I can't believe how long it's been since I've done one of these posts. But with exactly one month until my guess/due date, I figured it was time that I shared what's been repeating on my CD player.
We're on the cusp of yet another huge life change. Roy and I were talking the other day, marveling over the fact that we met and moved in together in 2005, got engaged in 2006, got married in 2007, got pregnant in 2008, had our first baby in 2009, got pregnant again in 2010, and will have our second child by the time 2011 rolls in. That's a whole lot of changes in less than six years, but honestly I wouldn't do it any differently.
I am acutely aware of how my life as it is now will never be the same again. We've managed to get into a pretty good groove with two adults and one child, and all of that is about to explode into chaos. I am both excited and terrified, and in many ways I find myself already looking back on this pre-Burt Reynolds time with a strong sense of bittersweet nostalgia, very similarly to the way that I look back on other times in my life. And yet I absolutely can't wait to meet my second son and see who he is and what he's about.
But that's exactly what I'll do. Just wait.
We Used to Wait by Arcade Fire
Lyrics:
I used to write
I used to write letters
I used to sign my name
I used to sleep at night
Before the flashing lights settled deep in my brain
But by the time we met
The times had already changed
So I never wrote a letter
I never took my true heart
I never wrote it down
So when the lights cut out
I was left standing in the wilderness downtown
Now our lives are changing fast
Hope that something pure can last
It seems strange
How we used to wait for letters to arrive
But what's stranger still
Is how something so small can keep you alive
We used to wait
We used to waste hours just walkin around
We used to wait
All those wasted lives in the wilderness downtown
Ooooo we used to wait
Sometimes it never came
Ooooo we used to wait
Sometimes it never came
Ooooo we used to wait
Still moving through the pain
I'm gonna write a letter to my true love
I'm gonna sign my name
Like a patient on a table
I wanna walk again
Gonna move through the pain
Now our lives are changing fast
Hope that something pure can last
Ooooo we used to wait
Sometimes it never came
Ooooo we used to wait
Sometimes it never came
Ooooo we used to wait
Still moving through the pain
We used to wait for it
Now we're screaming
Sing the chorus again
I used to wait for it
Hear my voice screaming
Sing the chorus again
Wait for it
Showing posts with label top tune. Show all posts
Showing posts with label top tune. Show all posts
October 4, 2010
January 22, 2010
Top Tune #10
It's been raining like crazy all week, and naturally I've had to pull out all my rainy day music. Here's one of my all-time favorites, which reminds me so much of my hometown ("the coastal town that they forgot to close down"), my brother (who introduced me to Morrissey's music), and just being really, really young. I've loved this song since I was 14 years old. There are some things you just don't outgrow.
Everyday is Like Sunday by Morrissey
Everyday is Like Sunday by Morrissey
January 6, 2010
Top Tune #9
For the last couple of days, I've been in an awful I-hate-life funk. (But really, I don't want to talk about it.) When I get like this, I turn to my "Saddest Music in the World" playlist. I adore sad music - for all my moods.
So, this song. I fell in love with it in 9th grade. It's on one of my favorite albums. My friend Shevvy and I used to watch the video constantly and drool over Billy Corgan's perfectly crooked teeth. We obsessed for hours over the meaning of this song. I had a Smashing Pumpkins T-shirt that I wore religiously with my green high-top Chuck Taylors and a pair of cut-offs. I wish I still had it, not to mention the shoes.
I found myself really feeling this song today. I needed to hear it. So I turned it on and cranked it and sang along like my life depended on it. And in a way, it did. Because I felt much better afterwards.
Disarm by Smashing Pumpkins
So, this song. I fell in love with it in 9th grade. It's on one of my favorite albums. My friend Shevvy and I used to watch the video constantly and drool over Billy Corgan's perfectly crooked teeth. We obsessed for hours over the meaning of this song. I had a Smashing Pumpkins T-shirt that I wore religiously with my green high-top Chuck Taylors and a pair of cut-offs. I wish I still had it, not to mention the shoes.
I found myself really feeling this song today. I needed to hear it. So I turned it on and cranked it and sang along like my life depended on it. And in a way, it did. Because I felt much better afterwards.
Disarm by Smashing Pumpkins
December 4, 2009
Top Tune #8
This Top Tune is brought to you by our dark bedroom.
