I don’t even really know where to start. During my t e e n a g e years music was everything to me. I spent countless hours and even more money on Rilo, Death Cab, the Format, the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, Tegan and Sara, Bob Dylan, Rogue Wave, and so on. I’d study lyrics && their personal lives all while attending every show possible from LA to San Diego. It mattered to me. Music was a core issue for me. Then I grew up. In some areas it was voluntary and in other areas it wasn’t as gentle – with that I lost my song.
||wow that sounded so dramatic.
But that’s what I felt. ||
Tonight Jeremy had band practice and the kids were melting down early at my parents house so I decided to load them back up in the car after a fairly short visit and just drive. Driving is very calming for me and looking at pretty Christmas lights while I drive is one of my favorite things. It felt like a no brainer. It was going to be magical.
Back to the music. You can’t quiz me on everything Jenny Lewis anymore. I’m far less hip than I once aspired to be but I can still feel. I’m good at feeling. Music can bring and unexplainable feeling that just holds you right in that moment. You know that one?! That first kiss, first love, first heartbreak, that joy or that loss. When songs hit me in one of those spots I get stuck there. I just rest there. Even if it’s bad. I stay. I fixate. I listen on repeat. Tonight The Counting Crows did me in- namely, A Murder of One. This song reminds me of growing up && holds me right where I am. It brings me back to being a kid when I first heard it. It makes me feel little. I like that feeling. It’s making me feel little right now and I’m okay with that. And that’s right where I’m staying, for now.