I'm gonna take a little break from this rant to say that I do realize what a fucking numbskull I was, stupid boy to even have such fantasies.

But back to the story, I did my good amount of research on string instruments, I found plans, blueprints and building documents from traditional luthiers, I bothered the shit out of the specialists at McCabes with my endless questions and concerns about guitars, they probably have nightmares of me walking through the door with a list of impossible requests.
The project took two years on and off, I had to work and go to school which left the Ukulele abandoned for months without any work.
Then came the end of the last project for school, I had just wrapped up my senior thesis and had an extra couple of weeks to tie any loose ends before graduation, so I devoted myself to finishing the instrument, until one fine day, the fucker was done.

 

 

Maple for the body and neck, ebony and bone for the bridge, rosewood and cherry for the inlay. There you have it ladies and gentlemen, the
product of my ultimate obsession, from the sweat of my forehead and the splinters of my hands, I FINISHED THE FUCKING UKULELE!
and now she is marrying Ben.

I thought about burning the damn thing, not because I felt mad or jealous, but as a symbol to let go of my obsession, maybe breaking and burning this fucker will bring me peace and will liberate me from that spell she's put on me.
But I couldn't, everyone around me fell in love with the instrument, every person who has laid eyes on it understands the fucking border between love and despair that is reflected on the lacquered surface of this thing.

 

 

In the end I took it to get appraised. Several luthiers and guitar connoisseurs and dealers gave it a good look and gave me no price lower than a thousand dollars. A THOUSAND FUCKING DOLLARS for this thing, and all I want is to burn it. But I wont, not yet

I still think she should have it, call me crazy and fucking hopeless but I started it for her and now that is finished, I still think she should have it, but what would she think...What a fucking lunatic this kid is, an obsessed fan worthy of a thriller movie, a stalker at best.
It doesn't matter, I must let go of this thing, I don't even know how to play it...the damn irony

 

 

So anyways, that's the story of the ukulele, now all is left is to find the owner, so if you know her, please let her know I have her ukulele in my closet.

 

DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.