I heard this song for the first time not even a year ago. I hadn't even heard of Andrew Bird before hearing it. I quickly fell in love with this song, listening to it over and over. I had the habit of listening to it on repeat while sitting in bed in the dark. I was in my third trimester of pregnancy then, and it was pretty common for me to just crawl in bed after coming home from work.
This song is so sad that I can barely stand it, but I truly think that melancholy songs are some of the best out there. It's also a cover of the original by the Handsome Family, but Andrew Bird's version blows the original out of the water, in my opinion.
And just in case you're interested, the song is about the tallest man in recorded history.
The Giant of Illinois by Andrew Bird
(And you can download it here. For free. That's where I got it from.
You can also download more Andrew Bird tunes here free of charge. You're welcome.)
Lyrics:
The giant of Illinois
died from a blister on his toe
after walking all day through the first winter snow
throwing bits of stale bread
to the last speckled doves
he never even felt his shoes filled with blood
delirious with pain, his bedroom walls began to glow
and he felt himself soaring up through falling snow
and the sky was a woman's arms
a boy with a club foot
had sat next to him in school
once upon a summer's day
they went wandering through the woods
they spotted a sleeping swan
on the banks of a muddy stream
and they stormed it with rocks
till it collapsed in the reeds
they lay out on the grass
full of chocolate and lemonade
but underneath it all the giant was afraid
the sky was a woman's arms
I heard this song for the first time not even a year ago. I hadn't even heard of Andrew Bird before hearing it. I quickly fell in love with this song, listening to it over and over. I had the habit of listening to it on repeat while sitting in bed in the dark. I was in my third trimester of pregnancy then, and it was pretty common for me to just crawl in bed after coming home from work.
This song is so sad that I can barely stand it, but I truly think that melancholy songs are some of the best out there. It's also a cover of the original by the Handsome Family, but Andrew Bird's version blows the original out of the water, in my opinion.
And just in case you're interested, the song is about the tallest man in recorded history.
The Giant of Illinois by Andrew Bird
(And you can download it here. For free. That's where I got it from.
You can also download more Andrew Bird tunes here free of charge. You're welcome.)
Lyrics:
The giant of Illinois
died from a blister on his toe
after walking all day through the first winter snow
throwing bits of stale bread
to the last speckled doves
he never even felt his shoes filled with blood
delirious with pain, his bedroom walls began to glow
and he felt himself soaring up through falling snow
and the sky was a woman's arms
a boy with a club foot
had sat next to him in school
once upon a summer's day
they went wandering through the woods
they spotted a sleeping swan
on the banks of a muddy stream
and they stormed it with rocks
till it collapsed in the reeds
they lay out on the grass
full of chocolate and lemonade
but underneath it all the giant was afraid
the sky was a woman's arms
November 24, 2009
Top Tune #7
I haven't written one of these posts in a long while. I typically wait until I hear a song that jumps out at me and really gets my old brain churning. (Plus, Amber made a suggestion that reminded me of this. Thanks, Amber!) This particular Top Tune is brought to you by life and death, love and loss. I don't think I could ever really put into words what it means to me.
But I will try. So here's the short version.
When Roy and I first started dating, one of the things we did a lot of was watch TV on DVD. One of the shows we watched from beginning to end together was Six Feet Under. It's a heavy show, but it quickly proved itself one of my absolute favorites. For one, it's dark and sad, but I love dark and sad. Two, it's so incredibly funny, and I dig that, too. Three, the show offers some of the best acting and writing I've ever seen. And lastly, and most importantly, the show unapologetically explores what it means to be alive and what it means to face death. I love the gritty reality contained in each episode.
I remember when Roy and I were watching the finale for season three, and I was just bawling my head off, and I remember wondering if Roy was going to think I was a crazy freak for crying so much. (We were still in that stage of our relationship, you see.) But you know, instead of acting like any other guy and being all awkward or telling me how overly emotional I am, Roy just held me while I sobbed over these fictional characters. I think he understood that the show had become more than just entertainment to me, that it had crossed over into something that had deeply affected me, and that I could see myself in so many of the characters. It felt like the whole damn show had been written about me. Roy, in his unassuming way, has always understood me. He was happy to hold my hand as I stared at this family and saw my own within it. (The main character Nate even was afflicted with the same type of brain tumor as my dad!)
