I'd have a child. There. I said it.
Most women, when they think about their future, usually have a long term plan. It usually involves, at the very least, a career of some kind, a place of their own to live in, friends, and eventually, co-habitation with a significant other, maybe leading to marriage and eventually, if you like them enough, kids. These last two things I pretty much planned on never happening to me.
Dating never happened much for me in high school or college. Most people who knew me I think got pretty used to me being perpetually single. This was not a bad thing necessarily. I did a lot of things, I had a lot of fun. But, was I lonely when I looked at my attached friends and knew I was going home to an empty bed? You bet I was. Sometimes, I felt like the loneliest person around. For goodness sakes, I was 26 years old and a virgin, so how attractive could I really be to the opposite sex? After a long time, I did my best to not worry about it, because what was the point? If I was meant to walk through this life alone, that was what I was meant to do.
I became further convinced of this, when I found out I had Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS. Along with giving me the WORST menstrual cycles of my life, and potentially leading to other problems such as diabetes and high blood pressure, I was also told it would be next to impossible for me to conceive and carry a child. I hid my emotions at the time, because I was in college, but I was devastated. I would never have a child. Never be able to experience pregnancy. It is, in my opinion the most heartbreaking news a woman can receive in her life, especially, if eventually, even for a moment, she contemplated having kids.
So, I moved forward. What any normal person does their best to achieve when they are dealt that kind of news. I focused on finishing school, finding a career and trying to improve my financial situation, so I could eventually move out of my parents house and live on my own. You know, attempt to be a grown up. It wasn't easy. I wasn't making much money in my choice of career, even though I experienced some of the most amazing moments of my life at my job. Without making a lot of money, I had a lot of trouble moving out on my own and worked towards finding a second part-time job to help with the lack of money. I still had fun though. I went out with friends, I traveled some, I had experiences and adventures. I was happy, or as happy as I could imagine myself being.
Then, enter Ray. (i.e. the boy) Some people claim things happen for a reason. The other half of the world claims it's bahooey. I think things happen for a reason. Had I moved out of my parents house, would Ray and I have ever met? Or re-met, considering we went to the same elementary school, rode the same bus and the same middle school too. I don't know. It really doesn't do any good to play that game. But, we met or re-met. And, we started talking. I wasn't sure how I felt. I liked him, but getting my hopes up was normally reserved for things like Buy One, Get One Free Cupcake days, not for things like love. I had became very insistent that I was going to be alone, for well, ever. Ray changed that for me. I know its bad to an extent, but he helped me to believe that I was beautiful, worth going after, and lovable. He was, and still is, my comfort, my calm when chaos is reigning supreme. I can go to him, and talk to him, or sometimes not even talk, just sit and just be with him and things will be better or will get better eventually. That was the deciding factor, the final push I needed to know that in spite of my own emotional misgivings, that I would find happiness with this person.
Don't get me wrong. Nothing is perfect, not even a relationship. Its good, its great even, its fun and exciting. Heartbreaking and unforgiving. You get in fights, say things you don't mean, sometime say things you do mean. You learn to live with a persons' good and bad parts. You know, all that crap. You go through the ups and downs, you have debates about changing things and improving your lives together. You find yourself making decisions together. You get happy when you feel things coming together.
And, then, you are thrown a loop, you'd never in a million years expect. Even weirder, when you make the discovery at your local Target bathroom, while your friend's two year old tries to peek under the door to find out what you are up to. A baby. Of course, I automatically think this is a joke, maybe a false positive (very rarely do those exist by the way). Instead, its a baby. Growing inside me. A person that Ray and I created together. I wouldn't have believed it, if I hadn't had it confirmed via ultrasound. I was still on birth control. (Because, obviously, YOU NEVER KNOW.) Again, things happening for a reason? I mean, a million in one shot almost. Yet, there I was, pregnant! HOLY CRAP!!
