Catching Up

As I type this, I'm sitting on my couch. I'm home for the weekend, and I have a beautifully hand-crafted schedule that allows me to miss my Thursday and Friday classes (just this once, though. I won't abuse it). I only had one class today, and I would have left early Friday so I decided to take an extra-long weekend. I've spent most of my day catching up with people so I thought, 'Hey, catch up on your blog.' I sat down a few times earlier this week and tried to write something, but I wasn't feeling it. Luckily I am now.

I woke up Monday morning at 8 after getting roughly five hours of sleep to get in line to get a ticket for John Mayer's clinic at Berklee. I missed English and my Guitar Lab to stand in line for two hours. I made myself go to Ear Training, where I ended up having to sing in class, and I failed miserably. It was alright, though. Keep reading to find out why.

Despite the Red Sox loss on Sunday night, a very good thing came out of it: I met and a befriended season-ticket holder. He didn't want to go Monday night's game, so I bought a couple tickets off him--and boy, am I glad I did. Julia and I (and Katie Lannan) enjoyed a fantastic playoff game. The energy was ridiculous. It was definitely the most important game I've been to, and probably the best. It was a blast. I couldn't have asked for a better Monday night in Boston.

John Mayer was hanging around Berklee the few days (he still is. Actually, he's recording with Berklee students until Friday). Word got out that he was in a class in room A15. So I went down and waited outside the door (it was about 8:15 at night when I got there). There were about a dozen other people there as well. Some people left, some people stayed, some people came. Eventually, Pat Pattison (look him up) came out to us and said, 'Okay, I'll open then door, but you guys can't come in. Okay?' We unanimously agreed. At that point, John was talking about how he approaches the blues (perfect timing for me). Really cool stuff. About ten minutes later, Pat Patisson motioned us to come in. I was luckily one of the first people inside the room and had a really good seat. He talked a bit more about soloing and stuff before deciding to play 'Gravity' and let us sing along with him at the end. I met him afterwards. It was cool. Really nice guy. I told him how much I loved his blues and he thanked me for telling him that. As he was walking out of the building he said, 'I wanna go back to 1997! This was my home!' We let him walk out in peace because he let us come in and sing with him. Fair trade, I would say. I was walking down Boylston street later on and I saw him and said, 'Thanks, John!' and he waved back and said thanks again. Pretty neat, eh?'

I should have skipped my Music Tech. class. Once again, it was a complete waste of time, and I was tired from the game and I knew I would have little to no sleep that night, but I went anyway. After my last class and my tutoring session, I went out to meet some friends and camp out to be in the first or second row at John Mayer's clinic. When I arrived (around 6 PM), they were all packing up their stuff. We weren't allowed to line up until 11 AM Wednesday morning. Well, about ten of us were in line outside the Berklee Performance Center (BPC) at 11 PM. A security guard came up to us and asked, 'Hey, are you guys in line for the clinic?' 'No, we're just chatting.' The security guard said, 'Oh, okay,' and walked off. A few people stayed while the rest of us went to Dunkin Donuts to make it look less obvious. And it worked. We stayed out all night. I met some wicked awesome kids. We bonded over our 24 hour (somewhat useless) camp-out.

(Long story short in regards to it being useless: Turns out (I was in class) that everyone in line got kicked out and security was in front of the BPC until then. Well, my group ended within the first five rows so it was fine. Staying up all night was wicked fun, but sleep might have been better.)

John's clinic was amazing. Go here to read about it. I didn't get to ask him a question, but I did get him to play 'Taking On Water'. I was in the second row, and he said, 'I'm gonna play one more song,' and I shouted, 'Play a new song!' And he did. It was wicked cool. He signed my guitar, too. So now I can say I have a John Mayer signature guitar. Ha.

