Career Day: Musician

May 21, 2009

5/20/09

In the words of Doug H. being a musician takes three things, hard work, hard work, and more hard work. “Does anyone here love music?” Doug asked. Most of the audience replied yes, then Doug asked again, “Do you really love music? And I mean love. Not just, Oh yeah, I ‘love’ music.”

That glamorous life you have all heard about, it isn’t real. “About one in a million bands get the limousines, concerts, and money,” Doug said. If you truly enjoy making reckless, yet joyful noise on your instrument of choice then go for it. But if you really love it then you won’t just practice oh say, thirty minutes a day. Doug continued, “We’re talkin’ three to five hours a day and you practice that long because you feel like you need to.”

According to Doug H. as a musician you are never simply finished. There is always something to work on, something to improve. There are many reasons why you shouldn’t become a musician. It’s hard to pay rent et cetera. And it is extremely hard to “make it” as a fellow musician. If you are passionate about making and listening to music then all the fame, glory, and money shouldn’t matter. Some people may ask why you would “throw away” so much to be a musician, but it’s what you want and you do it because you love it.

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You’re Gonna Go Far Kid

February 16, 2009

I was thinking. If I was offered the opportunity to be a journalist for a music magazine (possibly Alternative Press or Rolling Stone) or to be a guitarist in an amazing band. Which would I choose? I had wanted to play guitar since I was nine years old. Practicing my air guitar in the privacy of my own room, completely spazing. Or pouring my guts out with ink and paper in hopes of becoming an utterly brilliant writer.

Being in a band would be quite interesting. I’d enjoy the fun questionnaires you get in interviews and your “humble” opinion on things. Looking super fierce in when you play live so you can intimidate people. Or to be some coffee drinking freak, blinded from the sun, glued to your computer, writing obsesser. Wearing T-shirts and tight jeans, strutting around like you know what you’re doing. Reader, does that thought ever cross your mind? I wonder where life will take me quite often. Who will I end up being in the next couple of years (I’m hoping I’ll stay true to who I am now.)?

Reader, let’s be honest. Would either of those jobs fully satisfy me? I seem to be quite an undecided person. I purchase an item at a store. “I love it! I’m so happy I bought it!” The next twenty minutes. “What the heck did I just waste my money on?! I could have bought ‘such and such’.” Yep, that is me. Being on the road with a band would be fun for a while. Awake at all hours, doing what you love, traveling, and playing shows. My only problem? I get motion sickness. I’d practically be bulimic. Then the shows would get tiring, performing the same songs until you write a new one. I suppose I shouldn’t think so negatively, maybe I’d be able to make a big impact on a lot of kids. Then there is writing. After a while, what is there to talk about? You are usually seen with a pen in your hand or your eyes are burning from staring at a computer screen for so many hours.

I guess I can be quite the “party pooper”, but that’s just me my friend. You either do or don’t like me, I don’t care too much. Either one I’d love. Writing would be easier to handle, though I’d miss the comfort of my guitar, Bella, too much. The excitement of playing a gig and going crazy on stage sounds and looks intruiging. Who knows where the world might take me….


We Meet Again

February 1, 2009

I had waited all week to make my trip back to Hot Topic to see my favorite (realistic) vampire. It was almost postponed *gasp*. Thankfully I made an excuse to go down and see him, though my ride (mother) did not buy it. My younger sister’s birthday is coming up so I’d pick something out for her. (It’s quite funny, really. I have my little sisters listening to bands like My Chemical Romance, All Time Low, and Paramore. Then they’ll walk around the house singing the lyrics to “Teenagers” or as Eleanor would say, “Teenagerds”. Ha-ha!) I hope you don’t get the wrong idea and think I’m stalking him, only making a trip down to my second favorite store.

Eli is there and since it is Super Bowl Sunday, the mall is practically vacant.  I smile on the inside knowing that Eli is up at the counter. For some reason I don’t fell much excitement. That is the best part. I come down on a Sunday to end my week nicely with a feeling of excitement and joy, yet I feel plain. The feeling when you could smile at nothing for days, do cartwheels around the house, or get tingles on your arms?  Have I lost the feeling completely?