That was in 2005, and recently, sometime around the time Jewelyn died, I started rewatching the entire series again. This time around, I laughed more and cried less. But there were tears, let me assure you. Because how can you not cry when you are, once again, confronted head on with a family that so painfully resembles your own, with characters who so wonderfully speak all the words you can't say?
The song that ended the series was the song that became ours, and we danced to it at our wedding for our first dance. The song is inexplicably tied up with my memories of the beginnings of my relationship with Roy, our wedding, my family, my ever-complicated feelings about my parents, my own wishes for Charlie, my fears of death, and finally, my fears of life.
The only thing I can make of it all is that if you can find someone who does what this song says, you are one lucky person. And I have. And so I am.
Breathe Me by Sia
(Not sure what's up with all the Britney footage, but the song is right and I couldn't embed the original "Breathe Me" video. Click here to see the real video.)
Lyrics:
Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
I hurt myself again today
And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame
Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me
Ouch
I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe
Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me
But I will try. So here's the short version.
When Roy and I first started dating, one of the things we did a lot of was watch TV on DVD. One of the shows we watched from beginning to end together was Six Feet Under. It's a heavy show, but it quickly proved itself one of my absolute favorites. For one, it's dark and sad, but I love dark and sad. Two, it's so incredibly funny, and I dig that, too. Three, the show offers some of the best acting and writing I've ever seen. And lastly, and most importantly, the show unapologetically explores what it means to be alive and what it means to face death. I love the gritty reality contained in each episode.
I remember when Roy and I were watching the finale for season three, and I was just bawling my head off, and I remember wondering if Roy was going to think I was a crazy freak for crying so much. (We were still in that stage of our relationship, you see.) But you know, instead of acting like any other guy and being all awkward or telling me how overly emotional I am, Roy just held me while I sobbed over these fictional characters. I think he understood that the show had become more than just entertainment to me, that it had crossed over into something that had deeply affected me, and that I could see myself in so many of the characters. It felt like the whole damn show had been written about me. Roy, in his unassuming way, has always understood me. He was happy to hold my hand as I stared at this family and saw my own within it. (The main character Nate even was afflicted with the same type of brain tumor as my dad!)
That was in 2005, and recently, sometime around the time Jewelyn died, I started rewatching the entire series again. This time around, I laughed more and cried less. But there were tears, let me assure you. Because how can you not cry when you are, once again, confronted head on with a family that so painfully resembles your own, with characters who so wonderfully speak all the words you can't say?
The song that ended the series was the song that became ours, and we danced to it at our wedding for our first dance. The song is inexplicably tied up with my memories of the beginnings of my relationship with Roy, our wedding, my family, my ever-complicated feelings about my parents, my own wishes for Charlie, my fears of death, and finally, my fears of life.
The only thing I can make of it all is that if you can find someone who does what this song says, you are one lucky person. And I have. And so I am.
Breathe Me by Sia
(Not sure what's up with all the Britney footage, but the song is right and I couldn't embed the original "Breathe Me" video. Click here to see the real video.)
Lyrics:
Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
I hurt myself again today
And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame
Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me
Ouch
I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe
Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me
August 28, 2009
Top Tune #6
This Top Tune is brought to you by an incredible amount of emotional stuff.
Back in December, I downloaded this album, thanks to Kari's recommendation. In mid-January, I started using music to try to feel Charlie's movement for the first time. To my delight, when I played "Flume" for Charlie, he kicked! It first happened in the dentist's office and then he did it again later that night at home.
I sent out a text message to all of my people letting them know that I was finally feeling movement. I was so excited!
There was absolutely no way that I could have known that the very same night, maybe even right around the time I sent out my happy text message, my very good friend and her husband went to the ER because they could not find their baby's heartbeat on the doppler. Her pregnancy had not been an easy one for several reasons. But she was now in the second trimester, the "safe" point. They were just beginning to relax and look to the future with hope when they got the news that the baby had died.
She was due exactly one month after me. I had just been at her stage of pregnancy. I could not imagine losing the baby at that point.
I'd been having hopeful visions that their baby was a boy, too, and that he and Charlie would grow up together as best friends. And then those visions were lost.
It wasn't my baby that died, but I was devastated.
I spent the next couple of weeks in complete disbelief and shock. I was so shocked by the loss of my friend's baby that I could not cry. Then I accidentally ran over a cat one night. And finally, the floodgates opened.
