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.