Pregnancy was really crazy. Overwhelming and stressful at some points. Hormonally deranged, terrifying, back and forth on what you want to do, how you handle things, how you REALLY feel about it. If your honest, you're excited, scared, shocked...there aren't enough words to describe the emotions. How could I not be overwhelmed? Then, the problems start. Gestational Diabetes, easy to manage once you know what you are doing. Then, concerns over his growth rate, which was smaller than expected. That made me cry. My little boy, smaller than what he should be. How could it be? I was trying to be so careful. I was trying so hard. How could this happen? Was he going to survive all this? Delivery, life outside the womb all together? Only one way to find out...
He was supposed to be arriving last Tuesday. He decided to start heading out last Sunday, and arrived last Monday, a week before his due date. 6 pounds, 11 oz. 20 inches long. A head full of hair just like me. He's little, so little, but he's strong. One hell of a temper. My little Elijah. Eli for short. Ray, me and Eli. A little group of 3. Ray loves him so much, he so proud to be a dad. I can't believe I'm a mom, especially to this little tiny bundle. I never thought I would have him, and I wasn't sure he was going to survive. But, he's here. And, I don't know how I've lived without him.
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Thursday, July 10, 2008
The Long Haul...
Gag me with a spoon if you want, but like I recently mentioned, me and the boy have hit 6 months. This is a big deal for me personally, but not for the reason you'd probably think. I'm pretty sure this is the longest relationship I've had up to this point, so at least at this particular moment, I am officially capable of staying in and maintaining a decent relationship for an extended period time, which after the last few years, I wasn't sure if I could actually pull off. For me and the boy, one, we didn't even realize it until two days after we made it "official" and when we did, it was more or less "Hey, we've been together 6 months ::pause:: Neat, want to watch a movie?" I mean its cool, but when we get to year, then we'll throw confetti at each other and do something ridiculous like go see a ridiculous movie or feed each other chocolate covered strawberries...actually, scratch that, if that happens, I'm going to need someone to haul me off to the looney bin for an extended stay. I'll feed myself chocolate strawberries, thanks anyways.
The point of this rather silly and drawn out story though, is that we've been together for 6 months and again me and a friend got into a discussion recently about...forever. F-O-R-E-V-E-R, forever. The long haul. Are we, as average, everyday human beings really meant to be together forever? We came to the initial conclusion that this might not be the case. Maybe we are supposed to have more than one person in our life, the idea that there's not just one person out there, because really, when we thought about it, that was a pretty scary thought, because what if you don't find that one person?
But, then we started thinking about couples who we knew who had done forever. Actually, i started that, because (1) I'm the eternal optimist and (2) for every one person who says you can't do it, I can always think of one couple who managed to beat the odds and stick it out for the long haul and be happy about it, my aunt and uncle who were together for 52 years. They went through the good, the bad and the ugly together. Dealing with the death of her parents and the repercussions that had on their life (they were taking care of kids before they had their own), financial troubles, losing two children in childbirth, raising 5 kids of their own, the death of his mother, buying a home and staying there for 40 years, going on their own adventures across the country, spending time with their nieces, nephews and grand kids and great grand kids, my aunt's life changing crippling knee injury and subsequent knee surgery, the celebration of their 50th wedding anniversary and then the subsequent decline in health of my uncle from asbestosis and his eventual death almost two years later. They went through a ton together. Some of those things would've caused one of the two partner's to walk away if it was any other combination of people, but they stuck it out together. And, I can honestly say that I have never met two people who were happy to be with each other. I mean, my uncle drove my aunt totally nuts sometimes, especially with his 5000 projects that he worked on around the house that never got totally finished and his inability to allow anyone to help in the kitchen during Christmas. And, my aunt drove my uncle nuts with her need to invite 7000 people over to the house during Christmas, her need to vacuum every single day, and the fact that they had managed to house birds, dogs, and several children and grandchildren over again. My aunt is a softy for anything with big eyes and a sad face. But, they loved each other, no matter what, and you could see that constantly.
My biggest memory from my Uncle's funeral was when I walked up to his casket and talked to my aunt for a few minutes, who was standing over him and just had her hand resting over his. She looked at me and told me that she just didn't know what she would do without him anymore. She was surrounded by so many people, her family, her friends and the community they lived in, but she had never felt so alone in her life. He had been the one true constant in her life for over 52 years, and all she could think about was how much she missed him, and how much she wished that he would get up out of that casket, so that he could help guide her through how she was going to handle all of this. I think that's when I realized how scary that feeling must be, to be on your own after the one person you've spent 50 years making decisions with is not there to help you. It would scare the crap out of me. At the same time though, that's exactly what I want.