Walking around David, is nice as usual, asks the same ol’, “Do you need any help finding something?” or “You guys doin’ alright?” You have to admit, it can get a bit annoying. I found the belt I wanted. White with cute, colorful, little monster people on it. Unfortunately it is a little big, but at least it fits! For my younger sister I found a small, pink, plush, Domo doll which should fit, considering her birthday is on Valentines Day. I walk around a little, trying to time it right so Eli can ring up my items this time.

At last I am paying for my items and Eli asks, “Do you want to donate a dollar to a charity for kids so they can get a better music foundation and get one of those bags?” As he pointed to two black messenger bags. One with a skull and the other smaller one that reads “music = life” Or at least something like that. I was once again lost in my own little world, inside my head, not paying attention to what he was saying. I replied mindlessly, “Uh, sure.” While speaking to him, a heat reached my cheek bones. How many times must he make me blush?!?! Eek! I already had the smaller bag left over from Christmas. Eli replied, “Do you want the smaller one or the bigger one?” It took me a moment to reply and just said, “Um, you can just keep the dollar.” He rolled up my belt and handed me the Domo plush, our hands almost touched. I couldn’t help but to think, Jeez, he has ginormous hands!!! I decided to save a plastic bag and put my items into a Disney bag my mother and I had been carrying around.

I left the store, in the words of my friend Hannah, blushing Bella red.


REVIEW: “Burned” by Ellen Hopkins

January 31, 2009

My mother was kind enough to pick a copy up for me a few days ago. I devoured the whole book in one day. I was glued to just about every page as I was addicted to Ethan and Pattyn’s romance, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Pattyn Von Stratten is a good Mormon girl. She feels plain,as she takes care of her stay-at-home mother’s jobs like cleaning, washing clothes, and taking care of her six younger siblings (technically five) along with the help of her favorite sister. While her mother lays around the house all day. When her father comes home with “Joannie” most nights, there is trouble. The kids are rushed back to their rooms as their mother takes the blow. The abuse. Pattyn has her first sex dream, and it involves her school crush. Though instead of kissing Justin, it is Derrick who steals her heart for the moment. After the first kiss there are a lot more, with tequila and beer along the way. One day her father finds her in the said, “compromising position”, and things keep going in a downward spiral for Pattyn until finally her father sends her to live with her Aunt J for the summer.

Living with Pattyn’s Aunt J was supposed to be a punishment not a reward, but things start to go Pattyn’s way. Then she meets Ethan. This can’t just be a summer fling, right? Right. Ethan shows Pattyn love, more than she had asked for. Though if her father were to ever find out she was dating than, Ethan who was not Mormon, they both would be dead. Literally. Pattyn has to go back home at the end of summer vacation. *** SPOILER ALERT*** As Pattyn takes the abuse from her father, bruises and blood are left. After that she finds out she is pregnant. Pregnant with Ethan’s baby. Plans are made for Ethan to come down and get Pattyn one day after school to take some time to ponder what they are going to do. Not noticing someone has taken off their licence plates, the police attempt to pull Ethan and Pattyn over during their “escape” drive. Pattyn orders Ethan not to stop, go faster. Until the accident. Ethan and the baby are both gone, dead. Pattyn is devastated (so was I) and decides life no longer matters….

I absolutely adored this book. I was intrigued with Pattyn and Ethan’s romance, which I wish could be real ALL the time. I loved her Aunt J, she reminded me of the woman who played Bella’s (Twilight) mother IN THE MOVIE. Happy, outgoing, smart, loving. I wish I had an aunt like that, cross that, I do. I was terribly annoyed that her mother, her sister, nor her own self told anyone (minus Ethan) about their beatings from their father/husband. This book explored the emotions of  joy, excitement, lust and love, complete with anger, hurt, devastation, and tragedy. Weaving together a masterpiece, which I would recommend to any Ellen Hopkins fans or just someone looking for a quick yet intriguing and beautiful read. FIVE OUT OF FIVE STARS.


