Follow the yellow brick road?

My heart lurched. A lump formed in my throat. Tears sprang to my eyes. To want something this bad hurts… especially when one knows it is not within his/her grasp. Especially mine. Watching people perform on the stage is really emotional for me. When their emotions show during the song they’re performing, it affects me. Deeply. I’m torn in-between reality and fantasyland. Which should I choose? The practical way? The logical way? The way where I have a sure chance at succeeding? Or…should I shoot and eventually miss? Should I be risky? Should I jump without knowing where I might fall?

I’ve had pipes since, well, I don’t even remember when. Chorus teachers I have had over the years have always acknowledged my talent, and their acknowledgement eventually paved the road to my distant dreamland hidden in a thick fog. All I wanted to be when I was younger was a singer. A real professional vocalist with millions of adoring fans. Then I began to love Evanescence and thought: wow, it would be awesome to be the female lead to a hard rock band. Thus, a bigger dream was born.

Maybe you’ve noticed that I have a deep obsession with female fronted bands – and well, now you know why. I aspire to be like them; I want to be in their position so badly. It aches to see them perform and think about just how lucky they really are. They are exactly what I want to be. All I want is to perform with my band on a stage in a grand theater to a crowd of a million. To spill out my emotions through song and slump off the stage exhausted when I am done. I want to sing and run around with the mic. I want to lean on the mic stand and have sweat pouring off of me from so much exertion. I want to stop singing and listen to the crowd sing the next verse – a verse most likely derived from a line of a poem I wrote when I was twelve. I want to share my love of singing with the world and I want to belt it until I can’t belt it “no more.”

At my fork in the road, to the right lies the road that leads to my dreamland. The road paved with yellow bricks and patches of lilies of the valley growing on the side giving off my favorite aroma. To the left is an equally pleasant-looking road, only it is paved with brick that gives off the more practical red-ish color. This road is the one I’m to follow should I want to be successful on the first try. The writing road. I’ve been told I was born to write, but I’ve also been told that I have a very powerful voice. Now, should I choose the yellow brick road that leads to my dream career of being the female in a female fronted band? Or, should I venture down the more structurally sound road that leads to definite success? Do I want to be an exact clone of my mother and eldest brother, or do I want to be the first to set foot on my own yellow brick road?

Meeting him

One of my very good friends and I attended a concert at Town Ballroom in Buffalo about a month ago consisting of A Skylit Drive, Alesana, Escape the Fate, Silverstein, and Chiodos. His brother drove us, and I would not have been able to go if Escape the Fate had not been going. He knew that ETF is my favorite band, and so I tagged along. (I never got around to writing about it until now – now the shock has worn off.)

After a very interesting trip to the mall (read older post), we were on our way. At the door, the big dude dressed all in black asked: “over or under 21?” I wasn’t thinking clearly and did not know what he was saying, so I replied with a stupid-sounding “huh?!?!?” and then I realized what he was asking right when he was repeating himself. “Oh…under!!!” I said. Christian only laughed at me.

Inside, we stood around for awhile before actually entering the performance room. We waited and waited and waited while A Skylit Drive got all of their equipment set up, and then they performed. I recognized a few songs that they played, but they are not my favorite so I definitely did not know them all. Christian did not know any, and nor did his brother.

After them, Alesana. I had heard a few songs by them in the past, and I did not exactly like them, but their freakish screaming woke me up and got me ready to listen to the best band of all: Escape the Fate.

While ETF was setting up, I was hyperventilating with excitement. I don’t think Christian is human because he did not seem very excited at all. Course, he’d been to concerts before whereas I had not.

They jumped onto the stage. Instantly girly screams of “whoooo!!!” escaped my mouth, but I did not care. My camera was out shooting pictures left and right and all over the place. The first song they performed “The Flood” was absolutely amazing. Craig is the best replacement of Ronnie that they could have ever asked for. Bryan’s guitar was phenomenal, Max was looking fine in bright red sneakers, and his voice sounded great next to Craig’s.

When their performance was over, I looked at my camera and realized that I had taken almost 100 pictures, and over ten videos. Next came Silverstein, and they calmed me down quite a bit. I hung back with Christian and his brother because neither of them knew the songs, even though I did. I recorded their whole performance of “My Heroine” and love watching it now whenever I get the chance.

After Silverstein was done and before Chiodos came on was the highlight of my whole night. We went out into the main room to buy some of the merchandise that was for sale, and I bought another ETF tee to join the one I already have (which Christian bought me, coincidentally). I bought a two dollar bottle of water, and we stood around, just people watching. Derek, Christian’s brother turned to us and said “isn’t that the lead singer of Escape the Fate standing right next to me?!?”

I started hyperventilating all over again. “OH MY GOD IT IS!!!!”

“Why don’t you go talk to him?” He said.

With that, I took off and tapped on Craig’s shoulder. “You guys were amazing! I took so many pictures and videos of you guys!!!” He said, “c’mere” and gave me a hug! Just as he let me go, I remembered my camera. “Christian!!! BRING MY CAMERA OVER HERE! Can I get a picture taken with you?!?!?!”

He replied, “sure!”

Now I have a picture of Craig making a face as if I am famous and he is meeting me for the first time. What a joker he is. Then Christian asked “wait, can I have one too?” and then I took the picture for him (and added the flash, I might say).

I will never EVER forget that for my entire life. I met the lead singer of my favorite band! Sure, he’s no Ronnie, but I think that I love Craig even more.