I came home every night after work and cried. One night Roy and I sat on the couch together as I wept, and I expressed my frustration at not being able to shake my sadness. He said, "We have a full-blown tragedy on our hands. It's okay to be sad."
In early February, my friend and her husband checked into the hospital to deliver her baby. She had waited as long as she could to miscarry on her own. Since it wasn't happening, labor was induced and after several hours, the baby was delivered.
It was a boy.
And while I was at the hospital while it all was happening, I didn't get to see him. But being there offered me closure. I got to see my friend and her husband coping with their loss, and I think that's what I needed. I had no idea what things were like for them in the immediate days and weeks following the death of the baby, and not knowing was making it that much tougher for me to do my own coping and healing. When I saw how brave and accepting they were, I was able to be brave and accepting, too.
When we left the hospital late that night, I walked out of there and knew that I would never be able to see the world in the same way. This is a world that is sometimes cruel and unforgiving. It's a world that takes babies from their parents. I don't understand, and never will, why some babies die and some live. It's just not fair.
I still think of this baby often, probably every day. I thought about him a lot when Charlie was born and again on his due date, June 29. I think about him every time Charlie reaches a new stage in his development. It's always the same thought: "He should be here, too." It's just not right that he isn't.
In the last several weeks, several people (who have no idea that I even exist) have suffered heart-wrenching losses. They have experienced pain that I never want to feel, and they've had to say goodbyes that I can't even imagine saying. If you have a minute, please go here and here to offer your support and condolences. And while you're at it, go here, too. And hug your loved ones tight and tell them you love them.
That's what I do. And then I listen to this song, which reminds me so much of the wonder of feeling Charlie move for the first time - and the sadness for my friends' lost little one, the boy Charlie never got to play with, the boy the world never got the pleasure of meeting.
Flume by Bon Iver
Lyrics:
I am my mother's only one
It's enough
I wear my garment so it shows
Now you know
Only love is all maroon
Gluey feathers on a flume
Sky is womb and she's the moon
I am my mother on the wall, with us all
I move in water, shore to shore;
Nothing's more
Only love is all maroon
Lapping lakes like leary loons
Leaving rope burns --
Reddish ruse
Only love is all maroon
Gluey feathers on a flume
Sky is womb and she's the moon
Back in December, I downloaded this album, thanks to Kari's recommendation. In mid-January, I started using music to try to feel Charlie's movement for the first time. To my delight, when I played "Flume" for Charlie, he kicked! It first happened in the dentist's office and then he did it again later that night at home.
I sent out a text message to all of my people letting them know that I was finally feeling movement. I was so excited!
There was absolutely no way that I could have known that the very same night, maybe even right around the time I sent out my happy text message, my very good friend and her husband went to the ER because they could not find their baby's heartbeat on the doppler. Her pregnancy had not been an easy one for several reasons. But she was now in the second trimester, the "safe" point. They were just beginning to relax and look to the future with hope when they got the news that the baby had died.
She was due exactly one month after me. I had just been at her stage of pregnancy. I could not imagine losing the baby at that point.
I'd been having hopeful visions that their baby was a boy, too, and that he and Charlie would grow up together as best friends. And then those visions were lost.
It wasn't my baby that died, but I was devastated.
I spent the next couple of weeks in complete disbelief and shock. I was so shocked by the loss of my friend's baby that I could not cry. Then I accidentally ran over a cat one night. And finally, the floodgates opened.
I came home every night after work and cried. One night Roy and I sat on the couch together as I wept, and I expressed my frustration at not being able to shake my sadness. He said, "We have a full-blown tragedy on our hands. It's okay to be sad."
In early February, my friend and her husband checked into the hospital to deliver her baby. She had waited as long as she could to miscarry on her own. Since it wasn't happening, labor was induced and after several hours, the baby was delivered.
It was a boy.
And while I was at the hospital while it all was happening, I didn't get to see him. But being there offered me closure. I got to see my friend and her husband coping with their loss, and I think that's what I needed. I had no idea what things were like for them in the immediate days and weeks following the death of the baby, and not knowing was making it that much tougher for me to do my own coping and healing. When I saw how brave and accepting they were, I was able to be brave and accepting, too.
When we left the hospital late that night, I walked out of there and knew that I would never be able to see the world in the same way. This is a world that is sometimes cruel and unforgiving. It's a world that takes babies from their parents. I don't understand, and never will, why some babies die and some live. It's just not fair.
