Art of Breaking (Michael Clifford)

and so it begins

After a day to settle in, (and start decorating my room) it was already almost time for me to go into work with my mom.

I was super nervous, but super excited too. This is the first step to everything I already knew I wanted to do.

Even though I knew that my mother would predominantly be working with pop artists, which are not usually my preferred style of music, I wasn't too worried. Pop isn't my favorite music, and I hardly ever listen to the radio (no I'm not a hipster who can't handle anything "mainstream," I'm just not usually in the car enough to frequently listen to the radio) but I try to have an appreciation for all music no matter the "genre."

*Cue mental rant*

Honestly the whole genre thing bugs me sometimes. I feel like people take them too seriously. Just because an artist has broken into the music scene under a certain genre does not mean that they are banned from playing music from any others.

Musicians are people too. No on likes doing the same thing forever, but so many people seem to get offended almost if their favorite artist does something that isn't "pop" or "rock" or whatever.

A lot of people seem overly attached to their preferred genre as well. As if just because you listen to alternative music or punk rock or whatever, like I do, you couldn't possibly like rap or bubble gum pop. Ok, bubble gum pop might be stretching it a little bit, but seriously, every "genre" has it's awesome songs and artists, you might just have to take the time to look for them a bit.

And all the sub-genres make things more difficult not easier. Do you know how hard it is to explain what exactly post-hardcore rock sounds like? 

It prevents so many people from experimenting with music, it actually makes me sort of sad.

Annnnywayyy, what was I saying?

Oh, right. I listen to a LOT of music. As long as there are some interesting or unique elements and fairly good lyrics (I say fairly good because some of my favorite music is A Fever You Can't Sweat Out era Panic! At The Disco and all forms of Fall Out Boy and honestly I'm not even really sure what is going on in half of those songs.) I don't really care where or who it came from. 

So long story short, I'm still excited for this internship, no matter the style, because I like pretty much everything.

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I was getting ready to go with my mom when my lovely brother (note the sarcasm) decided to remind me that since we ended up flying over here last minute (well it was last minute for me, Mom and Dom knew for weeks before we actually ended up moving) I would be missing the All Time Low concert that was going on in L.A. today. 

It was their last one before flying cross-country to a few east coast venues (including Baltimore of course) before they started their world tour.

I had had tickets, and in the hustle and bustle of moving all the way around the world, I had completely forgotten that it was coming up.

Dom, however, just had to remind me that I would be missing one of my favorite bands because of this stupid move.

It had been a good run, while it lasted. Almost two whole days. I was actually sort of enjoying the move. I had adjusted to the time zone and weather fairly quickly and everything was okay. My room was in preparation for decoration and I was excited for my new internship.

Now I'm back to being royally pissed off about leaving my whole life, and that is not something I want to be when I am walking into what may very well lead to my whole future career.