Its such a nice idea, the idea that you can find someone who you can tolerate for longer than 15 minutes, who you can share everything with and still find more to share with them. You help each other get through the good and the bad, and you really are in it for the long haul, no matter what. I've met plenty of people that for them, when the going gets tough, they get the hell out. Its understandable, especially if you have the ability to walk away, to go ahead and walk away. Plus, you've got to know your tolerance level, what you can deal with and what you can't deal with. I also think it depends upon what kind of relationship you have with the person you're with. Sometimes, no matter how good or bad a situation is, you realize you can't be with them, and maybe its just the realization that you aren't supposed to be with this particular person, so I guess you keep going and hope that the right person is out there. I just know its a really nice idea. And maybe its my watching of silly chick flicks, but geez, I hope its true. I mean if its not I suppose I'll live, but, for once, just once, I'd like to believe that its possible that two people can love each other forever. And, not kill each other in the process anyways.
The point of this rather silly and drawn out story though, is that we've been together for 6 months and again me and a friend got into a discussion recently about...forever. F-O-R-E-V-E-R, forever. The long haul. Are we, as average, everyday human beings really meant to be together forever? We came to the initial conclusion that this might not be the case. Maybe we are supposed to have more than one person in our life, the idea that there's not just one person out there, because really, when we thought about it, that was a pretty scary thought, because what if you don't find that one person?
But, then we started thinking about couples who we knew who had done forever. Actually, i started that, because (1) I'm the eternal optimist and (2) for every one person who says you can't do it, I can always think of one couple who managed to beat the odds and stick it out for the long haul and be happy about it, my aunt and uncle who were together for 52 years. They went through the good, the bad and the ugly together. Dealing with the death of her parents and the repercussions that had on their life (they were taking care of kids before they had their own), financial troubles, losing two children in childbirth, raising 5 kids of their own, the death of his mother, buying a home and staying there for 40 years, going on their own adventures across the country, spending time with their nieces, nephews and grand kids and great grand kids, my aunt's life changing crippling knee injury and subsequent knee surgery, the celebration of their 50th wedding anniversary and then the subsequent decline in health of my uncle from asbestosis and his eventual death almost two years later. They went through a ton together. Some of those things would've caused one of the two partner's to walk away if it was any other combination of people, but they stuck it out together. And, I can honestly say that I have never met two people who were happy to be with each other. I mean, my uncle drove my aunt totally nuts sometimes, especially with his 5000 projects that he worked on around the house that never got totally finished and his inability to allow anyone to help in the kitchen during Christmas. And, my aunt drove my uncle nuts with her need to invite 7000 people over to the house during Christmas, her need to vacuum every single day, and the fact that they had managed to house birds, dogs, and several children and grandchildren over again. My aunt is a softy for anything with big eyes and a sad face. But, they loved each other, no matter what, and you could see that constantly.
My biggest memory from my Uncle's funeral was when I walked up to his casket and talked to my aunt for a few minutes, who was standing over him and just had her hand resting over his. She looked at me and told me that she just didn't know what she would do without him anymore. She was surrounded by so many people, her family, her friends and the community they lived in, but she had never felt so alone in her life. He had been the one true constant in her life for over 52 years, and all she could think about was how much she missed him, and how much she wished that he would get up out of that casket, so that he could help guide her through how she was going to handle all of this. I think that's when I realized how scary that feeling must be, to be on your own after the one person you've spent 50 years making decisions with is not there to help you. It would scare the crap out of me. At the same time though, that's exactly what I want.
