Thank You Walt

March 2 was probably one of the worst days of my life. Why? Because it was the day my orchestra left the Happiest Place on Earth after being there for five days. That's right people, Disney World. It's almost been two months, and my friends still tease me about how much I miss being there.

February 26 was one of the best days of my life, because that was the day we left. Right when I got off the plane, I knew this trip would be one to remember. The sun was shining and there were palm trees everywhere, not something I'm used to in the Midwest. After arriving at the All-Star Music Resort, I immediately ran inside for a quick second to change into a pair of shorts. Shorts! In February! Then it was straight off to the Hollywood Studios park for the first day of Disney Amazingness.

That first day was the first day of me freaking out before going on every ride at the park. My friend had made it a point to drag me on every ride since before that I had been extremely scared of roller coasters (I'm so glad he did!). So standing in line for Tower of Terror, (as well as most other rides) to say I was scared is a definite understatement. I was shaking, whimpering, and just freaking out. But I had a great support system of friends who, after laughing at my hilarious terror, held my hand and said I wouldn't die on the ride =] I love them for that.

Spending every day at Disney World with no chaperones to walk around with us (and only about two check in times a day) was incredible. Occasionally we would see our orchestra directors which made for very interesting encounters (especially when our crazy Mr. Meyer was in the front row of the Hulk roller coaster at Universal Studios!). And we only performed once, which I think is hilarious; a five day trip, for a half an hour of performing. I became so much closer to everyone on the trip, and just being down there with no stress, no school work, nothing to worry about, made the trip that much better. Disney World is great for cultivating new and strong friendships and for giving a person the time of their life. Plus you can meet Mickey Mouse. Nuff said. I love that guy.

Sais Tu, Acadie, J'ai Le Mal Du Pays

Usually people are homesick for, well, their home. The place they grew up, or somewhere near, or just a place that holds a lot of memories for them. Sure, when I go to camp, I get homesick, or something like that, but I have found that even here at home I get homesick. Well, I can't really call it homesickness. Perhaps Canada-sickness would be better. Because the the place I miss superly a lot is Quebec City, in Quebec, Canada. Oh. My. Gosh.
I've always thought that I loved cities, the hustle and bustle of everyone going place to place. But after traveling to Quebec City during Spring break of 8th grade with my parents, that view has completely changed. I LOVED it there. We stayed in Le Chateau Frontenac, a beautiful and majestic hotel built for the Canadian Pacific Railway. It's that building in the center left background of the photograph. Again. Oh. My. Gosh. It's beautiful inside and out, and the staff actually upgraded our room for free, which just added to the magnificence of it all. And once we left the hotel and went outside, I was basically in Heaven. The hotel is located on an elevated bluff looking out on the St. Lawrence River. We could take a Funicular (keyword: Fun-icular; they rock) down to the lower level (the funicular station is a little convenience store converted from the explorer Louis Jolliet's old home) where a lot of the shops were located, and all the quaint European type streets, narrow and filled with tons of colors. And the city is filled with historical landmarks as well, such as the Plains of Abraham, as mentioned in one of my favorite songs, "Acadian Driftwood" by The Band. Great song (the blog title is a lyric to the song; don't worry, most of the song is in English =]). But we drove there, and although it was closed that particular day, it was still awesome to witness the spot where the French so bravely fought the British, even though they were not victorious. Finally, everyone there speaks French as a first language. Nuff said, French rocks. It's gorgeous there, and I think about it too often. Perhaps I'll live there someday, among the beauty, the quaintness, and the Canadians.