I still think of this baby often, probably every day. I thought about him a lot when Charlie was born and again on his due date, June 29. I think about him every time Charlie reaches a new stage in his development. It's always the same thought: "He should be here, too." It's just not right that he isn't.
In the last several weeks, several people (who have no idea that I even exist) have suffered heart-wrenching losses. They have experienced pain that I never want to feel, and they've had to say goodbyes that I can't even imagine saying. If you have a minute, please go here and here to offer your support and condolences. And while you're at it, go here, too. And hug your loved ones tight and tell them you love them.
That's what I do. And then I listen to this song, which reminds me so much of the wonder of feeling Charlie move for the first time - and the sadness for my friends' lost little one, the boy Charlie never got to play with, the boy the world never got the pleasure of meeting.
Flume by Bon Iver
Lyrics:
I am my mother's only one
It's enough
I wear my garment so it shows
Now you know
Only love is all maroon
Gluey feathers on a flume
Sky is womb and she's the moon
I am my mother on the wall, with us all
I move in water, shore to shore;
Nothing's more
Only love is all maroon
Lapping lakes like leary loons
Leaving rope burns --
Reddish ruse
Only love is all maroon
Gluey feathers on a flume
Sky is womb and she's the moon
August 19, 2009
Top Tune #5
This Top Tune is brought to you by my junior year in high school when I rode a school bus home from a school-related event and we played this song on repeat on a boombox someone brought along. I fell in love with this song then and it remains one of my absolute favorites.
One by U2
(The album version is my favorite favorite favorite version of this song. The above video doesn't really do this song justice, in my opinion.)
One by U2
(The album version is my favorite favorite favorite version of this song. The above video doesn't really do this song justice, in my opinion.)
August 5, 2009
Top Tune #4
This Top Tune is brought to you by an old friend of mine named Joey.
Joey and I met in sixth grade. He was BFFs with my very first boyfriend. (I know, WTF was I thinking, being interested in boys when I was 11?!) Back then Joey was the typical annoying adolescent boy, but he actually had a sweet side, too. I remember how he wrote me a letter of apology when he and my then-boyfriend did something that really hurt my feelings, which, I might add, is much more than the boyfriend did.
The boyfriend and I ended up staying together for about three years. (Our relationship mostly consisted of talking on the phone, not actually going out in public together.) I don't need to tell you that the boyfriend was the worst kind of asshole, and Joey was often a witness to the way he treated me. He did his best to make things okay for me while still maintaining his friendship with the boyfriend.
After the boyfriend and I split up, Joey and I dated briefly. We were freshmen in high school. It didn't last long, but we kept our friendship going. Later that year, Joey got into a very serious car accident with some of his friends. He was thrown quite far from the vehicle he was in, and he suffered from brain trauma as a result. It was very scary, and as I recall, this accident made my mom start smoking again after having kicked the nicotine habit for about five years or so.
Joey became pretty erratic after that. He would pop in and out of my life as the years went by. He'd never had a good home life, and it seemed like something was always going wrong with him. We'd talk regularly for awhile and then things would die out - until the next time he called me, usually drunk.
I was about 21 when I finally told Joey to stop calling me. I was tired of the drunk phone calls in the middle of the night and hearing the same stories over and over. I was tired of that being his definition of friendship. I felt then that our friendship was a toxic one - the irony is that I was involved with much more toxic people than Joey during that time in my life. He was just lonely, but I just wanted to break away from anyone and everyone who actually needed me. I didn't have it in me to be needed.
I hadn't thought of Joey in years, and then this song came up on my iPod last week. It's always reminded me of him, and the lyrics are even more applicable now. I wonder where he is now. Whatever he's doing, I hope he's happy and that he's finally escaped the darkness.
Joey by Concrete Blonde
(This video is a little weird. The song starts over partway into it, but it's all good after that.)
Joey and I met in sixth grade. He was BFFs with my very first boyfriend. (I know, WTF was I thinking, being interested in boys when I was 11?!) Back then Joey was the typical annoying adolescent boy, but he actually had a sweet side, too. I remember how he wrote me a letter of apology when he and my then-boyfriend did something that really hurt my feelings, which, I might add, is much more than the boyfriend did.