Its such a nice idea, the idea that you can find someone who you can tolerate for longer than 15 minutes, who you can share everything with and still find more to share with them. You help each other get through the good and the bad, and you really are in it for the long haul, no matter what. I've met plenty of people that for them, when the going gets tough, they get the hell out. Its understandable, especially if you have the ability to walk away, to go ahead and walk away. Plus, you've got to know your tolerance level, what you can deal with and what you can't deal with. I also think it depends upon what kind of relationship you have with the person you're with. Sometimes, no matter how good or bad a situation is, you realize you can't be with them, and maybe its just the realization that you aren't supposed to be with this particular person, so I guess you keep going and hope that the right person is out there. I just know its a really nice idea. And maybe its my watching of silly chick flicks, but geez, I hope its true. I mean if its not I suppose I'll live, but, for once, just once, I'd like to believe that its possible that two people can love each other forever. And, not kill each other in the process anyways.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
You are who or what you love, not what you eat.
Well, unless one of your what's includes food...then I suppose you could be what you eat in that regard. Maybe.
Anyways, I dunno, I've been thinking again. I probably shouldn't be allowed to think so often, it leads to bad things sometimes. Like the Great Boston Adventure '04...by the time that day was done, I ended up laughing hysterically to the point where I could not stop for 45 minutes. 45 minutes of laughter people...that's almost insanity right there. If I hadn't loved it so much.
I love to laugh. Ask any of my friends. I laugh at just about everything. If it could be found even remotely funny, I will probably laugh at it. I will probably laugh at you at some point, not to be mean, but because I found something funny. I mean, c'mon, I laugh at myself all the time, which gives me the total right to laugh at you when you trip, fall and not so gracefully slide across a floor or something.
I adore John Cusack. I think he is quite possibly my favorite actor in the whole entire wide world. He makes me laugh, I can relate to his movies, I love the fact that he is sarcastically funny in his movies and that he has the dry way of delivering lines which just makes it that much funnier. And he's so damn cute. I mean he's old, but he's cute. I could go on. But I won't.
Again, I love music. All kinds of music. Play it for me, if I haven't heard it, i'll give it a shot. If I have, I will be more than happy to listen again and again and again. Yeah, music = true love.
I love Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Like, I have a serious problem when it comes to them. I mean, you could probably convince me to sell my car to you for a penny and a pack of Peanut Butter Cups. Well, probably not, but I would take it into serious consideration. Reese's Cups make my day. In the best way possible. Have a bad day, have a peanut butter cup, you'll be happier, swear!
I'm a total girl when it comes to this, but I love romantic comedies...in the worst way. Love Actually, Bridget Jones' Diary, When Harry Met Sally, The Princess Bride, oh I could go on. I mean when I was single and had the rare weekend to myself, I had no issue curling up with one of those movies, some peanut butter cups and my stuffed Snoopy and being content to watch them. Laugh, cry, and maybe, just maybe, secretly wish that something like that could happen to me. The truth is that I'm a romantic at heart. I really do believe in honest to god true love. Ugh, even I want to throw up a little, but its true. I'm way too optimistic to not think otherwise.
I love my friends. Adore them really. These are the people who have been there for me through thick and thin. The bad times and good. And vice versa. I am that girl who will go running to a friend with a bag of peanut butter cups, a good movie and a box of tissues going "Ok, what are we doing people?" when I find out someone is in trouble or sad or whatever. My friends are a big part of my life.
I love my family, as nuts as they drive me. And they drive me pretty bananas somedays. But, for all of that, I still love them. I love that we are able to talk to each other about stuff and that we can argue and get our things out, and then get over it and just be together. I love that they support me no matter what and that I can make decisions for myself, even if they want to fight me on it. I love that my little brother is a smarty pants, even if he is a pain.
I love the Peanuts characters. Specifically Snoopy. Snoopy is the best dog ever. If I could've owned a real Snoopy, I would've. But really I'll settle for any kind of dog. I don't care. I just want a puppy to love. :)
And...::drum roll::...I love a boy. Who saw that one coming? Not me. I feel like I've gotten hit by semi about 14 or 15,000 times. But I do. I don't know how or when it happened. It just did. And It makes ya feel different. Because most of those other things I've had for a really long time. Most, if not all of my life, or a good part of my life at least. But, there's always been things missing. Or something missing. And this, this thing with him, its so different from everything else I've ever experienced. Its real, its not something I have to question, or wonder about, or debate or analyze. I know he feels the same exact way. I don't have to worry about turning my head just so or batting my eyes in a certain way, or if I do this or that he'll notice me. Its so nice. And, that is just wonderful.