My Newest Love

I decided, the other day, that I would someday like to own every instrument available to man. Preferably string instruments, as I have a greater affinity for playing them, but a clarinet or giant harmonica wouldn't be bad either. My grandma gave me my grandpa's old trumpet a couple years ago, but the only sound I've ever been able to achieve on it is a flatulence-type sound. Perhaps I'll break it out again one of these days. But I think it would be really cool to find instruments that are rare, unheard of, or maybe often mistaken for other instruments, and to become really good at playing them, so when people asked me, "Oh, what instruments do you play?" I could say stuff like the sitar, or the Chapman stick, or harpsichord. But I'm getting there. Today, if people ask me, "Oh what instruments do you play?" I answer, "Piano" (eh... lotsa people play that) "Viola" (okay that's a little more strange sounding...) "Mandolin" (ummm... what?). Yep, mandolin is my newest love, and I plan to study it even as my instrumental library keeps growing. As of right now, I own two mandolins. One is a normal modern one, has a pretty good sound. If you were at the holiday concert at my school, you saw me playing it during one of Cecilian choir's songs, Sail Away. My other one is a gem. It is a bowlback Washburn mandolin, around 100 years old. It had been my... hold on, let me think about this... my great-grandma's next door neighbor's mandolin in the early 1900s, and he used to serenade his wife with it. It was then passed to my family (not sure why, i guess we're just awesome) and passed down to my mom. It was on display in our living room for pretty much ever. One day last year, after the school guitar teacher had done a little presentation for my choir on the mandolin, I asked to take it down, and after playing a couple melodies on it, one of the E-strings broke. It had to be superly fixed up by our good friends at the Music Center of Deerfield, but now it plays amazingly. My teacher is astounded by how nice the sound is, as if it's been broken in all these years, and is finally in its prime. It's beautiful.
Just a little technical background information on the mandolin, um first, it's not a ukulele, thank you very much. Second, it's tuned exactly like a violin, which is why, with my viola experience, and my ear for pitches and melodies, I was able to pick it up pretty quickly. The difference is in the number of the strings however. While both the violin and mandolin have strings, the mandolin has TWO of each. That's right people, eight strings altogether. And it's plucked or strummed with a rounded pick. It's pretty much awesome. And I was amazed when I first started, the list of artists who play. Check out this link, chances are, at least one person from one of your favorite bands is on the list.
Mandolin has opened up a whole new world for me. I used to hate bluegrass, for instance. But it's the number one music genre played on mandolin. And now I kinda love it. And it's used in tons of my favorite songs, like Unsaid by The Fray, Going to California by Led Zeppelin, or anything by Nickel Creek. To me it's awesome to have discovered this new exciting way to express myself through music, which is my favorite thing to do. And as my list of instruments grows (banjo... I REALLY want a banjo....) I am 100% certain that mandolin will stay close to my heart as long as music is there AKA for the rest of my life.

For Future Reference

For future reference, never let any pet you have get sprayed by a skunk. Heck, never let anything you have ever get sprayed by a skunk. It will ruin your week, not to mention your sofa. In fact, our sofa cover has been sitting in the porch since Monday night, when my dog got sprayed at 10:30 PM, the night (of course) before my AP European History test. She is a West Highland White Terrier, which means she likes to hunt small rodents, including those of the skunk species. That's probably how she got sprayed on November 3, harassing the neighborhood skunk. But this whole situation has gotten me thinking, what is it that makes the skunk smell so nasty? Why is it such a dreaded odor to creep into one's house? As we all know, the skunk's most notorious defense mechanism is its putrid spray, which they use only if they are in mortal danger. Their two glands, on either side of the anus, produce a mixture of chemicals that contain sulfur, specifically methyl and butyl thiols (mercaptans). This substance creates an incredibly unpleasant smell, which can be described as a mixture of rotten eggs, sulfur, garlic, and burnt rubber. Muscles near the glands allow the skunks to spray up to 15 (!) feet of this liquid. Aside from the smell itself, the spray can cause irritation and even temporary blindness. They don't use it too often, only when they feel threatened, in this case, by my dog... Yes, my dog has a very threatening disposition. Uh, yeah, not really. So yeah. This has been recent in my life, so it's something to blog about. Maybe this will be beneficial to not having your house smell like years-old eggs, which is a plus. And to get the smell of your dog, good luck. We used water, baking soda and hydrogen peroxide, which doesn't harm the dog surprisingly. A friend of mine, after I told her how we got the smell somewhat off our dog, asked, "Was she like, sizzling?" Surprisingly, no. The combination reacts witht the chemicals in the spray, that deodorizes it. It doesn't go away completely however; stale skunk smell mixed with wet dog smell (it rained a couple days later)? Not a good combination. The smell is uncomfortable, of course. But it will go away. Eventually...

Congratulations, Spartans

What a great season. Spartan JV girls volleyball team, I just want to say thanks for a crazy, awesome, fun, hilarious, incredible season. It went by so fast, but they say that time flies when you're having fun. That pretty much sums it up. We have so many great memories from this season that I can't even begin to list them. I would probably run out of room on my page. From waking up early and chowing down bagels before a tournament to coach's little boy trying as hard as he possibly could to reach the bottom of that net ("I missed! I missed!"), the list goes on forever. As for that last tournament, wow. It was incredible. Yeah, we got second place. But we got SECOND PLACE!! That's awesome! We played out of our minds! So many kills, straight down the line, and perfect passes and serves, the others teams never had a chance! And then out in the hallway, we were kinda crazy. I haven't seen that movie yet (don't worry I really want to!) and already the song is stuck in my head! I can't even imagine the looks on everyone's faces in the gym when we started singing at the top of our lungs. "They're volleyball players, not singers." Thanks coach. We all got along so well with each other, which definitely helped to account for our success. We were a cohesive group, always working hard but having fun at the same time. Except for those down-and-backs, those were not that great. But it was a great time. I cannot believe that the season went by so quickly. But we keep saying that our last tournament was a celebration, not a goodbye. Besides, weight-lifting three times a week starts now. I'm guessing we'll all have just as much fun together.