The boyfriend and I ended up staying together for about three years. (Our relationship mostly consisted of talking on the phone, not actually going out in public together.) I don't need to tell you that the boyfriend was the worst kind of asshole, and Joey was often a witness to the way he treated me. He did his best to make things okay for me while still maintaining his friendship with the boyfriend.
After the boyfriend and I split up, Joey and I dated briefly. We were freshmen in high school. It didn't last long, but we kept our friendship going. Later that year, Joey got into a very serious car accident with some of his friends. He was thrown quite far from the vehicle he was in, and he suffered from brain trauma as a result. It was very scary, and as I recall, this accident made my mom start smoking again after having kicked the nicotine habit for about five years or so.
Joey became pretty erratic after that. He would pop in and out of my life as the years went by. He'd never had a good home life, and it seemed like something was always going wrong with him. We'd talk regularly for awhile and then things would die out - until the next time he called me, usually drunk.
I was about 21 when I finally told Joey to stop calling me. I was tired of the drunk phone calls in the middle of the night and hearing the same stories over and over. I was tired of that being his definition of friendship. I felt then that our friendship was a toxic one - the irony is that I was involved with much more toxic people than Joey during that time in my life. He was just lonely, but I just wanted to break away from anyone and everyone who actually needed me. I didn't have it in me to be needed.
I hadn't thought of Joey in years, and then this song came up on my iPod last week. It's always reminded me of him, and the lyrics are even more applicable now. I wonder where he is now. Whatever he's doing, I hope he's happy and that he's finally escaped the darkness.
Joey by Concrete Blonde
(This video is a little weird. The song starts over partway into it, but it's all good after that.)
July 29, 2009
Top Tune #3
This Top Tune is brought to you by the summer of 1992, when I was an awkward and skinny 13-year-old. That was the summer I had my first real kiss with a guy I'd prefer to forget. Fortunately for all, some good things did come out of the summer of 1992, particularly this song:
November Rain by Guns 'n' Roses
Still rockin' after all these years.
November Rain by Guns 'n' Roses
Still rockin' after all these years.
July 24, 2009
Top Tune #2
Funky Goes to Hollywood (totally rad mashup) by DJ Earworm
Last year I got linked to this, thanks to blurbomat, and got to download it for free. It quickly made its way to the Top 25 Most Played playlist on my iPod, and if you give it a listen, you'll see why.
July 22, 2009
Top Tune #1
Since I have no original ideas of my own, I've decided to do this. (Click on the link, and stay awhile. It's a really cool place.)
For those of you who are too lazy to click on the link, I've decided to post/link to my favorite songs here on my blog (one at a time, and in no particular order). Whenever I feel like it. Until I run out of favorite songs. Because I love music and how it can tell a story about a person.
So, here's the first one.
Pachelbel's Canon in D by Slovak Chamber Orchestra
So boring, right? WRONG! I walked down the aisle to this song (this very version, actually - and I still maintain it's the best version ever) when I got married. (I'm still kind of surprised that I picked something so traditional.) This song is heavy on my mind tonight because we put Charlie in his swing and one of the music options was "Canon in D."
It felt very much like things had come full circle even though we are living in a more linear fashion. (I have no idea how else to word that sentence, which makes me feel pretty stupid right now. Would you like a side of lamesauce with that? And really, did I just say "lamesauce"? Fuck my life.)
And speaking of my wedding, I finally edited some photos from our anniversary last week. So maybe there's an anniversary post in me yet...
For those of you who are too lazy to click on the link, I've decided to post/link to my favorite songs here on my blog (one at a time, and in no particular order). Whenever I feel like it. Until I run out of favorite songs. Because I love music and how it can tell a story about a person.
So, here's the first one.
Pachelbel's Canon in D by Slovak Chamber Orchestra
So boring, right? WRONG! I walked down the aisle to this song (this very version, actually - and I still maintain it's the best version ever) when I got married. (I'm still kind of surprised that I picked something so traditional.) This song is heavy on my mind tonight because we put Charlie in his swing and one of the music options was "Canon in D."
It felt very much like things had come full circle even though we are living in a more linear fashion. (I have no idea how else to word that sentence, which makes me feel pretty stupid right now. Would you like a side of lamesauce with that? And really, did I just say "lamesauce"? Fuck my life.)
And speaking of my wedding, I finally edited some photos from our anniversary last week. So maybe there's an anniversary post in me yet...
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