Unlike my other celebrity encounters, I wasn't starstruck by John Mayer. It wasn't because he's just a regular guy (Bruce Springsteen is more of a regular guy than John Mayer is, and yet I broke down after I met him). I don't know why. He's one of my favorite musicians/people. I was so composed when I met him and I didn't (I almost did) cry when he played at the clinic. He hasn't impacted me as much as my other influences have. You can hear Billy Joel in my lyrics, you can't hear John Mayer in my guitar playing. But that could be because we have a lot of the same influences. So maybe I play a lick that Mayer uses, but really it's a Clapton lick. So to me, it's a Clapton thing.

I left immediately after the clinic. I scurried up to my room, grabbed everything I could think of that I needed (and I forgot several things), and left. My dad picked me up. I slept the whole ride home, really. I went to bed at 10:30 last night. I was in such a deep sleep. Sadly, I had to wake up at 9:15 because I had a haircut. My hair looks good, but I'm still kinda tired.

It was weird to be back at my old high school. I went to visit some teachers. I don't really know how to describe what it felt like. After my visit, I went to the Primary School to go see Nancy, who was there for once. I hadn't seen her in months. The last time I saw her was May. It was so good to see her. We talked for a bit, and I showed her my guitar adorned with John Mayer's signature. She's one of the few people that has never heard me play guitar. And it's kind of funny when you think about it.

Even after stopping in to see Marty at work, I'm not done my rounds. I have to go and see Sensei. I told him I'd say hi when I'm around--even if I don't go to class. Plus, it's almost like seeing Mr. Curit.

I get to see Bob tomorrow. I'm so excited. I can't wait. Tomorrow will be the first time in SIX WEEKS that I get to spend quality time with Bob. I need it. Badly. I'm beaming right now just thinking about seeing him.



Talk about having an awesome week. Let's recap:

Sunday: Red Sox game (loss)
Monday: Red Sox game (ALDS victory)
Tuesday: John Mayer meeting
Wednesday: John Mayer clinic
Thursday: Saw Nancy
Friday: Seeing Bob (and Dale and co. arrives!)
Saturday: My cousin's wedding (which is the reason I'm home)

If you made it this far, hats off to you. I'm done

Do You Ever Wanna Be More?

I'm not going to begin to try and describe how amazing John Mayer was Saturday night because I can't. He was too good for words. It was my third time seeing him, and the first time I didn't cry of excitement when he came on stage (in a Red Sox jersey. Coco Crisp's to be specific). And like usual, he talked to the crowd a lot and one thing that he said really stuck with me:
"I think it's safe to say that everybody in the world is driven by the need to want to be more than they were yesterday..Or more tomorrow than today. I'm obsessed with it."
That's not the whole quote, he continues on about hotel keys and how he needs to keep it in a lead box because he might "really have to poop later." Hilarious, yes. He then went into one of my favorite songs, "Bigger Than My Body."

It's safe to say that John Mayer and I have the same theory. It's not about wanting more, it's about wanting to be more. If you are more, you'll get more, but that's not the reason I want to be more. It's hard to explain where my drive comes from, or what it even is. I've got most of it figured out. I just need some more time to get it all sorted out. I gotta test some waters and see what feels best. I think I know the answer, but I'll keep it to myself and a few close friends for the time being.

Drive is a funny thing. It's funny how much it's changed over time. When was the last time you heard someone want to say, "I want to be a mailman," (And no, Mr. Stebbins doesn't count) or anything like that. You ask a seventeen-year-old what he or she wants and more often than not you'll get, "I don't know," which is fine--you have your whole life to figure it out. It's either "I don't know" or "I want to be famous." Okay, for what? That seventeen-year-old doesn't have an answer. Do you want to be a reporter? An actor? A musician (yes, please)? An athlete? A businessman? Pick something! Fame is not an occupation. Ignore those people that are just famous for being famous (Paris Hilton, and anyone on MTV). They don't count. They don't do anything.

