So I just had to write a memoir for English class and I decided to write about Sara Bareilles. Here it is! I hope you enjoy! And sorry about the length!! 

Click. It was done. I had entered the contest almost 25 times, and now all I could do was wait. I was dying to meet Sara Bareilles, my idol. I thought about the last time I had seen her in concert at the PC Richard Son and Theater in NYC. She was onstage and in between songs she read my poster aloud to the entire audience, “Sara, you’re queen of everything and I want to be just like you when I grow up. Aww, how old are you?” The giants in front of me moved out of the way so I could see Sara clearly.

            “16,” I replied with a shaky voice. 

            “OK, I thought you were going to say like 32,” she said in a high-pitched voice. “I’m not that old, I promise! Um, that’s awesome. Are you a musician? What do you play?” she asked me.

            “Violin, guitar, and piano,” I replied.

            “You kick my ass, violin, guitar, and piano! Well, I want to be just like you when I grow down then, when I come back again, in my next life, I want to be like you. Ok, besties? Call me!”

            What had just happened? My idol, Sara Bareilles, had just had a 30 second conversation with me and told me that she wanted to be my best friend. I started to sob out of pure happiness. The concert was great, and after it was over I waited in the freezing cold for almost an hour for her to come out of the stage door. I wanted to meet Sara in person, once and for all. But it became really late, especially for a school night, and my parents were not going to stay any longer. I guess my plans to meet Sara would have to wait a little bit longer.

            And that brings me back today. I just had entered a contest to meet Sara in person. I wouldn’t have to wait after her concert; it was a meet and greet performance in a cute tavern. Only problem was that it was 3 and a half hours away in Rhode Island, and my mom had already told me I couldn’t enter the contest. But I just couldn’t resist. I needed to meet Sara face to face once and for all.

            About a week later on Friday, my cell phone rang. Of course, my ringtone was “Uncharted” by Sara Bareilles. It was a 401 number… weird. Where was that again?

            “Hello?” I answered.

            “Hi, this is Melanie from Lite Rock 105. Is this Rebecca?

            “Yes it is,” I said, wondering what this was about. Then I realized, Lite Rock 105 was the radio station that was sponsoring the meet and greet with Sara. I held my breath.

            “I’m just calling to tell you that you won a pair of tickets to meet Sara tomorrow. Sorry for the late notice.” I had been waiting for this call all week! They were supposed to have called me midway through the week if I had won! I had just assumed that I didn’t win.

            “Wait, are you kidding me? It’s April Fool’s Day! Is this a joke?” I questioned.

            “Nope. It’s real. Is your mom home right now? Since you’re under 18, I need to speak with her.” Uh oh, I had not seen this coming at all. What was I going to do?

            “Mom, can you come here? The radio station just called and told me I won tickets to see Sara tomorrow!” I handed her the phone with a huge smile on my face. She closed the door on me. Uh oh, this was not looking good at all. I tried to listen to her through the crack, but I couldn’t hear much.

            “I need to talk to your Dad about this,” she said as she came out of my room. If the answer is yes, just know that you have to pay for everything, gas, food, all the expenses. I am not made of money. And call your grandmother. See if she is going to even be home tomorrow. If she’s around, we can stay with her overnight. I am not driving to and from Rhode Island in one day.”

            “Okay, will do.” I knew Nana would never say no. She lived 20 minutes from the tavern, and there was no way she was going to say no to her first grandchild.

            Sure enough, she said yes, and Mom did too, as long as I paid for everything. Saturday morning, we got up at the crack of dawn to leave for a 12:00 meet and greet. It was going to be a long ride, but of course filled with Sara Bareilles music to make the time pass by. We arrived at the Iron Works Tavern SO early, almost an hour before hand. And it was frigid for April; we had to wait in the car until they opened up the restaurant. I felt like time was moving at the speed of a turtle. I couldn’t wait any longer!!

            Before I knew it, I was sitting in the tavern, drink in hand (Okay, it was only water) 10 feet away from the makeshift stage waiting for Sara to come out. I was the ONLY person wearing a Sara Bareilles tee shirt. I even had worn my pink and black checkered trilby hat and crown ring; Sara wore them all the time. I felt a little out of place being the only hardcore fan, and the only kid. Oh well. I started to feel nauseous with excitement. I decided to run to the bathroom before Sara came out. Just as I was sitting down on the toilet, I heard my mom come in and say, “Sara is coming out! Hurry up!” The bathroom would have to wait.

            I rushed back to my seat. Within a couple of minutes, Sara came out with her band mates Josh and Javier. She was wearing jeans, a tee shirt, and an unbuttoned red plaid shirt. And no makeup. She was so down to earth; she dressed like she was one of us. She sat down at her piano and opened her mouth like she was going to sing but instead said, “Hey! Where are the people from New Jersey?”

            My mouth dropped open; I was flabbergasted. I quickly said, “Right here!” with a smile.

