Wednesday, August 19, 2009

tributes

so today, on my usual "eavesdropping on mother's phone conversations in case she talks smack about me" missions, I heard my mom talking to a friend of hers who wanted to know about the good violin teachers in town. Of course, my mom recommended my own violin teacher, Davis Law. And usually, when I determine that the conversation is indeed not about me, I tune her out, but this time, I couldn't tear myself away. the almost 7 years I spent under Davis' helping hand all came flooding my memory and I suddenly became extremely nostalgic and just bloody fucking sad.

Davis, I guess, was one of those people in my life who grew on me. We never started off as best friends... I remember the few times I've sat in the car ride back with tears after a disappointing lesson- not even few times, it must have been dozens. But as I grew, he grew with me. By the end of our lessons, we had grown into the best of friends- he knew of all the burdens that even my friends did not know of, he offered the truest, soundest, and wisest of advices, he made me truly laugh, and basically made me believe that I could accomplish what I have now. He is living proof that the best friendships develop over time. And though it took us almost 5 years to get to that point, his presence in more than a third of my life has deeply and thoroughly affected me. He not only made me a better violinist (kind of), but he also made me a better person. I still think back to all the times I would go into his lesson feeling like absolute rubbish all through junior year, but come out feeling refresh and rejuvenated. I remember the time I was extremely wound up because I was caught in a tight situation regarding my mother, and he talked me through the mess, ignored the frustration in the massacre I made of the Mendelssohn because he understood what I was going through. And then he would believe in me when I felt virtually no one did. He didn't judge me, berate me, hate me, or lecture me when I told him about the incident junior year that I don't talk about much because it still kind of kills me a little inside. Sometimes I'd wait on telling my parents any good news so I could tel Davis first. I remember that baffled and slightly disgusted look on his face as I sat before my lesson next to his trash can clipping my nails. And the way our conversations always started: "Did you practice?" "Nope" "Why not?" Or when he'd pick at my inferiority complex to my sister, laugh and joke about it, then remind me of how capable I am. Or the time he slapped a bug on his hand with such force, my mom jumped in her seat. Or his bad ankle and how he went through a month with it propped up on a chair next to him. Or the multitudes of college sweatshirts he wore, the UCDavis one being his favorite. And how he would offer me kimbabs that his wife would pack him every week, proudly stating the ingredients to each kind (those were goddamn delicious too.) Then he'd nudge my elbows when I started bowing incorrectly and that pissed me off so much sometimes, I'd purposely play horrendously. There was that time when I just could not play the E minor scale correctly for my life, so he bet that for ever mistake I made in the next lesson, I owed him a quarter, and if I played it correctly, he would give me a quarter. I played that scale so slowly the next week, and he was so reluctant to give me that 25 cents but he did so in the end, along with a sticker.

So this is a tribute to Davis Law, the one person who may have made one of the biggest impacts on my life- hobbies, tastes, morals, humor, and confidence.

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on another note, I got a new phone. And I am in love with it. Somehow, my blog counterpart seemed to think this new phone was a sign of a completely new Rachel and that is completely untrue. I didn't get a new number so I can break off from my life here, nor did I change my area code as some gesture of finality. In fact, I'm having a slightly difficult time registering this change that is about to come crashing down on me... it's a raging understatement to say I'm a little scared for college and my future. I have never really adapted to change well and I especially have never been good at goodbyes. So with the mentality that the goodbyes I say are actually only just "see you later"s, I suck up that cowardliness get on with... packing... ha, ha.

My procrastination regarding my packing is part laziness and part refusal. Though I have to defend that I am further than most of the people I have been talking to but that I guess is no excuse.

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Before this gets too tedious... let's see, almost half of tfc has gone for college... I wish you guys the best of luck and please party fucking hard.

Peace

by the way. That Green Day concert I've been talking about... oh I haven't blogged about it yet? yeah that's because I plan to post all the amazing photos and videos along with it. Basically, it was the best grad present I could ever ask for.