Music and Memory

Maybe it's just me, but music is a huge part of my life. Music seems to hold all of my memories. I have realized through some recent interactions that music is not a big part of quite of large percentage of the population. So if you're like me then let's not fist bump but totally say we did. 
Now I am not scientist. I don't really care what it says about what kind of brain I have that I link music so close with emotion and memories. The fact is that I do. 
I have come to realize these last few days that if I am to better control my thoughts I must monitor more closely the music that I allow myself to listen to. Why, because if I listen to too much TI I am going to go tint my windows and get black rims on my Camry? No. Well, actually the jury is still out on that one because that now rather old school remix of TOP BACK is just TOO GOOD. But ugg there I go this is exactly what I'm talking about. I would love to say that I wouldn't spend my meager funds on such a trivial thing but I have actually put a substantial amount of thought into how I could make this happen financially, maybe or maybe not just so I could play that song as I cruise around town. 
February marks some kind of 'anniversary' month for me. It is where I marked the start of the toughest year of my life, emotionally. So now, a year later, I am blessed that I can say the hardest year of my life to this point is OVER. yay! For me this means a lot. 
It means that there is an entire year of music that reminds me of said year. Taylor Swift dropped an album, full of passion and heartbreak, and many other fanciful ideas. I love Taylor Swift, and I have never been ashamed of that. She is my spirit animal. Sam Smith, he also dropped an album. Mr. Smith seems to be the king of unrequited love, which is funny because I'm the queen. Or maybe he's the queen and I'm the king? Well, I'll let you decide that one. 
80's hits remind of me of my pops, so I love 80's music. REO, Phil Collins, Earth Wind and Fire, Elton, you name it I got it. PS Dire Straights is my favorite. 
Mama loves her country. She is indeed the most patriotic, English American citizenized lady you will ever meet in your whole life guarenteed. So yes, I like country. Namely 90's country. Ya know, the stuff mama raised me on. Collin Raye, Shania, JMM, Brookes and Dunn, Alan Jackson, Toby Keith. She also loved Celine Dion and Abba. I am the dancing queen. 

OK let's just move on and make this more relatable to my general audience shall we? 
I just think it is fascinating and amazing that memories can be made so vivid through music. I hope I am not the only one out there who experiences this. I'll be listening to my music library or driving in the car and all of a sudden a song comes on and I go back. I can remember EXACTLY where I was, what time of day, who I was or was not with, and how I was feeling. It doesn't matter if I am 10,000 miles or 3,000 miles or 1,  I'm still RIGHT there where I was NO MATTER how long ago it was that the memory was created. 
I mean, for heavens sake I remember dancing the Macarena with the neighbor boy from across the street when I was four. He was handsome. And also I'm pretty sure much older than me, probably not actually in love with me and just humoring the poor neighbor girl with the unusually large head. 
I remember what I said and how I felt at my eighth grade and high school graduations when those respective 'songs' were playing. Ok so maybe I remember the high school one because it was particularly embarrassing. I'm talking like extremely painful completely out of control but we are SO not getting into that in this post.
Whether or not I am quick to skip a track or turn it up depends on who likes or dislikes a song. If a person I do not like loves a song, I am sure to skip it because by golly I don't like that person why on earth would I listen to one of their favorite songs? I acknowledge that I let it have too much control over my music choices. 
Music- it's a powerful thing, and I for one need to be careful about what I allow it to do to my mind. 

Not about love.

Paris. Oui oui oui I was blessed enough to have visited Paris, France. What a fantastic way to wrap up what was literally the worst year of my life. Praise to God that I have slowly been able to begin crawling out the hole of depression I fell into. Paris was amazing (I picked up a serious illness in Paris that I think is now out my system finally, but we're not gonna talk about that today) and I loved to experience that with just my immediate family. I won't go into the details of Paris, for fear of sounding like another spoiled rich white kid (ok maybe I am a bit), but I do want to talk about a realization I had out there.

So here we go. 

Whilst we were in that city, the girls wanted to go shopping. Because, well, Paris...I guess, right? Some of my readers may know that I do not enjoy shopping. I'd much rather sit in a warm coffee shop having a deep conversation with the person sitting across from me. In fact, I'd rather do that then most any thing in life if I'm being completely honest. Needless to say, I tried to stick with the men during these sprees. As one of the shopping runs was coming to a close, my dad makes a comment about how some guy is gonna think he hit the jackpot with me, a girl that would rather NOT shop. 

It all started in junior high. My group of friends seemed to think that an afternoon at the mall was fun. Hmm, ok I thought, this is new, but if this is what girls do, I guess I can go a long with them and have fun. I don't remember too much from my junior high days, just because I have tried too hard to forget it. So let's fast forward to high school....

My best friend in high school LOVED to shop. And she STILL does, bless her heart. I'm convinced she thinks that my particular body type is WASTED on me because I hate to play that fashion game and shopping and dressing up. I remember one time I let it slip that I needed a fancy skirt for interviews coming up and that opened some kind of can of worms. Except these worms were pencil skirts. Really tight and inevitably short pencil skirts. She almost died of happiness as I awkwardly tried the first few on. My confidence slowly grew in the days after she bought me one. The first time I wore that skirt I'm pretty sure I saw some jaws literally drop. Silly boys. Thanks girl. 

Shopping isn't limited to girls, however. I remember one shopping trip I took with my guy friends seemed to last way too long for my liking, even if it was toys-r-us. But I got to wield some foam weapons and beat on them so I guess it might have been worth it. 

I know I'm not the only one of my kind, please let me know if you too are a female non-shopper.  My friends know that I have a time limit to how long I'm going to last before I start acting like a hungry tired  five year old. I'm the girl that sits on the bench outside the dressing rooms with the boyfriends. I hold the purses, or the accessories that need not be brought into the changing room. I am always the designated "boyfriend" in the shopping relationship and I'm ok with that, I have accepted my role and I thrive in it. But I'd like to think there's some one else out there like me.  

But do not think that I do not have my moments. When there is an article of clothing that I need or dare say - DESIRE - I will go shopping.. For example, last weekend. I couldn't take it any longer. I have the shorts, I have the visors, I needed the fanny pack. So I bought three. Yes, I went shopping, of my own will.  I know, try not to yelp. 

The endless aisles and racks of clothes bore me. Trudging around the shops grabbing everything that may look decent on me drains me of all my energy. Watching YOU do the same is just as bad. If I want to be with you, I will go shopping with you, if that is what it takes to be with you. But please, replenish some of that energy by talking with me over a cup of coffee or lunch. Stay up until 1 with me talking about, just....life I guess. I realized the people left in my life are good at that - and for that I am forever grateful. Dearest friends, thank you for loving me and my little quirks. Dearest of friends, I love you.

Happy Valentines Day.