            “I can’t believe you came this far to see me. I feel honored. Thanks so much for coming.” Oh my goodness. Sara hadn’t even sang one word yet; she had to thank me first for coming. Oh my gosh; this was surreal.

            She played three of her songs for us: her hit Love Song, Uncharted, and Gonna Get Over You. Of course, I knew every word. I was singing at the top of my lungs.

            “I am going to answer some of the questions you submitted online now. Where’s Rebecca?” I waved at her with my mouth wide open. I had totally forgotten that I had submitted a question --- well more like 25 questions with all of my entries. Which one was she going to answer? 

            “You wanted to know if I’d like to have my songs on Glee?” she asked. “I would love to! I met the cast of Glee at the White House last year for the Easter Egg Hunt, and they were all so lovely. I don’t watch the show religiously, but I would be honored to have one of my songs featured. They haven’t called me yet, but here’s to hoping they do!”

            She continued to answer fan’s questions for a few minutes, and then played us one more song, a sultry version of Single Ladies by Beyonce. It was gorgeous. I was in heaven.

            Within a minute or two of her finishing, the radio DJ’s started to organize the fans into a line to meet Sara. I needed more than a minute to collect myself, to take in what had just happened, and to decide what exactly I was going to say to Sara. I had practiced it exactly, but now I couldn’t remember anything. I was just too star-struck.

            “Thanks again so much for coming all this way to see me; it means a lot to me.” Sara said when I went up to her.

            “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” I said. Here was my chance. I had to ask her. “By any chance do you remember me from the PC Richard and Son Theater? I was the girl with the poster, and you told me you wanted to be just like me when you grew down.”

            “Oh my gosh, I totally remember you! That was such a great night! Did you get a haircut?” she asked.

            “I don’t think so, haha maybe it’s my hat.” I responded laughing.

            “Thanks again,” Sara started to say.

            “Wait, could you sign my songwriter’s journal?” I asked her. I had brought the songwriting journal I had ordered off of her website. It was filled with my most private thoughts and feelings.

            “Of course!” she said. She signed it “Rebecca ♥ you!! Sara Bareilles.” And then my mom took a picture of us. That is basically my permanent Facebook profile picture now. I walked out of the tavern in awe of what just had happened. There was so much more I wanted to say to Sara, tell her about how she helped me through all the rough times I had gone through, tell her how she inspired me to write music, learn the piano, and the guitar, tell her that she was my role model, tell her I had searched the internet for hours to find a crown ring just like hers. But the moment was over. All I had was the memories of what had just occurred. And my signed journal and picture.

“Wait mom, they never raffled the tickets away to tonight’s show. Should we go back in?” I asked. Earlier that morning, my mom and I had put raffle tickets in a jar for a pair of tickets to see Sara’s show later that night. It was a full concert… opening act, full band, encore, everything.

            “Oh yeah, I forgot. Let’s go back in!” she said.

            “Did you raffle the tickets off for the show yet?” I politely asked the DJ.

            “Give me a second. I don’t think so.” I looked around; there weren’t many people left in the tavern. How come they had waited so late?

            “We actually have two extra pairs of tickets for tonight’s show, so you can just have them. Most people who came were already going to tonight’s show since they live around here.”

            “Are you kidding me?” I asked. I started crying, full on crying. You could even call it a sob. I was crying like I just found out my dog had died, but that was not the case. I was just so happy I was going to see Sara in a real concert too! I left fairly quickly, not wanting to make a scene in the tavern.

            A few hours later, my mom and I were waiting outside Lupo’s in Providence.

“You know Becca, I think I know why you got these tickets,” My mom said to me.

            “Why?” I questioned with a puzzled look.

            “Well, when I was on the phone with the lady from the radio station last night, I told her we were coming to see Sara all the way from New Jersey. She apologized for the late notice with the tickets, and I said something like ‘Yeah, it’s a really far drive. I wish there was something else you could do for us for coming so far.’ And she was like, ‘We have a pair of tickets we are raffling off for Lupo’s. Maybe I will see if I can get my hands on another pair.’ I bet that’s what happened!” my mom said.

            “Maybe,” I said, “but I doubt it.

            But I was definitely wrong. Towards the end of the concert, after Sara sang “Bottle It Up,” I held up my poser, the same poster from January that said “Sara, you are queen of everything, and I want to be just like you when I grow up.” Since I was standing in the third row, she could see it, and started to read it out loud. When she realized what it said, she stopped reading and said, “I know girl; I got your back.” What was going on? What did she mean, she had my back? Oh my gosh; Mom was right. That lady at the radio station must have told Sara that we were coming all the way from New Jersey! That was why she greeted everyone at the concert with “Where are the people from New Jersey?” And then she must have pulled some strings to get me the tickets! I was astounded; I couldn’t believe how much trouble Sara went to for a fan.

            What I realized that day is that beneath all the cursing and joking around, Sara is a great person. She really cares about all her fans, and just wants to make them happy. If I ever ended up being anything like Sara when I grew up, I would be blessed. She truly is a wonderful human being.