A Little Bit of Hurt

January 4, 2009

If you really take a good hard look at what the world is like, sometimes I think it is better to be in denial. With these terrible house guests I’ve learned a lot. First of all, I never thought I would meet people so screwed up. I mean if I were one of them I wouldn’t be alive right now. Their mother is a lazy, pot smoking, psycho who doesn’t have a clue how to treat or care for a child.

My dad works at a R&B night club. I thought that was ironic, because my dad hates crowds, loud music, and being up until three in the morning. Though, if you have been out of work for a year then I see where he is coming from. My father had hired Abby as a female bouncer.  One night Libby and Layla are up at five in the morning and my dad arrives home from The Boats and they ask, “Where is our mom?” Abby should have been there way before my father so he replied, “I don’t know.” We never found out where she was or who she was with, but that happened more than once. Abby lied to my family, her daughters, and god knows who else. My dad was fed up with it so we are kicking them out. All I can think is, “FREE AT LAST!!!!!”  Yet, it also makes me sad because whether or not I liked those girls they aren’t better off with or without their mother. My mom said to me, “Honey I don’t think there is going to be a happy ending for these girls.” I’ve been thinking about that since my mother told me that.

Tonight it made me think back to a movie I saw early last year or so. Actually I think it was couple of years ago, I’m not quite sure. Anyway, the movie was called “Grave Of The Fireflies”. grave20of20the20fireflies20dvd1I don’t remember much of it. A boy and his little sister living in Japan at the end of World War II. Their mother dies of burn wounds, their father dies in the war, and in the end his little sister who was only around three or four years of age dies of starvation. Oh yeah, the boy dies too. In the movie that boy loved his litle sister so much, it made me sad she was tooken away from him. The last member left from his family other than himself. I wanted to cry so badly after I saw that movie. Heck, I might have I don’t remember. I couldn’t erase the memories of it that night as I tried to sleep. I wasn’t even old enough to understand it enough, I was just sad the little girl had died. Right now I feel like watching that movie again. It was amazing, poignant, or maybe brutal is a better word, but beautiful. You only need to see this movie a couple times so I am urging you to go read more about it on this link http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grave_of_the_Fireflies 

Sometimes I think we all need a little bit of hurt in our lives. To prove that we are strong enough to move on without feeling sorrowful our whole lives.


Hello Alone (Home Is a Far Away Place)

December 5, 2008

“Hello Alone” is a song written and performed by Anberlin. Yes, that is all I wish for right now, to be ALONE, yet not lonely. I feel stressed, upset, angry, and annoyed. Why? You ask. Well, my family of six has taken in another family, of three girls ages 13 and 8 and I’m not quite sure how old their mother is. Let’s call them Abby, Layla, and Lacey.

My father works with their mother Abby. It is selfish of me to want them out of my personal space, but I’m not the kind of person who shares easily, especially when it comes to sharing my home. I’ve been keeping myself locked up in a little office down in our basement. No one is to dare to bother me. Taming my addiction to the internet by answering emails, blogging, reading, and listening to music. Sharing a room with a thirteen year old sure is a hassle. I love the quiet except for when it comes to music. To not feel the need to speak to others when I don’t feel the need to. All the thirteen year old, Layla does is talk.  About, boys, how gay people are “butt pirates”, and sex. All of which freaks me out, nauseates me. It annoys me that she is so homophobic *mutters under breath*. I answer her with mostly “uh-huh”s, “hmm”s, “yeah”s. One thing is for sure, she is friggen’ boy crazy. I’ve never had a boyfriend and I honestly don’t care to. Besides kids at this age are effing morons, UGH! Layla keeps me up late at night when all I want to do is escape to the comfort of my own room.