I can tell by the stands

I knew that I had a lot of work to make up when I got back in school today, but I didn’t know how overwhelmed I would be. Along my journey through the hell that is today, I found that we have a Spanish test and an Earth Science test tomorrow. Spanish should not be too bad (besides the fact that we have a monster of a substitute), but Earth Science is a subject I am doomed to fail.

Right now I should be in Mr. Reeves’ classroom to make up a Geometry test that I never finished, but guess what? I would much rather blog my heart out. Today I was stretched to my limit, and unfortunately I am not a rubber band that just goes back and takes its old shape.

I knew right away that today was going to be a bad day. My mother left me to decide whether or not I was going to attend school today, but I knew that I had to. We have block periods (which I totally disagree with), so missing one day of school means one is technically missing TWO days of either English or Biology/Earth Science/Chemistry/Physics. Imagine if a person misses a whole five-day week of school. Not only will that person be trying to recover from whatever kept them out of school, but they also have a mountain of homework to do.

Anyway, back to why I knew today would be a bad day. I entered the band room (late, of course because I had to wait in line at the office to hand in my excuse) and sat down in my chair. Yes, I got greetings that sounded like “she’s back!” and “good morning!” and “are you feeling better?” but that still didn’t boost my mood. I sat down and set my band folder on the stand and placed my bag onto the floor. When I tried to raise my stand up, it would not budge at all. I looked at Becca (who sits next to me) and said “well, this is going to be the broken stand that breaks off when I use more force to raise it.” Sure enough, the top of the stand popped off. I can usually tell what kind of a day I will have by the condition of the stand I am using that day in band. I got up to find a new stand, but they were all in use, so Becca and I had to share (even though we are supposed to all have our own).

English began. I handed in my essay, but did not and still do not have a very good feeling about it. We watched The Glass Menagerie and all I wanted to do was sleep.

Lunch then Spanish. It was in Spanish that I realized that I really seriously cannot hear very well. For some reason, the cold that I have settled in my ears and I can barely hear out of my left and am totally deaf in my right. I was trying to talk to a friend, but he had to keep repeating himself because he talks softly and I could not hear anything. Not fun.

With Global came my first bloody nose of the day. I tore out of the room and ran into the bathroom where I would be safe for a few minutes. I managed to stop the blood from flowing, and returned to Global. Right before Chamber Choir ended, I felt my nose running again and flew out of the room once more. I returned, the bell rang, and now here I am.

So far today has been a miserable day. Maybe cross-country practice will cure all of my agonies. (Ha, yeah right!)

School

It seems to me like summer never even happened. Now that I am in the day-to-day “school” routine, everything is back to normal. My iPod (PANDORA!!!) sings me the song I picked out the night before at around 5:45 every morning, and then I wait for the playlist to run out before I get up (usually around 6:20). I get up, take a shower, eat breakfast (well, drink some coffee to prevent future headaches), and wash my face before I let my hair down and mess around with it. I walk out the door wearing some crazy outfit (today it is a pair of crazy colored Bermuda shorts, brown high top Chucks with pink shoelaces, a red Hollister 3/4 polo and a white tank top underneath – I know! Hollister! *gasp!*).

School is just okay. Being a sophomore is definitely different. I open up the day with band, then either English or Earth Science for eighty minutes, lunch (yes, at ten o’clock in the morning), Spanish (which has been simple so far because the regular teacher is out sick and our substitute does not know a single word of the language), Global (my teacher is hilarious!) and then Chamber Choir. After Chamber Choir comes either a study hall (where I am right now) or PE. Then, the dreaded Geometry. I have found it easier to focus this year in math. I already got a 100% on our first test, and was the only student to receive said grade (YES! I put it on the fridge! xD).

Soaked to the bone

School started a few days ago, and despite my mourning of the end of summer, I think that it will actually be okay. This week it has been all about football. Football this. Football that. Football football football. The cheerleaders wore their “cute” little uniforms to school today, and pranced around with blue and white ribbons in their hair. (I have actually tried on one of those uniforms, and let me tell you, they are definitely not cute.) The football players sauntered through the hallways with their dumb jock expressions and their ugly jerseys. The Varsity jerseys are okay, actually, it is the Junior Varsity jerseys that are messed up and ugly and stained. Yuck.

I play the flute and piccolo in our school band. Yes, I am, in fact, a band geek. Our band director told us to show up to the “big” football game at 6:45, for the game was due to begin at seven o’clock. I got home from cross country practice and lounged around for a little while, glancing nervously at the clock every now and then. I began to get ready when the time was right, and put on a white tank top (black tank top underneath), blue jeans and flip flops. I had no idea that I would be freezing my tush off for the rest of the night.

I played my piccolo along with the band every time the ref blew the whistle, and stopped when they began playing again. Pretty soon, tiny raindrops began to fall. My friend who sat beside me was chanting “It’s not going to rain! It’s not going to rain!” Let me just say that her little chant did not work.

It started pouring. I hurriedly stuffed my piccolo into its case, and ran off to join my brother and one of my very good friends. We walked around the facility and soon enough I was so soaked that I did not even care that my feet were splashing around in the puddles. I talked with friends, got told that I made a “wise” choice for wearing a white tank top, and soon my teeth were chattering so fiercely that I could not even make them stop.

All I craved was a hot shower. A nice long, hot shower to wash away all of the rain water. Right when I got home, I put my wet clothes in the washer, and enjoyed a shower. After being showered on by raindrops, it was everything I needed.

P.S. The team ended up winning. Woohoo. (Again, sarcasm.)