I don't really know why I wrote this, except maybe I'm just in that kind of mood today. The feeling loved kind of mood. :) Maybe this will help spread a little bit of love into your world today. Maybe the Beatles are right and "All You Need is Love".
Anyways, I dunno, I've been thinking again. I probably shouldn't be allowed to think so often, it leads to bad things sometimes. Like the Great Boston Adventure '04...by the time that day was done, I ended up laughing hysterically to the point where I could not stop for 45 minutes. 45 minutes of laughter people...that's almost insanity right there. If I hadn't loved it so much.
I love to laugh. Ask any of my friends. I laugh at just about everything. If it could be found even remotely funny, I will probably laugh at it. I will probably laugh at you at some point, not to be mean, but because I found something funny. I mean, c'mon, I laugh at myself all the time, which gives me the total right to laugh at you when you trip, fall and not so gracefully slide across a floor or something.
I adore John Cusack. I think he is quite possibly my favorite actor in the whole entire wide world. He makes me laugh, I can relate to his movies, I love the fact that he is sarcastically funny in his movies and that he has the dry way of delivering lines which just makes it that much funnier. And he's so damn cute. I mean he's old, but he's cute. I could go on. But I won't.
Again, I love music. All kinds of music. Play it for me, if I haven't heard it, i'll give it a shot. If I have, I will be more than happy to listen again and again and again. Yeah, music = true love.
I love Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Like, I have a serious problem when it comes to them. I mean, you could probably convince me to sell my car to you for a penny and a pack of Peanut Butter Cups. Well, probably not, but I would take it into serious consideration. Reese's Cups make my day. In the best way possible. Have a bad day, have a peanut butter cup, you'll be happier, swear!
I'm a total girl when it comes to this, but I love romantic comedies...in the worst way. Love Actually, Bridget Jones' Diary, When Harry Met Sally, The Princess Bride, oh I could go on. I mean when I was single and had the rare weekend to myself, I had no issue curling up with one of those movies, some peanut butter cups and my stuffed Snoopy and being content to watch them. Laugh, cry, and maybe, just maybe, secretly wish that something like that could happen to me. The truth is that I'm a romantic at heart. I really do believe in honest to god true love. Ugh, even I want to throw up a little, but its true. I'm way too optimistic to not think otherwise.
I love my friends. Adore them really. These are the people who have been there for me through thick and thin. The bad times and good. And vice versa. I am that girl who will go running to a friend with a bag of peanut butter cups, a good movie and a box of tissues going "Ok, what are we doing people?" when I find out someone is in trouble or sad or whatever. My friends are a big part of my life.
I love my family, as nuts as they drive me. And they drive me pretty bananas somedays. But, for all of that, I still love them. I love that we are able to talk to each other about stuff and that we can argue and get our things out, and then get over it and just be together. I love that they support me no matter what and that I can make decisions for myself, even if they want to fight me on it. I love that my little brother is a smarty pants, even if he is a pain.
I love the Peanuts characters. Specifically Snoopy. Snoopy is the best dog ever. If I could've owned a real Snoopy, I would've. But really I'll settle for any kind of dog. I don't care. I just want a puppy to love. :)
And...::drum roll::...I love a boy. Who saw that one coming? Not me. I feel like I've gotten hit by semi about 14 or 15,000 times. But I do. I don't know how or when it happened. It just did. And It makes ya feel different. Because most of those other things I've had for a really long time. Most, if not all of my life, or a good part of my life at least. But, there's always been things missing. Or something missing. And this, this thing with him, its so different from everything else I've ever experienced. Its real, its not something I have to question, or wonder about, or debate or analyze. I know he feels the same exact way. I don't have to worry about turning my head just so or batting my eyes in a certain way, or if I do this or that he'll notice me. Its so nice. And, that is just wonderful.
I don't really know why I wrote this, except maybe I'm just in that kind of mood today. The feeling loved kind of mood. :) Maybe this will help spread a little bit of love into your world today. Maybe the Beatles are right and "All You Need is Love".