PS The photo has nothing to do with anything... I just thought it was funny :)

Lovable but Luckless Losers

I cannot tell you how excited I was for the Cubs to be in the playoffs. We all were. Bouncing off the walls, cheering our heads off when we heard those wondrous yet false confidence giving words, "CUBS CLINCH!" Going into their first playoff game on October 1st, the atmosphere was... crazy. There's no other word to describe the emotions running through every Cubs fan's head. And we started off well, too, scoring two runs in the second inning. Oh, Cubbies. Our hopes were high after that second inning. Bring us to the fifth inning when the Dodgers scored four, and it was all downhill from there. Final score : Cubs 2, Dodgers 7. Game one, bust. Ok, no big deal, just step it up next game, we can still come back. Positive thoughts through every fan's head. But game two brought us to disaster. Maybe it was nerves, or maybe not, but the second inning of that second game showed us our true fate as 2008 Cubs fans. Hey DeRosa, it happens to the best of us, I understand. Bad timing. And Derrek, the ball was right there the whole time, but no worries. I'm a first baseman too, and that has probably happened to me before. Five runs in for the Dodgers that inning, and all confidence was lost for that game too. So game two, bust. Need I say anything about the third game? Game three, *sigh.* The end of 2008 North Side baseball.
So... I'm pretty sure we're cursed. Yeah, I'll just blame the stupid billy goat who started this whole thing. It's his stupid fault we got into this stupid mess. But I gotta wonder; why lose all three playoff games right off the bat? Oh my gosh, that pun was not intended. I mean, they swept the Pirates three times, the White Sox, the Diamondbacks, the Rockies, the DODGERS, the list goes on. They were better known as the Lovable Winners, with the best record in the National League this season. They most definitely knew the Dodgers were beatable, so why didn't the Cubs win? Nerves of "OMG WORLD SERIES!"? Probably that was part of it. I don't think that, as Cubs fans, we will ever know. Break the curse, yeah sure. There is no curse, okay? It's all in our heads, that scapegoat billy goat. We don't want an excuse. We don't NEED an excuse; we have a great team, and when we fans say next year, we mean it 100%. We have learned to be forgiving, I think solely because of the nature of our Cubbies. Yes, it was a disappointing end to the season, but seriously, next year will be a whole different, better-ending story. I hope. You know what, no, I don't hope. I know.

Taking a Breather

My parents went on a jazz safari (wooo) over this past weekend in Toronto, Canada, leaving me behind with my grandparents, watching HGTV at every waking moment. While I was stuck at home, they were out whooping it up at many different jazz clubs, all in the Toronto area. I understand that a lot of people my age don't appreciate jazz music for what it is. That's absolutely fine; we're living in an age where rap and hip-hop pretty much dominate the whole music scene. But for those who do appreciate this type of music, myself included, take a listen; you will be awed. It’s called Bohemian Rhapsody in Blue Rondo a la Turk. A mouthful, but it is pure musical genius. It’s not available on iTunes, so I will try to find a way to somehow post it someday… Sorry. There's something about this song that is captivating, something that will make a person just drop what they’re doing, and just listen. That’s just my opinion, and that’s exactly what I did. I listened. Who, in this day and age, ever just stops to listen? It feels like everyone always is in a hurry to do something, to go somewhere, to meet someone to do a project. It’s especially prevalent in our daily lives, my fellow students and friends, in the high school setting. There’s only ever just enough time to finish that math assignment, and/or active-read a really really really long epic poem, and then straight off to bed to do it all over again the next day. And I’m not giving permission to blow off school. That is not the right path, trust me. But sometimes we just need a break. I get my break by listening to music. Watching television, going for a walk, playing volleyball, having an intellectual discussion, these are all ways to take a break. My parents took a break from all the craziness and immensely enjoyed themselves. And just so you readers don’t think I’m getting all off-topic and completely switching the subject, listening to Robert Scott’s Bohemian Rhapsody in Blue Rondo a la Turk (what a hassle to type) made me come to the realization that I need to make time. Not to complete an assignment, but to listen. To take a break. And seriously, the song is awesome.