Oh man, and her younger sister Lacey *sigh*. Whenever Layla comes near her she squeals and whines. Layla of course tells her to shut up and then hits her for no reason! I get mad at my siblings, but I don’t torture them all the time. Their mother is disgusting. She farts and makes disturbing jokes, she also likes one of our neighbors, we’ll call him Stan. Stan works with my dad too, my father was kind enough to help him find a place to stay. “Conveniently” a couple houses down from ours (har har). My parents gave my siblings and I the choice to help our visitors out, and my mom didn’t seem to keen on the idea, yet my dad seemed excited. I reluctantly said yes not knowing how big of a mistake I had made. I should have known. Though as I’ve told you I really dislike school, well I’m more fond of it now. It seems to be my escape. I don’t care if kids mess with me or if a teacher is mean, those people do not live with me. My fear is coming back home to a house full of people.

Last night I asked if my mother could run me to Barnes and Nobel because I had babysitting money leftover. I took my youngest sister Eleanor, our “babysitter”, and my aunt Sherry. I was looking for “Watchmen”, which I sadly couldn’t find. Spending most of my time in the young adult books I found “Glass” by Ellen Hopkins and “It’s Kind of a Funny Story” by Ned Vizzini. Eleanor saw her friend Lily with her mothers at Barnes and Noble which was nice because they are some of the nicest people. Once I had decided on which books I was purchasing I went down to the second floor and looked for a new issue of an Alternative Press magazine which I couldn’t find. Instead I grabbed a Teen magazine because Robert Pattinson was the main picture on the front cover, SQUEE!! Getting coffee and reading books is a good combination. I shared a mocha frappuccino with my mother and six year old sister Eleanor along with a peanut butter cookie, YUM! Barnes and Noble is my other escape place. Books, music, coffee, magazines the whole deal. I’d love to sit there for hours just browsing the store *sigh*, if only it were that simple. I feel guilty for having these feeling towards the family and venting to those who honestly do not give a care, yet I’ve been told my feelings are still valid. I sulk while my mother is driving us back home. My aunt Sherry and I tell Eleanor that if anyone asks you say, “Um… we went to Target and somewhere else I forgot.” If Eleanor wanted to tell anyone she could call our aunt Sherry.

I stuck the Teen magazine in the back of my shirt, the book “Glass” under my armpit the  inside of my shirt and “It’s Kind of a Funny Story” hidden inside my mom’s purse. I zipped to my room and unloaded my shirt as my mother snuck in handing me the book. I set the book on my book shelf so they didn’t look new. Eleanor crawled back to my room “Um, Phoen-” “Okay I’ll be there in a minute.” I said. She strode into the bathroom waiting. Aunt Sherry talked to her for about three minutes and until Eleanor ended the conversation.

Yesterday I had a half day at school, getting home at about 12:30 or so. The first thing I do is change from my school uniform. I listen to a song or two on one of my Taking Back Sunday albums and my mom left to go back to work and I took off down the steps. I’m in the nice cold basement opening the office door, I am already at the computer. Checking and replying to emails as usual. I had swiped one of my new books to read (“It’s Kind Of a Funny Story” by Ned Vizzini to exact). I spent two hours on the computer and one whole hour reading. Yes it was delightful until my younger brother and sister barged into the room (which I thought I locked) with toy guns. “GET OUT!!” I screamed impatiently, clenching my jaw. I came upstairs at about three thirty, skipping off to my room to read some more. Paranoid, I kept hearing car doors slam, is it them? Until finally my “babysitter” told me they had arrived. I let out a dramatic sigh. Layla dragged her things back into MY room. “Hello,” said Layla, “Mm, hi.” I grunted. She was talking to me about school as I just nodded then she took a nap. I straightened up my room and left hearing the kids messing with Polly Pocket, our English bulldog mix. She had nipped at Eleanor because Lacey and my brother Hal wouldn’t leave her alone. I’m not quite sure why I was so mad, though smoke was fuming from the head. I wanted to punch something, someone, to scream in their face and throw a fit. Instead I locked myself back in the basement office. I stayed there until it was dinner time, stomping up the stairs to smell a disgusting mess of food which Abby had prepared. Two words. Ugh, spaghetti. I shuffled over to my father asking, “Do I have to eat?” I was expecting a “Yes, you do.” Instead to my surprise he replied, “No, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” An easy battle, eh?

I’ll soon have more stories for you all, just wait *wink*.