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Music = The Love of My Life
I'm really not joking. It really is. I mean, I'm not saying there's not a person who I may or may not be realizing is inching towards that title too. Which is a rarity for me. Its taken me quite a while, but for the first time in my life I've found someone who makes me feel close to the way music makes me feel. We'll have to see as time goes on, but I take this as progress. Maybe even a sign that I'm growing up. Maybe.
But music, ah music. You really are the love of my life. The one thing that I have truly come to depend upon in good and bad times. No matter what, there is a moment, a lyric, a sound, something that helps to define the place I'm at in my life and to help put things into perspective for me. Its not a personal thing or a statement that people can't do that for me. But music is that force for me.
For as long as I can remember music has always been a major part of my life in one form or another. I grew up during the birth and rise of MTV. I was the 3 year old sitting there tapping my feet along to Michael Jackson's Billie Jean (My foot starts involuntarily tapping EVERY TIME I hear that bass line) and my own little scandalous moment of imitating Madonna's dance from her "Like a Virgin" video (My mom proceeded to turn the channel every time the video came on, I apparently had the moves down a little too well for her to handle).
I loved all music as a kid and ate up every single sound I could get my little hands on. My parents, being the age difference (20 years) and the background differences (Dad = White (Irish decent), Mom = Hispanic (Colombian)), had very different tastes. When my dad would drive me to school, we listened to oldies (like 50s doo wop and 60s) and country. Secret: I still love Reba McIntire to this day...I know, I know, its country, but I do. Johnny Cash is a freaking Icon, have you heard his music? Hank Williams...I could go on. Anyways, my mom would pick me up in the afternoon and I got my radio flipping habits from her. She never stayed on one channel. She listened to current pop, rock, then flip it to Led Zeppelin and The Beatles or R&B or Top Forty. I'd sit there just bopping away, learning lyrics and that was my kind of day. It was the days when I stole my mom's old small stereo that had a cassette player, record player and radio on it, and hooked it up in my room so I could play my Rainbow Brite Record (Yes, I had a Rainbow Brite Record) for 15 hours straight and listen to....wait for it...New Kids on the Block. You got the right stuff....baaaaaaaaaby...(Don't judge me, it was 1988, we are all allowed to make mistakes at the age of 6.) OH, and stealing my mom's Billy Joel tapes and Fleetwood Mac records...and Stevie Wonder too. I have problems.
Music has always helped me get through the good. I mean that's easy enough, you find an upbeat song, dance around your room or wherever and you just let loose. Its the tough times...the tough moments where nothing seems to make you feel better, jokes don't work, sometimes even hugs aren't enough. At least they aren't for me. Its when I put on my iPod or start looking through my CDs, just trying to find that one song, that one lyric that I need to hear to remind me that things are going to be ok, you know, when I've tried to remind myself that 1000 times, and I just can't seem to get it through my head. It was my knee jerk reaction in 7th grade when my dad lost his job, I just ran to my room, shut the door and jacked up Matchbox Twenty's Yourself or Someone Like You and just collapsed on the floor staring at the ceiling. It amazingly enough was Fleetwood Mac's Rumours that I turned to when my dad had a heart attack my junior year of HS. I know, but Rumours is an amazing record. I HIGHLY recommend listening to it. And I don't always listen to an album because I'm looking for those lyrics. Sometimes, I put the music on and I just get involved in the melodies and the sounds and whatever else makes up the music and it takes my mind off of whatever troubles I have. It gives me time to re-group, so that I can think and figure out how I want to deal with something. Other times I hit just the right song that brings out the right emotions in me, whether its joy or sadness and its therapeutic and I get everything out of my system and I'm ok. I feel better and I can deal.
Music is just this entity. I don't even think I can put it into words. Its just something I truly understand on all levels. Its the one thing I can talk about for hours on end, read about for days, experience for a lifetime and still want to know more! Truthfully, its probably an obsession, but its a better obsession than cocaine, so i'm gonna go with music.
