Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Recital tres and experience drinking in hot tubs


Well it's passed midnight. Slept practically all day today-- which is what normally happens after something big happens and I feel I need to restore my equilibrium; which I'm lucky and thankful that I am able to do so.

I would have liked to of been able to write the past few days but I was busily preparing to go home and for the recital yesterday.

I didn't get any pictures from the actual recital, here's a pic of me and Conner chillin afterward. He knows so many more songs than I do, though he's been playing since we dated about four years ago. 

Spending time with him always makes me feels like my life hasn't changed since I was 16. It's fun to pretend. 

Well the recital was okay, not really the greatest it could have gone for me personally which is why I left during the intermission (which I'm sure I'm going to hear about on Thursday when I try to get my certificate from him). I'll explain why.

I got there about 10 minutes later than I'd anticipated (call time for students was 5:45 and I got there around 6' because I couldn't find my lanyard at home... again) and my Dad pulled in around the same time. He helped me unload some of my gear. I'd brought my VOX so I could potentially avoid the problems I'd had last time where it was too quiet. 

My Dad was hesitant about bringing the amp in, he's like "Run in and talk to your teacher and ask if it's okay if you bring it before I haul this damn thing!" Which to me sounded like a lot of hassle because it would require locating Jake through a maze of hallways in the Mormon church. I'm like "You know what Dad, nevermind, you just take my guitar and I'll take the amp, I don't care!" 

He grabbed the amp and we walked through the parking lot, "Hey I'm following you man." My Dad must have said this three times as we walked through the church. I don't know if he was just stoned or nervous, probably a combination of the two. Having grown up in the Mormon family my Dad gets a little sketched out by the church. We saw my Grandpa Walt lying in a casket there, at this point my Dad was pretty much "estranged" (as my Grandma calls it, though I considered it kicked out) from the rest of the family. Granted this situation had nothing to do with the Mormon church or this recital, but rather a rivalry between my Dad and his brother, so I don't know why I'm talking to you guys about this now... Anyway.

I go to the back and set my stuff down. I don't know any of the other students really and don't make small talk. My mind is entirely focused on how I want the piece to sound. I pick up my guitar and start running through it and my low E sounded a little flat. Instead of just handing it over to Jacob I really should have just tightened the little tuning peg thing. 

Buuut I gave my guitar to Jacob, he unscrewed all the little round nobs at the bottom of my tremelo, and then somehow the entire guitar ended up a step down... I felt like such a  noob trying to desperately get my guitar tuned because I still can't figure out how to change the tuning with that f*^%ing Floyd Rose on there. It's been the lamest thing, I want to get it taken off so I can change the tuning regularly. 

Jake could tell I was panicked, but it's not like this is anything new. Standing over by the door he said to me "Next time I'll have you play an easy chord song so you can play in a group..." I just remember feeling my heart feel like it fell into my stomach, like what are you saying, that I can't handle playing alone? That I'm not as good as your little pride and joy 10 year old Hispanic kid that plays solo? I felt like the biggest loser on the planet. I can't even explain how low I felt just then. I'll never tell him how bad this made me feel because it just inspires me to work harder.

Anyway, so here I am right before I go on and I'm practicing the intro riff over and over... The guitar sounds fine because I had this guy just help me tune it in the other room a couple minutes earlier. I go on stage and plug it in, adjust the amp settings nervously as hell (I did get to use my amp but that can be difficult for me to understand how to get the sound just right too). I strike a chord and this horrible bwaaaahhh sound comes out instead of a E minor. Of course my mind's like What the f*&^ why isn't this tuned... oh God oh God... So I had to get Andy's attention to get Jake, who had to rush up there to fix the tuning. While he did so I was pretty much having an angry panic attack, like "Why is this messed up? This is such bullshit!!

After this happened I felt I didn't have time to test the amp, plugged myself in and played it the best I could. Honestly it sounded like crap to me. People always say "Oh you did good!" and "Oh you rocked!" blah blah blah but in my head it doesn't, it just sounds like muddled crap that sounds half as good as when I'd practiced it at home. 

That's why I have to keep working hard. I need to get good enough that my skill outweighs my panic and frustration with myself and eventually the confidence will follow. I just set my goals high, if I'm going to perform something publicly it should be perfect or as close to perfect as possible and every mistake that I make is like a reminder that I should have practiced harder. That hour spent on facebook is one more hour that could have been spent practicing.

I just want my damn certificate so I can frame it and stick it on my wall. I know at that point I will feel a sense of accomplishment because it is physical proof of a step in the right direction. Right now I just feel mad and disappointed when I recollect the details in my head, which is how I felt the last time I'd performed too. Which is stupid because I shouldn't be mad at myself, it sounded fine. I probably make it sound like I went up there and totally f*cked it up but I guess it's the emotions of how I was feeling when I played it versus what I'd envisioned. 

Next time. 

So lets talk more about Conner's house that's always fun. 

Conner's Mom came in the downstairs around 9 am this morning when I was still completely zonked out on benadryl. She's like totally awake skipping around picking stuff up and was like "You can take a shower upstairs if you want!" I was like "uhhuhhhh...." Ha ha I'm glad his parents like me. 

Conner and I had a blast, definitely an enjoyable time. When I got there he had already drank some and expected I'd be cool with wine but I'm like ehh, no I think I'll pass. Shortly after we got there we drove to the 7-11 and picked up beer. I wanted to buy snacks for myself but he said I should just wait and he'd cook something later. Of course Conner can sometimes be a flake-and-bake so I'm like "Yeah, I'm holding you to that."

He did follow through though! He made bomb beans and rice for us after we'd hung out in the hot tub for an hour and a half or so (stepping out of the hot tub I did feel quite drunk. It's true what they say about drinking in hot tubs, damn!) We watched Futurama, I got to hear him play guitar for the first time in awhile and I thought he sounded great. It was just a really good night. 


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