I can't remember who said it but fame is just a good seat in a restaurant. And if you're talented enough and driven enough, you can attain fame. Maybe not right away, but it will come. It will come. Another thing that was lost (the first is a sense of reality I guess you'd say) is patience. Like the lion in front of the New York Public Library. Patience, my friend, is a virtue.

The Variety Hour

I couldn't think of a title for this one because there is so much to cover.

I got contacts. See, I used to wear glasses. I had them for seven years. Then my eye doctor told me that if I didn't want to wear them, I didn't have to. So I didn't. I had braces at the time, and I really didn't want both. So I opted out of glasses.
Then recently I began to notice that my left eye was (and always has been/always will be) significantly weaker than my right eye. So I went to the eye doctor's and got contacts. And they were a lot harder to put in than I thought they would be. I can put them in fine now, but it took three people to put them in the first day. I have incredible blink-reflexes (and just good reflexes in general). When I see something coming at my eyes my immediate reaction is to shut them--like most people. If you've ever tried to put eye-liner on me, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. I have to go back next Thursday to make sure the prescription is right. We've been having problems with that. First it was too weak, and gave me a wicked headache. And it's possible it may be too strong now. We'll see.

Moving on.

I had a skimboarding competition Sunday. I was the only girl, so I automatically won in my division. I got a cool sweatshirt and some stickers. There's another one at the end of the month, and I'm definitely entering it. It'll be at Biddeford Pool, my home field. The one on Sunday was at Old Orchard Beach at high tide, and it was bad. Luckily I was the only girl because I did horrible. Sunday was also the day of Wimbledon which I will not talk about.

I had a "lesson" Monday. It wasn't really a lesson at all. Bob and I just sat there and talked, and then my mom and Dale came over because Dale wanted to meet Bob. So to make her happy, I let her meet Bob. She picked a good day to meet him because we didn't do anything with guitar. It was more like, "What do you want to do?" "I don't know..What do you think we should do?" "I don't know..It's hot." My mom and Dale showed up around quarter of five. So Bob gave us the Grand Tour (I was the veteran of the group), and Dale was happy. Then we did our favorite thing (aside form music)--we talked..conversed sounds better. I love my guitar lessons. I love seeing Bob. It's the best part of my week. I love my other friends more than I could say, but they can't play guitar. And we all know how much I love guitar.

I don't feel like talking about my horrible mini-golf round. I played so bad. We went last night (My mom, Dale, myself, Danielle, Alyssa, and Lyn), and after a certain point I just stopped trying because I played so bad. Alyssa won.

Today I went to the beach. It was beautiful. Dale and I went in the water, and then I was so tired from waking up at 7:45 to go to the eye doctor's for the third time this week, I fell asleep. I never take naps, and I never nap at the beach. But the sun was just right and I was so tired that I just dozed off. I had planned on reading, but that didn't happen. I'm still tired now. My mom said she's never seen a generation as tired as mine. So many of my friends nap all the time, it's crazy. I never nap. I hate naps, once I'm up, I'm up. Let me go full speed ahead until 11ish or later, and then I'll sleep like a baby. Which I will do tonight I'm sure.

It looks like we're ordering my mom's Mac tomorrow. My dad is still anti-Mac. Once he tries this, he won't want to go back to PCs. Macs don't break. They're much more use-friendly. And they're more fun. And I'm all about fun. They might be a bit more money, but they're worth it in the end (because they don't break).

The other day I figured out a way to record and have both the guitar and the vocals sound decent. The actual quality of the recording is still bad, but it's better than nothing for now. But you can't get very good quality with a computer microphone that cost sixteen dollars. If I don't get the Mac, then I'll go out and get a 4-track and a good microphone. Either way, I'll get a good microphone. But the Mac has an infinite-track recorder with Garage Band.

I think I'm coming down with a cold. I better be over it by Saturday (John Mayer!!). Speaking of JM, I gotta call Matt and figure out what time we're gonna leave.

My hand hurts. I'm gonna go now.