This is why I couldn't answer the question of my favorite music. Music is such an experience for me that trying to narrow it down to my favorite albums or bands or whatever could very well take me forever. And I could be listing for forever. Like that whole question "What's your number 1 top desert island album?"...I can't answer that question. I've tried to narrow it. No success as of yet. Once I come up with the answer, I'll let you know.
But music, ah music. You really are the love of my life. The one thing that I have truly come to depend upon in good and bad times. No matter what, there is a moment, a lyric, a sound, something that helps to define the place I'm at in my life and to help put things into perspective for me. Its not a personal thing or a statement that people can't do that for me. But music is that force for me.
For as long as I can remember music has always been a major part of my life in one form or another. I grew up during the birth and rise of MTV. I was the 3 year old sitting there tapping my feet along to Michael Jackson's Billie Jean (My foot starts involuntarily tapping EVERY TIME I hear that bass line) and my own little scandalous moment of imitating Madonna's dance from her "Like a Virgin" video (My mom proceeded to turn the channel every time the video came on, I apparently had the moves down a little too well for her to handle).
I loved all music as a kid and ate up every single sound I could get my little hands on. My parents, being the age difference (20 years) and the background differences (Dad = White (Irish decent), Mom = Hispanic (Colombian)), had very different tastes. When my dad would drive me to school, we listened to oldies (like 50s doo wop and 60s) and country. Secret: I still love Reba McIntire to this day...I know, I know, its country, but I do. Johnny Cash is a freaking Icon, have you heard his music? Hank Williams...I could go on. Anyways, my mom would pick me up in the afternoon and I got my radio flipping habits from her. She never stayed on one channel. She listened to current pop, rock, then flip it to Led Zeppelin and The Beatles or R&B or Top Forty. I'd sit there just bopping away, learning lyrics and that was my kind of day. It was the days when I stole my mom's old small stereo that had a cassette player, record player and radio on it, and hooked it up in my room so I could play my Rainbow Brite Record (Yes, I had a Rainbow Brite Record) for 15 hours straight and listen to....wait for it...New Kids on the Block. You got the right stuff....baaaaaaaaaby...(Don't judge me, it was 1988, we are all allowed to make mistakes at the age of 6.) OH, and stealing my mom's Billy Joel tapes and Fleetwood Mac records...and Stevie Wonder too. I have problems.
Music has always helped me get through the good. I mean that's easy enough, you find an upbeat song, dance around your room or wherever and you just let loose. Its the tough times...the tough moments where nothing seems to make you feel better, jokes don't work, sometimes even hugs aren't enough. At least they aren't for me. Its when I put on my iPod or start looking through my CDs, just trying to find that one song, that one lyric that I need to hear to remind me that things are going to be ok, you know, when I've tried to remind myself that 1000 times, and I just can't seem to get it through my head. It was my knee jerk reaction in 7th grade when my dad lost his job, I just ran to my room, shut the door and jacked up Matchbox Twenty's Yourself or Someone Like You and just collapsed on the floor staring at the ceiling. It amazingly enough was Fleetwood Mac's Rumours that I turned to when my dad had a heart attack my junior year of HS. I know, but Rumours is an amazing record. I HIGHLY recommend listening to it. And I don't always listen to an album because I'm looking for those lyrics. Sometimes, I put the music on and I just get involved in the melodies and the sounds and whatever else makes up the music and it takes my mind off of whatever troubles I have. It gives me time to re-group, so that I can think and figure out how I want to deal with something. Other times I hit just the right song that brings out the right emotions in me, whether its joy or sadness and its therapeutic and I get everything out of my system and I'm ok. I feel better and I can deal.
Music is just this entity. I don't even think I can put it into words. Its just something I truly understand on all levels. Its the one thing I can talk about for hours on end, read about for days, experience for a lifetime and still want to know more! Truthfully, its probably an obsession, but its a better obsession than cocaine, so i'm gonna go with music.
This is why I couldn't answer the question of my favorite music. Music is such an experience for me that trying to narrow it down to my favorite albums or bands or whatever could very well take me forever. And I could be listing for forever. Like that whole question "What's your number 1 top desert island album?"...I can't answer that question. I've tried to narrow it. No success as of yet. Once I come up with the answer, I'll let you know.
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